Always yours
Scott Fitz—
TO: Harold Ober
Received January 23, 1925
ALS, 2 pp. Lilly Library
Dear Ober:
(After all these years I agree with you that it is high time to drop honorifics) 1st Thanks very much for the money, which eats well into the second story. I’m sure that the third story (“Not in The Guide Book”) will sell much easier than the other two. The Adjuster may seem too gloomy. However, time will tell.
I am starting a fourth story (really a sixth, for one I tore up and Love in the Night I rewrote completely, as you see. I’m a little disappointed about the novel but I suppose it did seem raw to Wheeler. He immediately wrote me the inevitable letter asking for a story.
If the novel is a big success I’m hoping my price will go up to $2000 regular. It’s a neat sum and while I don’t feel my stuff is worth anything like that its as good as a lot that gets much more.
I feel very old this winter. I’m twenty eight. I was twenty-two when I came to New York and found that you’d sold Head and Shoulders to the Post. I’d like to get a thrill like that again but I suppose its only once in a lifetime.
You’ve been awfully kind about this money. I don’t know what I could have done without it. I’ve owed Scribner the advance on this novel for almost two years. Did Warner Bros, ever render a definate account on the B. + D. movie?
I hate Italy and the Italiens so violently that I can’t bring myself to write about them for the Post.—unless they’d like an article called “Pope Siphilis the Sixth and his Morons” or something like that. But we’re resolutely trying to econemize, so we wouldn’t move back to France till March even if we could afford it.
Scott Fitz.
TO: Maxwell Perkins
TLS, 3 pp—with holograph postscript
Princeton University
Hotel des Princes
Rome, Italy
January 24.-1925
(But address the American Express
Co. because its damn cold here
and we may leave any day.
Dear Max:
This is a most important letter so I’m having it typed. Guard it as your life.
1) Under a separate cover I’m sending the first part of the proof. While I agreed with the general suggestions in your first letters I differ with you in others. I want Myrtle Wilson’s breast ripped off—its exactly the thing, I think, and I don’t want to chop up the good scenes by too much tinkering. When Wolfshiem says “sid” for “said”, it’s deliberate. “Orgastic” is the adjective from “orgasm” and it expresses exactly the intended ecstasy. It’s not a bit dirty. I’m much more worried about the disappearance of Tom and Myrtle on galley 9—I think it’s all right but I’m not sure. If it isn’t please wire and I’ll send correction.
2) Now about the page proof—under certain conditions never mind sending them (unless, of course, there’s loads of time, which I suppose there isn’t. I’m keen for late March or early April publication)
The conditions are two.
a) That someone reads it very carefully twice to see that every one of my inserts are put in correctly. There are so many of them that I’m in terror of a mistake.
b) That no changes whatsoever are made in it except in the case of a misprint so glaring as to be certain, and that only by you.
If there’s some time left but not enough for the double mail send them to me and I’ll simply wire O.K. which will save two weeks. However don’t postpone for that. In any case send me the page proof as usual just to see.
3) Now, many thanks for the deposit. Two days after wiring you I had a cable from Reynolds that he’d sold two stories of mine for a total of $3,750. but before that I was in debt to him and after turning down the ten thousand dollars from College Humor1 I was afraid to borrow more from him until he’d made a sale. I won’t ask for any more from you until the book has earned it. My guess is that it will sell about 80,000 copies but I may be wrong. Please thank Mr. Charles Scribner for me. I bet he thinks he’s caught another John Fox2 now for sure. Thank God for John Fox. It would have been awful to have had no predecessor.
4) This is very important. Be sure not to give away any of my plot in the blurb. Don’t give away that Gatsby dies or is a parvenu or crook or anything. It’s a part of the suspense of the book that all these things are in doubt until the end. You’ll watch this won’t you? And remember about having no quotations from critics on the jacket—not even about my other books!
5) This is just a list of small things.
a) What’s Ring’s title for his spring book?
b) Did O’Brien star my story Absolution or any of my others on his trash-album?
c) I wish your bookkeeping department would send me an account on Feb. 1st. Not that it gives me pleasure to see how much in debt I am but that I like to keep a yearly record of the sales of all my books.
Do answer every question and keep this letter until the proof comes. Let me know how you like the changes. I miss seeing you, Max, more than I can say.
As ever,
Scott
P.S. I’m returning the proof of the title page ect. It’s O.K. but my heart tells me I should have named it Trimalchio. However against all the advice I suppose it would have been stupid and stubborn of me. Trimalchio in West Egg was only a compromise. Gatsby is too much like Babbit and The Great Gatsby is weak because there’s no emphasis even ironically on his greatness or lack of it. However let it pass.
TO: Maxwell Perkins
ALS, 1 p. Princeton University
c. February 18, 1925
Dear Max:
After six weeks of uninterrupted work the proof is finished and the last of it goes to you this afternoon. On the whole its been very successful labor
(1.) I’ve brought Gatsby to life
(2.) I’ve accounted for his money
(3.) I’ve fixed up the two weak chapers (VI and VII)
(4.) I’ve improved his first party
(5.) I’ve broken up his long narrative in Chap. VIII
This morning I wired you to hold up the galley of Chap 40. The correction—and God! its important because in my other revision I made Gatsby look too mean—is enclosed herewith. Also some corrections for the page proof.
We’re moving to Capri. We hate Rome, I’m behind financially and have to write three short stories. Then I try another play, and by June, I hope, begin my new novel.
Had long interesting letters from Ring and John Bishop. Do tell me if all corrections have been recieved. I’m worried
Scott
I hope you’re setting publication date at first possible moment.
TO: Harold Ober
March 1925
ALS, 1 p. Lilly Library
Hotel Tiberio, Capri
Dear Ober:
We’ve had a hell of a time here. My wifes been sick in bed three weeks + there isn’t a typist nearer than Naples—the farmer who did this kept it for 10 days at the other end of the Island. I have another ready too if he ever brings it back.
Good stories write themselves—bad ones have to be written so this took up about three weeks. And look at it. I’d rather not offer it to the Post because everybody sees the Post but I know its saleable and I need the money. I leave it to you.
The Red Book story will be along shortly. For God’s sake don’t give them this. Thank you for the deposits. I don’t know whats the matter with me. I can’t seem to keep out of debt. Whenever I get ahead things like this sickness happen. Such is life. However two other stories will follow this thick and fast
As Ever
F Scott Fitzgerald
TO: Maxwell Perkins
c. March 12, 1925
ALS, 2 pp. Princeton University
Hotel Tiberio, Capri
Dear Max:
Thanks many times for your nice letter. You answered all questions (except about the account) I wired you on a chance about the title—I wanted to change back to Gold-hatt
ed Gatsby but I don’t suppose it would matter. That’s the one flaw in the book—I feel Trimalchio might have been best after all.
Don’t forget to send Ring’s book. Hemmingway could be reached, I’m sure, through the Transatlantic review. I’m going to look him up when we get to Paris. I think its amusing about Sherman and Mencken1—however Sherman’s such a louse that it doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t have shaken Mencken’s hand during the war—he’s only been bullied into servility and all the Tribune appointments in the world wouldn’t make him more than 10th rate. Poor Sherwood Anderson. What a mess his life is—almost like Driesers. Are you going to do “Le Bal de Compte Orgel”—I think you’re losing a big opportunity if you dont. The success of The Little French Girl2 is a pointer of taste—and this is really French, and sensational and meritorious besides.
I hope you’re sending page proofs to that French woman who wants to translate Gatsby! I’m sending in two other envelopes.
(1.) Cards to go in books to go to critics
(2) " " " " " " " " friends
Also, I’m enclosing herewith a note I wish you’d send down to the retail dept.
They won’t forget to send copies to all the liberal papers—Freeman, Liberator, Transatlantic, Dial ect?
Can’t you send me
a jacket now?
Scott
While, on the contrary these 16 are all personal. Like wise I wish they’d tear off the adress and send each message in a book charged to my account.
For myself in Europe 6 books will be enough—one post haste and five at liesure.
Fitzg.
TO: John Peale Bishop
Late March 1925
ALS, 3 pp. Princeton University
I am quite drunk
I am told that this is Capri, though
as I remember Capri was quieter.
Dear John:
As the literary wits might say, your letter recieved and contents quoted. Let us have more of the same—I think it showed a great deal of power and the last scene—the dinner at the young Bishops—was handled with admirable restraint. I am glad that at last Americans are producing letters of their own. The climax was wonderful and the exquisite irony of the “sincerely yours” has only been equealed in the work of those two masters Flaubert and Ferber.
Norman Douglas is not here now and anyway I have piles.
I will now have two copies of Wescotts “Apple”1 as in despair I ordered one—a regular orchard. I shall give one to Brooks, here whom I like. Do you know Brooks? He’s just a fellow here. . .
Excuse the delay. I have just been working on the envelope. . .
That was a caller. His name was Musselini, I think, and he says he is in politics here. And besides I have lost my pen so I will have to continue in pencil. . . It turned up—I was writing with it all the time and hadn’t noticed. That is because I am full of my new work, a historical play based on the life of Woodrow Wilson
Act I. At Princeton
Woodrow seen teaching philosophy. Enter Pyne. Quarrel scene—Wilson refuses to recognize clubs. Enter woman with Bastard from Trenton. Pyne reenters with glee club and trustees. Noise outside “We have won—Princeton 12 - Layfayette 3.” Cheers. Football team enter and group around Wilson. Old Nassau. Curtain
Act II. Gubernatorial Mansion at Patterson
Wilson seen signing papers. Tasker Bliss and Marc Connelly come in with proposition to let bosses get controll. “I have important papers to sign—and none of them legalize corruption.” Triangle Club begins to sing out side window. Enter woman with Bastard from Trenton. President continues to sign papers. Enter Mrs. Gait, John Grier Hibben, Al Jolsen and Grantland Rice. Song “The call to Larger Duty.” Tableau. Coughdrop.
Act III. (optional)
The Battle front 1918.
Act IV
The peace congress. Clemenceau, Wilson and Jolsen at table. The Bastard from Trenton now grown up but still a baby, in the uniform of the Prussian Guard is mewling and pewking in Wilson’s lap. Orlando is fucking Mrs. Gait in a corner. The junior prom committee comes in through the skylight. Clemenceau: “We want the Sarre.” Wilson: “No, sarre, I wont hear of it.” Laughter Orlando grunts at a passing orgasm. Enter Marylyn Miller, Gilbert Seldes and Irish Meusel. Tasker Bliss falls into the cuspidor. . .
Oh Christ! I’m sobering up! Write me the opinion you may be pleased to form of my chef d’oevre + others opinion. Please! I think its great but because it deals with much debauched materials, quick-deciders like Rascoe may mistake it for Chambers. To me its facinating. I never get tired of it.
“Dodo” Benson is here. I think he is (or was) probably a fairy.
Zelda’s been sick in bed for five weeks, poor child, and is only now looking up. No news except I now get 2000 a story and they grow worse and worse and my ambition is to get where I need write no more but only novels. Is Lewis’ book any good. I imagine that mine is infinitely better—what else is well-reviewed this spring? Maybe my book is rotten but I don’t think so.
What are you writing? Please tell me something about your novel. And if I like the idea maybe I’ll make it into a short story for the Post to appear just before your novel and steal the thunder. Who’s going to do it? Bebé Daniels? She’s a wow!
How was Townsends first picture. Good reviews? What’s Alec doing? And Ludlow? And Bunny? Did you read Ernest Boyd’s account of what I might ironicly call our “private” life in his “Portraits?” Did you like it? I rather did.
Scott
I am quite drunk again and enclose a postage stamp.
TO: Willa Cather
Late March/early April 1925
ALS, 1 p. Princeton University
Hotel Tiberio, Capri, Italy
My Dear Miss Cather:
As one of your greatest admirers—an admirer particularly of My Antonia, A Lost Lady, Paul’s Case and Scandal I want to write to explain an instance of apparent plagiarism which some suspicious person may presently bring to your attention.
To begin with, my new book The Great Gatsby will appear about the time you recieve this letter (I am sending you the book besides). When I was in the middle of the first draft A Lost Lady was published and I read it with the greatest delight. One of the finest passages is the often-quoted one toward the end which includes the phrases “she seemed to promise a wild delight that he has not found in life. . . “I could show you” . . . ect (all misquoted here as I have no copy by me).1
Well, a month or two before I had written into my own book a parallel and almost similar idea in the description of a woman’s charm—an idea that I’d had for several years. Now my expression of this was neither so clear, nor so beautiful, nor so moving as yours but the essential similarity was undoubtedly there. I was worried because I hated the devil to cut mine out so I went to Ring Lardner and several other people and showed them mine and yours and finally decided to retain it. Also Ive kept the pages from my first draft to show you and am enclosing them here. The passage as finally worked out is in my Chapter One. Hoping you will understand my motive in communicating this to you I am1
With Best Wishes and Most Sincere Admiration
F. Scott Fitzgerald
TO: John Peak Bishop
April 1925
ALS, 5 pp. Princeton University
American Express Co.
Rome, Italy.
Dear John:
Your letter was perfect. It told us everything we wanted to know and the same day I read your article (very nice too) in Van. Fair about cherching the past. But you disappointed me with the quality of some of it (the news)—for instance that Bunnys play failed, that Townsend has got the swelled-head and that you + Margaret find life dull and depressing there. We want to come back but we want to come back with money saved and so far we havn’t saved any—tho I’m one novel ahead and book of pretty good (seven) short stories. I’ve done about 10 pieces of horrible junk in the last year tho that I can never republish or bear to look at—cheap and without the spontaneity of m
y first work. But the novel Im sure of. Its marvellous
We’re just back from Capri where I sat up (tell Bunny) half the night talking to my old idol Compton Mackenzie. Perhaps you met him. I found him cordial, attractive and pleasantly mundane. You get no sense from him that feels his work has gone to pieces. He’s not pompous about his present output. I think he’s just tired. The war wrecked him as it did Wells and many of that generation.
To show how well you geussed the gossip I wanted we were wondering where The Seldes got the money for Havana, whether The Film Guild finally collapsed (Christ! You should have seen their last two pictures—one from my story.2) But I don’t doubt that Frank Tuttle3 + Townsend will talk themselves into the Cabinet eventually. I do it myself if I could but I’m too much of an egotist + not enough of a diplomat ever to succeed in the movies. You must begin by placing the tongue flat against the posteriors of such worthys as Gloria Swanson + Allan Dwan and commence a slow carressing movement. Say what they may of Cruze—Famous Players is the product of two great ideas Demille4 + Gloria Swansons and it stands or falls not their “conference methods” but on those two + the stock pictures that imitate them. The Cruze winnings are usually lost on such expensive experiments as Frank Tuttle. (Needless to say this letter is not for T. M. or Alec, but for your ears alone.)
TO: Robert Kerr
April 1925
Inscription pasted in The Great Gatsby.1
Doris Kerr Brown
Capri, Italy
TO: Van Wyck Brooks2
April 1925
A Life in Letters Page 11