Cantitate/Preț
Produs
Total produse
Vezi coșul
This Side of Paradise de F. Scott Fitzgerald

This Side of Paradise

Autor F. Scott Fitzgerald
en Limba Engleză Paperback – 2 mai 2019
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald (September 24, 1896 - December 21, 1940) was an American writer of novels and short stories, whose works are evocative of the Jazz Age, a term he coined himself. He is widely regarded as one of the twentieth century's greatest writers. Fitzgerald is considered a member of the "Lost Generation" of the Twenties. He finished four novels, including This Side of Paradise, with another published posthumously, and wrote dozens of short stories that treat themes of youth and promise along with despair and age. This Side of Paradise is the debut novel of F. Scott Fitzgerald. Published in 1920, and taking its title from a line of the Rupert Brooke poem Tiare Tahiti, the book examines the lives and morality of post-World War I youth. Its protagonist, Amory Blaine, is an attractive Princeton University student who dabbles in literature and has the book's theme of love warped by greed and status-seeking. In the summer of 1919, 22-year-old Fitzgerald broke up with the girl he had been courting, Zelda Sayre. After being drunk for much of the summer he returned to St. Paul, Minnesota, where his family lived, to complete the novel, hoping that if he became a successful novelist he could win Zelda back. While at Princeton, Fitzgerald had written an unpublished novel called The Romantic Egotist and ultimately 80 pages of the typescript of this earlier work ended up in This Side of Paradise. On September 4, 1919, Fitzgerald gave the manuscript to a friend to deliver to Maxwell Perkins, an editor at Charles Scribner's Sons in New York. The book was nearly rejected by the editors at Scribners, but Perkins insisted, and on September 16 it was officially accepted. Fitzgerald begged for early publication-convinced that he would become a celebrity and impress Zelda-but was told that the novel would have to wait until the spring. Nevertheless, upon the acceptance of his novel for publication he went and visited Zelda and they resumed their courtship. His success imminent, she agreed to marry him. (Wikipedia.org)
Citește tot Restrânge

Toate formatele și edițiile

Toate formatele și edițiile Preț Express
Paperback (53) 3939 lei  22-36 zile
  Penguin Random House Group – 28 apr 2010 3939 lei  22-36 zile
  e-artnow – 2 iul 2022 4638 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 4769 lei  22-36 zile
  Barnes & Noble – 6 mar 2013 4833 lei  22-36 zile
  Alma Books COMMIS – 26 sep 2012 5185 lei  22-36 zile +1112 lei  6-12 zile
  Penguin Books – 24 ian 2001 5325 lei  25-31 zile +1946 lei  6-12 zile
  OUP OXFORD – 28 mai 2020 5333 lei  10-16 zile +1959 lei  6-12 zile
  – 5361 lei  22-36 zile
  UNION SQUARE & CO – 12 sep 2023 5372 lei  22-36 zile +1545 lei  6-12 zile
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6273 lei  22-36 zile
  Greenbook Publications, LLC – 31 iul 2010 6318 lei  22-36 zile
  Mint Editions – apr 2021 6900 lei  22-36 zile
  Vintage Books USA – 31 aug 2009 6990 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 7056 lei  22-36 zile
  – 8084 lei  22-36 zile
  – 8084 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 8143 lei  22-36 zile
  – 8445 lei  22-36 zile
  Scribner – 30 iun 1998 8965 lei  22-36 zile
  Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group Inc – mai 2004 9065 lei  22-36 zile
  Denton & White – 9281 lei  22-36 zile
  – 9391 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 9585 lei  22-36 zile
  – 9600 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 9608 lei  22-36 zile
  Penguin Books – 29 feb 1996 10031 lei  22-36 zile
  Urban Romantics – 7 ian 2017 11883 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 12234 lei  22-36 zile
  CREATESPACE – 13189 lei  22-36 zile
  Outlook Verlag – 24 sep 2019 26251 lei  22-36 zile
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 5481 lei  43-57 zile
  CREATESPACE – 6350 lei  43-57 zile
  Digireads.com – 19 mai 2016 7449 lei  43-57 zile
  – 7911 lei  43-57 zile
  – 7911 lei  43-57 zile
  – 8230 lei  43-57 zile
  LIGHTNING SOURCE INC – 25 sep 2018 8634 lei  17-23 zile
  CREATESPACE – 8758 lei  43-57 zile
  SMK Books – 20 oct 2010 9073 lei  43-57 zile
  Bottom of the Hill Publishing – 31 aug 2014 10372 lei  43-57 zile
  Bibliotech Press – 2 mai 2019 11068 lei  43-57 zile
  Bibliotech Press – 7 feb 2012 11081 lei  43-57 zile
  1ST WORLD LIB INC – 30 sep 2008 11148 lei  43-57 zile
  Rupa Publications – 5 ian 2013 11162 lei  43-57 zile
  NuVision Publications – 17 iul 2007 11536 lei  38-44 zile
  Indoeuropeanpublishing.com – 15 iul 2018 11768 lei  43-57 zile
  Martino Fine Books – 4 apr 2019 11911 lei  38-44 zile
  Echo Library – 17 iul 2017 12074 lei  38-44 zile
  Read & Co. Classics – 20 apr 2011 15123 lei  43-57 zile
  Simon & Brown – 30 oct 2018 20163 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 15 noi 2018 21568 lei  38-44 zile
  Vij Books India Private Limited – 19 apr 2023 26235 lei  43-57 zile
  Cambridge University Press – 18 apr 2012 26480 lei  43-57 zile
Hardback (11) 7205 lei  25-31 zile +3001 lei  6-12 zile
  Everyman's Library – 26 iun 1996 7205 lei  25-31 zile +3001 lei  6-12 zile
  Penguin Books – 3 noi 2010 10858 lei  22-36 zile +1755 lei  6-12 zile
  Scribner – 2 sep 2020 11053 lei  22-36 zile +1680 lei  6-12 zile
  Mint Editions – 26 apr 2021 11955 lei  22-36 zile
  Outlook Verlag – 24 sep 2019 40136 lei  22-36 zile
  Bibliotech Press – 2 mai 2019 20692 lei  43-57 zile
  1st World Publishing – 30 sep 2008 20945 lei  43-57 zile
  NuVision Publications – 31 ian 2009 21706 lei  38-44 zile
  SMK Books – 3 apr 2018 22901 lei  43-57 zile
  Simon & Brown – 30 oct 2018 25534 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 15 noi 2018 26748 lei  38-44 zile

Preț: 11068 lei

Nou

Puncte Express: 166
Preț estimativ în valută:
2118€ • 2200$ • 1759£

Carte tipărită la comandă

Livrare economică 03-17 februarie 25

 Adaugă în coș

Wish list
Gift list
Am citit!
Adaugă în listă
Preluare comenzi: 021 569.72.76

Specificații

ISBN-13: 9781618954787
ISBN-10: 1618954784
Pagini: 216
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 13 mm
Greutate: 0.36 kg
Editura: Bibliotech Press

Notă biografică

F. Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940) was an American novelist, essayist, and short-story writer. Born in St. Paul, Minnesota to Edward and Mary Fitzgerald, he was raised in Buffalo in a middle-class Catholic family. Fitzgerald excelled in school from a young age and was known as an active and curious student, primarily of literature. In 1908 the family returned to St. Paul, where Fitzgerald published his first work of fiction, a detective story, at the age of 13. He completed his high school education at the Newman School in New Jersey before enrolling at Princeton University. In 1917, reeling from an ill-fated relationship and waning in his academic pursuits, Fitzgerald dropped out of Princeton to join the Army. While stationed in Alabama, he began a relationship with Zelda Sayre, a Montgomery socialite. In 1919, he moved to New York City, where he struggled to launch his career as a writer. His first novel, This Side of Paradise (1920), was a resounding success, earning Fitzgerald a sustainable income and allowing him to marry Zelda. Following the birth of his daughter Scottie in 1921, Fitzgerald published his second novel, The Beautiful and the Damned (1922), and Tales of the Jazz Age (1922), a collection of short stories. His rising reputation in New York¿s social and literary scenes coincided with a growing struggle with alcoholism and the deterioration of Zeldäs mental health. Despite this, Fitzgerald managed to complete his masterpiece The Great Gatsby (1925), a withering portrait of corruption and decay at the heart of American society. After living for several years in France in Italy, the end of the decade marked the decline of Fitzgerald¿s reputation as a writer, forcing him to move to Hollywood in pursuit of work as a screenwriter. His alcoholism accelerated in these last years, leading to severe heart problems and eventually his death at the age of 44. By this time, he was virtually forgotten by the public, but critical reappraisal and his influence on such writers as Ernest Hemingway, J.D. Salinger, and Richard Yates would ensure his status as one of the greatest figures in twentieth-century American fiction.

Recenzii

'Arriving at an accurate and authoritative edition of Fitzgerald could hardly be more worthwhile, and West has done it superlatively. … [he] is doing a tremendously valuable service to Fitzgerald in particular and American literature in general, and we are all in his debt.' Scott Donaldson, The F. Scott Fitzgerald Review

Descriere

Descriere de la o altă ediție sau format:
The wise writer, I think, writes for the youth of his own generation, the critic of the next, and the schoolmasters of ever afterward.Following the education and young life of Amory Blaine, from indulged only child to disillusioned war veteran, This Side of Paradise is a thinly veiled account of Fitzgerald's time as a Princeton undergraduate and an aspiring writer set against the turbulent background of adolescence, first loves, and the outbreak of World War I. Amory moves through a dynamic whirl of exuberant youth, university escapades and adventures home and abroad as one of a new, restless American generation.This Side of Paradise ensured immediate fame as well as notoriety for F. Scott Fitzgerald. Not only Fitzgerald's bestselling novel during his lifetime, it was also the work against which each of his later novels was measured. It is impossible to overestimate the importance of This Side of Paradise: without it, the writing career of one of the twentieth-century's most popular novelists would have been immeasurably different. Brilliant and original in style and structure, brimful of literary experimentalism and fearless originality, it was a spectacular launching for Fitzgerald's career, and instantly stamped him as the bard of the Jazz Age.

Extras

Book One
The Romantic Egotist
Amory, Son of Beatrice

Amory Blaine inherited from his mother every trait, except the stray inexpressible few, that made him worth while. His father, an ineffectual, inarticulate man with a taste for Byron and a habit for drowsing over the Encyclopædia Britannica, grew wealthy at thirty through the death of two elder brothers, successful Chicago brokers, and in the first flush of feeling that the world was his, went to Bar Harbor and met Beatrice O’Hara. In consequence, Stephen Blaine handed down to posterity his height of just under six feet and his tendency to waver at crucial moments, these two abstractions appearing in his son Amory. For many years he hovered in the background of his family’s life, an unassertive figure with a face half-obliterated by lifeless, silky hair continually occupied in “taking care” of his wife, continually harassed by the idea that he didn’t and couldn’t understand her.

But Beatrice Blaine! There was a woman! Early pictures taken on her father’s estate at Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, or in Rome at the Sacred Heart Convent–an educational extravagance that in her youth was only for the daughters of the exceptionally wealthy–showed the exquisite delicacy of her features, the consummate art and simplicity of her clothes. A brilliant education she had–her youth passed in renaissance glory, she was versed in the latest gossip of the Older Roman Families; known by name as a fabulously wealthy American girl to Cardinal Vitori and Queen Margherita and more subtle celebrities that one must have had some culture even to have heard of. She learned in England to prefer whiskey and soda to wine, and her small talk was broadened in two senses during a winter in Vienna. All in all Beatrice O’Hara absorbed the sort of education that will be quite impossible ever again; a tutelage measured by the number of things and people one could be contemptuous of and charming about; a culture rich in all arts and traditions, barren of all ideas, in the last of those days when the great gardener clipped the inferior roses to produce one perfect bud.

In her less important moments she returned to America, met Stephen Blaine and married him–this almost entirely because she was a little bit weary, a little bit sad. Her only child was carried through a tiresome season and brought into the world on a spring day in ninety-six.

When Amory was five he was already a delightful companion for her. He was an auburn-haired boy, with great, handsome eyes which he would grow up to in time, a facile imaginative mind and a taste for fancy dress. From his fourth to his tenth year he did the country with his mother in her father’s private car, from Coronado, where his mother became so bored that she had a nervous breakdown in a fashionable hotel, down to Mexico City, where she took a mild, almost epidemic consumption. This trouble pleased her, and later she made use of it as an intrinsic part of her atmosphere–especially after several astounding bracers.

So, while more or less fortunate little rich boys were defying governesses on the beach at Newport, or being spanked or tutored or read to from “Do and Dare,” or “Frank on the Mississippi,” Amory was biting acquiescent bell-boys in the Waldorf, outgrowing a natural repugnance to chamber music and symphonies, and deriving a highly specialized education from his mother.

“Amory.”
“Yes, Beatrice.” (Such a quaint name for his mother; she encouraged it.)
“Dear, don’t think of getting out of bed yet. I’ve always suspected that early rising in early life makes one nervous. Clothilde is having your breakfast brought up.”
“All right.”
“I am feeling very old today, Amory,” she would sigh, her face a rare cameo of pathos, her voice exquisitely modulated, her hands as facile as Bernhardt’s. “My nerves are on edge–on edge. We must leave this terrifying place tomorrow and go searching for sunshine.”

Amory’s penetrating green eyes would look out through tangled hair at his mother. Even at this age he had no illusions about her.

“Amory.”
“Oh, yes.”
“I want you to take a red-hot bath–as hot as you can bear it, and just relax your nerves. You can read in the tub if you wish.”

She fed him sections of the “Fêtes Galantes” before he was ten; at eleven he could talk glibly, if rather reminiscently, of Brahms and Mozart and Beethoven. One afternoon, when left alone in the hotel at Hot Springs, he sampled his mother’s apricot cordial, and as the taste pleased him, he became quite tipsy. This was fun for a while, but he essayed a cigarette in his exaltation, and succumbed to a vulgar, plebeian reaction. Though this incident horrified Beatrice, it also secretly amused her and became part of what in a later generation would have been termed her “line.”

“This son of mine,” he heard her tell a room full of awe-struck, admiring women one day, “is entirely sophisticated and quite charming–but delicate–we’re all delicate; here, you know.” Her hand was radiantly outlined against her beautiful bosom; then sinking her voice to a whisper, she told them of the apricot cordial. They rejoiced, for she was a brave raconteuse, but many were the keys turned in sideboard locks that night against the possible defection of little Bobby or Barbara. . . .

These domestic pilgrimages were invariably in state; two maids, the private car, or Mr. Blaine when available, and very often a physician. When Amory had the whooping-cough four disgusted specialists glared at each other hunched around his bed; when he took scarlet fever the number of attendants, including physicians and nurses, totalled fourteen. However, blood being thicker than broth, he was pulled through.

The Blaines were attached to no city. They were the Blaines of Lake Geneva; they had quite enough relatives to serve in place of friends, and an enviable standing from Pasadena to Cape Cod. But Beatrice grew more and more prone to like only new acquaintances, as there were certain stories, such as the history of her constitution and its many amendments, memories of her years abroad, that it was necessary for her to repeat at regular intervals. Like Freudian dreams, they must be thrown off, else they would sweep in and lay siege to her nerves. But Beatrice was critical about American women, especially the floating population of ex-Westerners.

“They have accents, my dear,” she told Amory, “not Southern accents or Boston accents, not an accent attached to any locality, just an accent”–she became dreamy. “They pick up old, moth-eaten London accents that are down on their luck and have to be used by some one. They talk as an English butler might after several years in a Chicago grand opera company.” She became almost incoherent– “Suppose–time in every Western woman’s life–she feels her husband is prosperous enough for her to have–accent–they try to impress me, my dear–”
Though she thought of her body as a mass of frailties, she considered her soul quite as ill, and therefore important in her life. She had once been a Catholic, but discovering that priests were infinitely more attentive when she was in process of losing or regaining faith in Mother Church, she maintained an enchantingly wavering attitude. Often she deplored the bourgeois quality of the American Catholic clergy, and was quite sure that had she lived in the shadow of the great Continental cathedrals her soul would still be a thin flame on the mighty altar of Rome. Still, next to doctors, priests were her favorite sport.

“Ah, Bishop Wiston,” she would declare, “I do not want to talk of myself. I can imagine the stream of hysterical women fluttering at your doors, beseeching you to be simpatico”–then after an interlude filled by the clergyman–

“but my mood–is–oddly dissimilar.”

Only to bishops and above did she divulge her clerical romance. When she had first returned to her country there had been a pagan, Swinburnian young man in Asheville, for whose passionate kisses and unsentimental conversations she had taken a decided penchant–they had discussed the matter pro and con with an intellectual romancing quite devoid of soppiness. Eventually she had decided to marry for background, and the young pagan from Asheville had gone through a spiritual crisis, joined the Catholic Church, and was now–Monsignor Darcy.

“Indeed, Mrs. Blaine, he is still delightful company–quite the cardinal’s right-hand man.”
“Amory will go to him one day, I know,” breathed the beautiful lady, “and Monsignor Darcy will understand him as he understood me.”

Amory became thirteen, rather tall and slender, and more than ever on to his Celtic mother. He had tutored occasionally–the idea being that he was to “keep up,” at each place “taking up the work where he left off,” yet as no tutor ever found the place he left off, his mind was still in very good shape. What a few more years of this life would have made of him is problematical. However, four hours out from land, Italy bound, with Beatrice, his appendix burst, probably from too many meals in bed, and after a series of frantic telegrams to Europe and America, to the amazement of the passengers the great ship slowly wheeled around and returned to New York to deposit Amory at the pier. You will admit that if it was not life it was magnificent.

After the operation Beatrice had a nervous breakdown that bore a suspicious resemblance to delirium tremens, and Amory was left in Minneapolis, destined to spend the ensuing two years with his aunt and uncle. There the crude, vulgar air of Western civilization first catches him–in his underwear, so to speak.

Cuprins

This Side of Paradise Acknowledgments
Introduction by Patrick O'Donnell
Suggestions for Further Reading
A Note on the Text
This Side of Paradise
Book One: The Romantic Egotist
I. Amory, Son of Beatrice
II. Spires and Gargoyles
III. The Egotist Considers
IV. Narcissus Off Duty

[Interlude: May, 1917 - February, 1919.]

Book Two: The Education of a Personage
I. The Débutante
II. Experiments in Convalescence
III. Young Irony
IV. The Supercilious Sacrifice
V. The Egotist Becomes a Personage

Explanatory Notes