Download PDF Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc
Just how is to make certain that this Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc will not displayed in your bookshelves? This is a soft documents publication Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc, so you could download and install Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc by buying to get the soft data. It will relieve you to review it every time you require. When you really feel lazy to move the printed book from the home of office to some place, this soft file will relieve you not to do that. Due to the fact that you can only save the information in your computer unit and also gizmo. So, it enables you read it everywhere you have readiness to check out Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc
Download PDF Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc
Locate the trick to boost the lifestyle by reading this Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc This is a type of publication that you require now. Besides, it can be your favorite publication to check out after having this book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Do you ask why? Well, Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc is a publication that has different particular with others. You might not have to know that the author is, just how widely known the work is. As smart word, never judge the words from which talks, but make the words as your inexpensive to your life.
For everybody, if you wish to start accompanying others to check out a book, this Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc is much recommended. As well as you need to obtain the book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc right here, in the link download that we provide. Why should be below? If you want other kind of publications, you will consistently discover them and also Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Economics, national politics, social, scientific researches, religious beliefs, Fictions, and much more publications are supplied. These available books are in the soft data.
Why should soft file? As this Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc, many individuals also will need to acquire the book earlier. Yet, in some cases it's up until now means to obtain the book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc, even in other country or city. So, to relieve you in locating the books Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc that will sustain you, we aid you by giving the listings. It's not only the list. We will certainly give the suggested book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc link that can be downloaded and install straight. So, it will certainly not need even more times as well as days to pose it as well as other publications.
Accumulate guide Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc start from currently. Yet the brand-new method is by collecting the soft data of the book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Taking the soft documents can be conserved or saved in computer system or in your laptop. So, it can be greater than a book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc that you have. The most convenient means to expose is that you could likewise save the soft data of Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc in your ideal as well as available gadget. This problem will certainly mean you too often read Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc in the downtimes greater than talking or gossiping. It will not make you have bad habit, yet it will certainly lead you to have better practice to check out book Writers Between The Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives Of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, And Cads, By Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc.
What happened off the page was often a lot spicier than what was written on it...
Why did Norman Mailer stab his second wife at a party? Who was Edith Wharton’s secret transatlantic lover? What motivated Anaïs Nin to become a bigamist?
Writers Between the Covers rips the sheets off these and other real-life love stories of the literati—some with fairy tale endings and others that resulted in break-ups, breakdowns, and brawls. Among the writers laid bare are Agatha Christie, who sparked the largest-ever manhunt in England as her marriage fell apart; Arthur Miller, whose jaw-dropping pairing with Marilyn Monroe proved that opposites attract, at least initially; and T.S. Eliot, who slept in a deckchair on his disastrous honeymoon.
From the best break-up letters to the stormiest love triangles to the boldest cougars and cradle-robbers, this fun and accessible volume—packed with lists, quizzes and in-depth exposés—reveals literary history’s most titillating loves, lusts, and longings.
- Sales Rank: #1284436 in eBooks
- Published on: 2013-10-29
- Released on: 2013-10-29
- Format: Kindle eBook
About the Author
Joni Rendon, a freelance writer with a passion for reading and travel, spent ten years in marketing and editorial in the book publishing industry. She is coauthor, with Shannon McKenna Schmidt, of Novel Destinations.
Shannon McKenna Schmidt, a freelance writer with a passion for reading and travel, spent ten years working in marketing for various book publishers. She is coauthor, with Joni Rendon, of Novel Destinations.
A veteran of stage and screen, Peter Berkrot's career spans four decades, and his voice can be heard on television, radio, video games, and documentaries. He has been nominated for an Audie Award and has received a number of AudioFile Earphones Awards and starred reviews.
AudioFile Earphones Award winner Antony Ferguson is a native of London, England. He is a classically trained actor and has appeared in numerous productions in London, Off-Broadway, and regional theater. As a voice actor, he has over fifty audiobooks to his credit. Antony lives in Los Angeles.
Ann Marie Lee has worked extensively as an actress in the theater, as well as on television and film. She has recorded numerous audiobooks and has received several AudioFile Earphones Awards and a Publishers Weekly Listen-Up Award.
Michelle Ford is a native Brit and professional voice actor who has narrated in a wide variety of genres, including contemporary fiction, historical romance, biography, science fiction, and business. Michelle lives in New York.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof.***
Copyright © 2013 by Joni Rendon and Shannon McKenna Schmidt
The Love Song of T. S. Eliot
T.S. Eliot
*
What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.
—T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding
During his disastrous honeymoon, T. S. Eliot reportedly spent the night in a deck chair while his bride barricaded herself inside their hotel room. The neurotic pair’s eighteen-year partnership produced numerous nervous breakdowns and some of the twentieth century’s finest poetry.
*
The truth will all come out, if not in our life—then after it,” promised Vivienne Eliot, wife of famed modernist poet t. S. (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, from the asylum where she had been committed against her will in 1938. She blamed Eliot’s cruelty for causing her breakdown and longed for the world to know her side of the story.
Although she was eccentric and plagued by a nervous disposition, Vivienne may not have been the “mad” Ophelia that history has made her out to be. Decades after her death in 1947, her brother, who signed her incarceration papers, admitted, “It was only when I saw Vivie in the asylum for the last time I realised I had done something very wrong. . . . She was as sane as I was.” Like Zelda Fitzgerald, the neurotic wife of another famous writer, Vivienne died while institutionalized.
She had spent her last hours of freedom wandering the streets of London in a delusional state, not unlike the tortured wife in Eliot’s poem The Waste Land, who proclaims in desperation, “I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street.” When her brother was summoned to collect her, he wrote alarmingly to the vacationing poet that Vivienne was “full of the most fantastic suspicions. She asked me if it was true that you had been beheaded.”
Vivienne’s grip on reality had steadily loosened after Eliot deserted her five years earlier. Coldly, he had informed her of his desire to separate in a letter from his solicitor, sent while he was abroad teaching. His cowardly action avoided a painful confrontation, which he continued to forestall after his return to England by going into hiding.
Denied even the chance to meet with her husband, Vivienne refused to accept their breakup and became convinced she could change his mind if she could only speak to him again in person. Eliot refused, insisting through his lawyers that further discussions were “fruitless and unnecessary.” His abrupt and inexplicable withdrawal would have driven even the sanest of wives to the brink, but for a woman already plagued by abandonment issues, it spelled disaster. Overcome with a growing sense of helplessness and hysteria, Vivienne began to stalk him.
Her attempts to track him down through the passport office and their dentist were foiled by his frequent moves, and she took to haunting his workplace. Embarrassingly, she would sit weeping in the waiting room while Eliot slipped out the back door, alerted by a special ring from his secretary. Evenings would find her canvassing performances of his plays, hoping for a sighting.
Out of options, she attempted to place an advertisement in the Times personals, which the newspaper withheld from publication. The ad pleaded: “Will t. S. Eliot please return to his home 68 Clarence Gate Gardens which he abandoned Sept. 17th, 1932.” even after bailiffs raided her apartment to repossess her estranged husband’s belongings, she clung to the hope that he might return and would often leave the door ajar.
After three long years, Vivienne’s perseverance was briefly rewarded when she tracked Eliot down at a book signing. She approached him but was swiftly rebuffed: “I cannot talk to you now,” Eliot said dismissively, before rushing off. He never again made an effort to see her, either before or during her nine-year incarceration. Although he was said to be acting on the advice of her doctors, his complete disengagement seems unfeeling and inhumane.
When Vivienne’s brother rang in 1947 to tell him she had unexpectedly died (possibly from a deliberate overdose), the poet is said to have become profoundly distressed, crying out, “Oh God, oh God.” Despite his conviction that leaving had been a necessary act of self-preservation, he was nonetheless tormented by his decision. His autobiographical play The Family Reunion, about a tortured man who may or may not have killed his wife, is thought to have been an attempt to grapple with his conflicted feelings.
For a repressed man who spent a lifetime fleeing emotion, Eliot’s choice of a flamboyant, high-strung bride like Vivienne is puzzling. The mismatched pair had wed after a whirlwind courtship while the shy American poet was a student at Oxford. Cracks in their marriage began showing immediately, when Vivienne’s unpredictable menstrual period arrived on their honeymoon.
It’s hard to say who was more distressed, the nervous bride or the inexperienced poet, who was still a virgin and squeamish about female sexuality. The reluctant Romeo was also hamstrung by embarrassment over his hernia, and the abortive first night of passion did little to boost his confidence. Vivienne’s insistence on bringing home the soiled sheets for laundering only prolonged the painful ordeal.
Flummoxed by her husband’s disinterest in sex, Vivienne consoled herself in the arms of his former teacher, the philosopher Bertrand Russell. Eliot may have tacitly condoned the affair, happy to be off the hook in the bedroom. At the time, he was preoccupied with his dawning awareness of Vivienne’s many maladies. In addition to suffering from manic depression and a hormonal imbalance, she had debilitating migraines, neuralgia, rheumatism, and later developed an eating disorder and addiction to pain medication.
Vivienne’s illnesses blighted every aspect of their existence, but Eliot stuck it out for more than a decade. He bore her difficulties with saintly patience, even giving up teaching for a higher-paid job in a bank so he could afford her mounting medical expenses. His round-the-clock ministrations brought on his own collapses, which would render him bedridden for weeks at a time.
Still, there were unexpected compensations. “Vivienne ruined him as a man but she made him as a poet,” claimed an acquaintance. Eliot himself later admitted, “to her the marriage brought no happiness . . . to me, it brought the state of mind out of which came The Waste Land.” the 434-line confessional poem, considered one of the greatest of the twentieth century, was largely composed in a Swiss sanitarium while he was being treated for his own breakdown.
Eliot’s illnesses and heavy drinking offered him a refuge from his marriage as his wife’s bizarre behavior intensified. Among other eccentricities, she took to carrying a toy knife in her handbag, once using it to threaten Virginia Woolf, whom she accused of being Eliot’s mistress. Sympathetic to the poet, Woolf spoke of Vivienne as a “bag of ferrets” around his neck, forever “biting, wriggling, raving, scratching.” Vivienne’s erratic actions, Eliot’s compensatory drinking, and their constant mutual sniping hampered their social life. Friends described being sucked dry by their presence, and many refused to see the dysfunctional pair together anymore.
As the marriage reached its inexorable conclusion, Eliot laid the foundations for a separate life by joining the Church of England and taking a vow of chastity, an insurance policy against any more bad sex. He also began a secret correspondence with Bostonian Emily Hale, who had been his first love while he was a student at Harvard. Both of their families had assumed the sweethearts would marry, until Eliot’s move to Europe and his impulsive decision to wed Vivienne. Twelve years after being thrown over, Emily wrote to her former flame, instigating a furtive but chaste cross-Atlantic friendship.
Over the next three decades, the poet penned her more than a thousand letters, and she frequently visited him in England. When Vivienne was found wandering the streets and committed to an asylum, Emily and Eliot were away together. Despite their closeness, Eliot imposed a wall of secrecy around their relationship and few in his circle knew of Emily’s existence.
Emily acquiesced to remaining in the shadows, believing her virtuous silence would be rewarded with a walk down the aisle. But after Vivienne passed away, she was dismayed to find Eliot unwilling to make a commitment. Instead he claimed he felt incapable of ever sharing a life with anyone again. Their friendship continued in spite of the crushing rejection, perhaps because Emily, like Vivienne before her, did not give up hope that he might reconsider.
She might have reacted differently if she had known that the unlikely playboy had another gal pal in the wings. Englishwoman Mary Trevelyan had been Eliot’s confidante and frequent escort to social events since the year of Vivienne’s confinement. Although he gave off mixed signals by sending her presents and sometimes holding her hand, he also discouraged intimacy by limiting their contact to once every two weeks. Undeterred by Eliot’s standoffishness, Mary proposed to him three times. Each time the poet demurred, claiming he thought they were just friends and that the idea of remarrying was like a nightmare.
Despite his seemingly implacable stance on marriage, at the age of sixty-eight Eliot stunned everyone by tying the knot with his thirty-year-old secretary, Valerie Fletcher. The couple exchanged vows in a secret ceremony that took place at 7:00 a.m. to avoid publicity, and was witnessed only by the bride’s parents and a single friend. Not a soul had known of this covert office romance. After hearing the shocking news, Mary Trevelyan stopped speaking to him, while Emily Hale had a nervous breakdown.
Eliot’s second marriage brought him immense happiness. He and Valerie were inseparable, and those who knew him marveled at his profound contentment. Not known for sentimentality or romanticism, he broke the stereotype by publishing a love poem called “a Dedication to My Wife.” the verse describes an ideal union between two people “Who think the same thoughts without need of speech / and babble the same speech without need of meaning.”
The second Mrs. Eliot was equally besotted, having been a devotee of the poet since age fourteen when she heard a recording of his poem “Journey of the Magi.” Fate was on her side when, after training as a secretary, she learned of an opening working for Eliot at the publishing firm Faber and Faber. During Valerie’s seven years as his devoted employee, the couple’s feelings quietly blossomed until she received Eliot’s coy handwritten proposal in a batch of typing.
Cynics claim the ailing poet, who suffered from emphysema and heart problems, had married to secure a trustworthy nursemaid and literary executor, though Valerie disputed this interpretation. “He obviously needed to have a happy marriage. He wouldn’t die until he’d had it,” she said. “There was a little boy in him that needed to be released.”
*
BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO
*
Before social media made saying sayonara as easy as changing your Facebook status, the time-honored tradition of the breakup letter did the dirty work.
To have and have not. Prior to earning his macho reputation as a love ’em and leave ’em ladies man, eighteen-year-old Ernest Hemingway had his heart broken by an older woman during World War I. While serving as an ambulance driver on the Italian front, the writer was injured by exploding shrapnel and tended to by Agnes von Kurowsky, a pretty American Red Cross nurse. A heady romance ensued, but their plans to marry were dashed when Agnes (the model for Catherine Barkley in A Farewell to Arms) fell for someone else and crushed him with a Dear John letter:
For quite awhile before you left, I was trying to convince myself it was a real love-affair. . . . Now, after a couple of months away from you, I know that I am still very fond of you, but, it is more as a mother than as a sweetheart.
Valley girl. Before Jacqueline Susann found stardom with her tale of bed-hopping, pill-popping starlets, Valley of the Dolls, the struggling actress funded her glamorous lifestyle by marrying wealthy publicist Irving Mansfield. The two sybarites enjoyed the good life, living in a posh New York City hotel and dining on steak and Dom Pérignon. But after Irving was drafted into the army, Susann fell for someone else. She composed a heartlessly humorous kiss-off letter and read it aloud to her shocked cast mates before mailing it to Mansfield:
Irving, when we were at the Essex House and I had room service and I could buy all my Florence Lustig dresses, I found that I loved you very much, but now that you’re in the army and getting $56 a month, I feel that my love has waned.
It’s not you; it’s me. Like her famous character Jane Eyre, who turned down a marriage proposal from a man she didn’t love, Charlotte Brontë did the same when her best friend’s brother popped the question. Although the twenty-three-year-old novelist thought herself unattractive and doubted other offers would come her way, she refused to make a passionless match simply for the sake of security. Rebuffing her dull clergyman-suitor, she gently explained that she was not the right wife for him:
My answer to your proposal must be a decided negative. . . . I have no personal repugnance to the idea of a union with you—but I feel convinced that mine is not the sort of disposition calculated to form the happiness of a man like you. . . . I am not the serious, grave, cool-headed individual you suppose.
Exile on Main Street. The marriage between Nobel laureate Sinclair Lewis and foreign correspondent Dorothy Thompson was troubled from the start. Thompson mistakenly thought she could reform the notorious alcoholic, while the insecure author of classics like Babbitt and Main Street was jealous of his wife’s political clout. (Once, while they were in bed together, President Roosevelt rang for Dorothy.) After more than a decade of marriage, Lewis stormed out, claiming his wife’s success had robbed him of his creativity. While Dorothy was reluctant to part ways, she finally agreed to call it quits four years later:
Go ahead and get a divorce. I won’t oppose it. I also won’t get it. For God’s sake, let’s be honest. You left me, I didn’t leave you. You want it. I don’t. You get it. On any ground your lawyers can fake up. Say I “deserted” you. Make a case for mental cruelty. You can make a case. Go and get it.
Beautiful and Damned
F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald
*
Nobody has ever measured, even the poets, how much a heart can hold.
—Zelda Fitzgerald, “The Big Top”
During one unforgettable week in 1920, F. Scott Fitzgerald published his debut novel, This Side of Paradise, and married his dream girl, Zelda Sayre. Their charmed life cracked up within a decade, heartbreakingly mired in alcoholism, mental illness, infidelity, and artistic rivalry— leading Fitzgerald to bitterly lament that his capacity for hope was left on the road to Zelda’s sanitarium.
In the summer of 1918, at a country club dance in Montgomery, Alabama, dashing young army lieutenant F. Scott Fitzgerald met free-spirited, flirtatious Zelda Sayre, who had a reputation for speaking her mind and engaging in wild behavior like smoking in public. A stormy courtship ensued, with endearing, passionate, and angry letters exchanged between the southern belle and her beau, who worked as a poorly paid advertising copywriter in New York City after leaving the military.
While eager to escape her parents’ home and start a new life, Zelda nonetheless took a hard line with Fitzgerald. She broke off their relationship and refused to marry him until he made something of himself and could support them in high style. Zelda’s declaration, along with steep competition for her affections, spurred the aspiring novelist to take a leap of faith. He jettisoned his job and sequestered himself in his parents’ attic in Saint Paul, Minnesota, to work on his writing.
Within months of being given this ultimatum, Fitzgerald jubilantly ran up and down the streets of his hometown as he shouted out the news that his first novel, This Side of Paradise, was going to appear in print. Picked up by a renowned publisher, the book brought him instant fame, considerable cash, and a new bride. A week after it debuted in April 1920, selling out the initial printing within days, he and Zelda tied the knot at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. The twenty-three-year-old groom and his nineteen-year-old bride honeymooned at the Biltmore Hotel, where their drunken revels got so out of hand that they were asked to check out and take the festivities elsewhere.
The public was fascinated by the striking pair, who epitomized the glamour and lavishness of the postwar 1920s, a period Scott famously dubbed the Jazz age. The fashionable, vivacious Zelda shared the limelight with her spouse and even gave joint interviews with him. She represented a new generation of liberated women who emerged in the roaring twenties, as young people disillusioned by the devastation of World War I rebelled against old-fashioned conventions and attitudes. Determined to be recognized as men’s equals, flappers like Zelda boldly cut their hair into boyish bobs, abandoned corsets for shift dresses with shortened hemlines, drove motorcars, defied Prohibition at speakeasies, and treated sex in a newly casual manner.
“I married the heroine of my stories,” boasted the novelist. He was already writing about flappers when he met Zelda, the flesh-and-blood embodiment of his fictional creations. Scott infused the character of Rosalind Connage in This Side of Paradise with aspects of his love interest’s personality, mannerisms, and witticisms (often verbatim). He gave Zelda chapters of the novel to read, courting her in a unique way that both charmed her and appealed to her vanity.
Despite flattering Zelda by immortalizing her in print, Scott was still smarting over being dumped by her until his coffers increased. He denied the novel’s lovesick Princeton University student Amory Blaine a walk down the aisle with the debutante Rosalind. “Marrying you would be a failure and I never fail,” she blithely informs her smitten suitor before running off with a wealthier man. The fictional heartbreaker’s callous treatment of Amory, however, didn’t dissuade Zelda from identifying with her. “I like the ones that are like me! That’s why I love Rosalind in This Side of Paradise,” she proclaimed. “I like their courage, their recklessness and spendthriftness.”
Before Fitzgerald published any additional novels, he and Zelda produced their only child. Following a two-month trip to England, France, and Italy, they retreated to Saint Paul to await the arrival of their daughter, Scottie, in October 1921. Becoming parents didn’t slow down their hard-partying ways. They headed east, baby in tow, resuming their life of excess in Manhattan and Great neck, the suburban Long Island town that provided a model for West egg in The Great Gatsby.
The couple regularly showed up in gossip columns because of outrageous escapades like riding atop a taxi down Fifth Avenue, jumping into a public fountain (Zelda), and undressing at a theater (Scott). Their turbulent, hedonistic lifestyle and alcohol-fueled fights offered fodder for Scott’s second novel, The Beautiful and Damned. The story follows New York City socialites Anthony and Gloria Patch from heady days of extravagance and nonstop revelry to a sobering new reality when an anticipated inheritance doesn’t materialize.
Zelda penned a cheeky review of The Beautiful and Damned in which she implored readers to buy the book as she had her eye on a pricey gold dress and a platinum ring. But underlying the seemingly irreverent piece is a serious admission. “On one page I recognized a portion of an old diary of mine which mysteriously disappeared shortly after my marriage, and also scraps of letters which, though considerably edited, sound to me vaguely familiar,” revealed Zelda. “In fact, Mr. Fitzgerald . . . seems to believe that plagiarism begins at home.”
Not only did Fitzgerald attribute some of Zelda’s physical characteristics and personality traits to his characters, with her consent he lifted passages from her journals and letters to use in his fiction. At the time this “plagiarism” was something of a lark to Zelda and a way for her to support the breadwinner who funded their swanky lifestyle. When a well-known drama critic happened upon her lively diaries during one of the couple’s soirées and expressed interest in publishing them, Scott opposed the idea because he wanted dibs on the material for his novels and short stories.
The Fitzgerald’s’ finances were perpetually shaky, with the royalty checks spent almost as soon as they were cashed. In 1924, after the failure of a play they were counting on to boost their bank account, the couple and their daughter set sail for Europe, where a favorable exchange rate meant they could afford a grander lifestyle.
After a brief stay in Paris, Scott and Zelda headed to the French Riviera in search of the solitude he needed to write. At a seaside villa, he shut himself away for long periods and forbade any interruptions while he worked on The Great Gatsby. Lonely and resentful at being abandoned, Zelda struck up an intimate friendship with French aviator Edouard Jozan. “I must say everyone knew about it but Scott,” remarked an acquaintance who witnessed the budding affair.
A histrionic scene ensued when Zelda confessed to Scott that she was in love with Jozan and asked for a divorce. He furiously responded that her lover would have to confront him in her presence. Zelda backed down and ultimately decided to stay with Scott, having regained his attention with the illicit fling but still desperately unhappy. The incident further damaged their already strained relationship, and shortly afterward she tried to commit suicide by taking an overdose of sleeping pills.
“That September 1924 I knew something had happened that could never be repaired,” Fitzgerald said of the unhappy period. He admitted having encouraged his wife to spend time with Jozan as a distraction while he worked. Although other men routinely fell in love with Zelda, “it never occurred to me that the friendship could turn into an affair,” he said. And yet he acknowledged that he may have unconsciously encouraged the situation to stimulate his fiction. An affair with tragic consequences is integral to The Great Gatsby’s storyline. Infidelity is also a pivotal plot point in a later work, Tender Is the Night, in which Nicole Diver leaves her psychiatrist husband for a mercenary soldier.
The couple’s incessant love of drama found expression in the various embellished accounts of the love triangle they shared with friends and acquaintances, including the claim that Scott locked Zelda in the villa for a month after finding out about her romance. She falsely reported that a despondent Jozan killed himself, while her husband boasted that he had challenged her admirer to a duel. According to Scott’s fantasized account, both men fired and missed— an episode that appears in Tender Is the Night.
Back in Paris, the Fitzgeralds fell in with other expatriate writers, including Ernest Hemingway, who made some sharp observations about the couple’s relationship in the memoir A Moveable Feast. He believed his fellow writer was talented enough that he might have surpassed his masterwork, The Great Gatsby, if not for a critical factor. “I did not know Zelda yet,” Hemingway wrote, “and so I did not know the terrible odds that were against him.”
In Hemingway’s opinion, Zelda was jealous of Scott’s work and encouraged him to drink to excess so he wouldn’t be able to write. “As soon as he was working well Zelda would begin complaining about how bored she was and get him off on another drunken party,” he recalled. “They would quarrel and then make up and he would sweat out the alcohol on long walks with me, and make up his mind that this time he would really work, and would start off well. Then it would start all over again.”
According to the gossipy Hemingway, who had a notoriously contentious acquaintance with Zelda, she verbally emasculated her husband by telling him he could never make a woman happy in bed. “She said it was a matter of measurements,” confided Fitzgerald, who hadn’t slept with anyone expect his wife. In the bathroom of a Paris restaurant, Hemingway assessed his writer pal’s implement, deemed it acceptable, and called Zelda crazy.
On subsequent trips to the Riviera following Zelda’s affair, both Fitzgeralds began drinking more heavily. They became increasingly and deliberately reckless, daring each other to cliff dive into the sea at night and driving dangerously on winding mountain roads. While dining out one evening, Scott flirted with dancer Isadora Duncan, who was seated at a nearby table. As she stroked his hair and called him her centurion, Zelda launched herself down a set of stone stairs.
After two and a half tumultuous years abroad, the Fitzgeralds returned stateside but found little respite from their marital woes. During a stay in Hollywood, Zelda was distressed by Scott’s blatant infatuation with seventeen-year-old actress Lois Moran. He would often take the young girl and her mother out on the town, leaving his wife behind. Scott further upset Zelda with his effusive praise of Moran’s initiative in forging a career, something she desired for herself. (When she had expressed an interest in acting, years earlier, he derided her ambition and ultimately persuaded her against it.) During one desolate evening alone, she made a bonfire in the hotel bathtub and destroyed clothes she had designed herself.
On their way back east by train, Scott informed his wife that he had invited Moran to visit them once they found a home. Zelda responded to this malicious pronouncement by tossing out the window a platinum and diamond wristwatch Scott had bought her as an engagement gift.
It’s not known for certain if Fitzgerald’s involvement with Moran—whose short blonde hair and facial features were strikingly similar to his wife’s—was merely emotional or turned physical. She did, at any rate, leave enough of an impression to inspire rosemary Hoyt, the beautiful teenaged actress with whom Dick Diver, a married man twice her age, has an affair in Tender Is the Night. Even the name rosemary is a not-so-subtle reference to Moran, taken from the character she played in the film The Road to Mandalay.
When introducing readers to rosemary, Fitzgerald waxed poetic about the character’s youth and looks. “Her fine forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like an armorial shield, burst into lovelocks and waves and curlicues of ash blonde and gold,” he wrote. “Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood—she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her.”
Fitzgerald toiled for years on Tender Is the Night, which appeared nine years after The Great Gatsby. Zelda meanwhile had a creative awakening of her own and began painting, writing, and taking ballet lessons, a youthful interest revived during her time in Paris. She penned articles and short stories that appeared under a dual byline with her husband, who was seen as the top draw by magazine editors. In at least one instance, a tale she wrote appeared solely as his creation.
The couple crossed the Atlantic two more times for extended stays. While living in Paris, thirty-year-old Zelda suffered her first mental breakdown, triggered in part by obsessive and strenuous ballet practice. In 1930, less than a month after the couple’s tenth wedding anniversary, she entered a clinic for a short time. When hallucinations recurred and she again attempted suicide, Fitzgerald took her to a sanatorium in Switzerland. Zelda spent the rest of her life in and out of institutions in Europe and the United States, with Scott standing by her and often taking lodgings nearby.
The deck may have been stacked against the couple from the start. It’s possible that Zelda, whose family had a history of mental illness, suffered from manic depression or schizophrenia, or perhaps both. Not much was known about either disease at the time. Likewise, the alcoholism that afflicted Scott was not yet recognized as an addiction but instead seen as a moral failing or a character flaw. Others speculate that Zelda’s maladies had a far simpler cause: stifled artistic creativity.
During a stay at a Baltimore clinic in 1932, Zelda turned out, in less than two months, the autobiographical novel Save Me the Waltz. She incorporated elements of her life with Scott, which infuriated him because it overlapped with material he was using in Tender Is the Night. He became even more enraged when he learned that Zelda had sent her novel to his editor, who wanted to publish it. Along with demanding that half the royalties be applied to debts he owed the publisher, Scott took a heavy hand in editing the story, including reworking the portrayal of the fictional husband to make him more sympathetic.
When Hollywood beckoned again, Fitzgerald heeded the call and signed on as a scriptwriter with a movie studio. He took up romantically with gossip columnist Sheilah Graham and started working on a novel, The Love of the Last Tycoon. Living a fairly quiet life, he altered some of his self-destructive behavior, even giving up drinking in his last year. But it was too little too late, and the forty-our-year-old writer died of a heart attack at Graham’s apartment in December 1940.
A year and a half before Scott’s death, he and Zelda saw each other for the last time during a drama-filled holiday in Cuba. After Scott became drunk and was severely beaten while trying to break up a cockfight, Zelda took charge and got them back to the States. Upon their return, he wrote to her of the affection he still had for her: “You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, most beautiful person I have ever known.”
Seven years after Scott’s death, Zelda too met an untimely and tragic end. While she was locked in a north Carolina hospital room awaiting electroshock treatment, a nighttime fire broke out, killing her and eight other women. The Jazz age chronicler and his muse are laid to rest in a Maryland cemetery, where their shared tomb is etched with The Great Gatsby’s concluding line: “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
*
COUGERS AND CRADLE ROBBERS
*
These May-December romantics were undeterred by their vast differences in age.
Fourteen years. Cradle robber Edgar Allan Poe wed
His thirteen-year-old cousin, Virginia Clemm, though he respectfully waited until his bride turned sixteen before consummating their union.
Sixteen years. With a failed heterosexual marriage
Behind her, venerated 1960s essayist Susan Sontag found her soul mate in celebrity photographer Annie Leibovitz, sixteen years her junior.
Seventeen years. Nineteen-year-old Rebecca West
Captured H. G. Wells’s attention when she panned his novel Marriage in a feminist journal. The married, middle-aged writer’s subsequent invitation to dine morphed into a decade-long affair that produced a son.
Eighteen years. Thomas Wolfe’s long-term affair
With MILF Aline Bernstein began on the last night of a transatlantic voyage, when the two jumped in the sack just hours after meeting.
Twenty-four years. Under pressure to write a novel
In one month or face losing all of his copyrights, debt-ridden Fyodor Dostoyevsky hired stenographer Anna Snitkina. Impressed by more than just her shorthand skills, he proposed within nine days of dictating The Gambler.
Most helpful customer reviews
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Dangerous Literary Liasons
By Author Bill Peschel
There’s nothing that strengthens a marriage like spending time with another couple. It’s a bonding experience to dissect their lives afterwards with your spouse and no greater joy than to finish with “thank God we’re not like THEM, honey.”
“Writers Between the Covers” is like a 25-lesson course in couples counseling (with 25 sidebars bearing provocative titles such as “Six Degrees of Copulation,” “Romance with Death,” and “The Wit of a Wounded Woman” in case you didn’t get the point). In fact, the book should carry a warning label for singletons who still believe in true love and happily ever after.
The roll call of disastrous liaisons is longer than the list of alcoholic writers. Many writers drink, but nearly all of them shack up with someone at some time. “Authors Shannon McKenna Schmidt and Joni Rendon plowed through an ungodly number of biographies and memoirs to bring back these sometimes hellish tales of loving and losing. There’s Simone de Beauvoir, the feminist icon who procured students for Jean-Paul Sarte. There’s Agatha Christie, who was swept away by her true love, only to be dumped when he tired of her (at her death, she still kept his letters and wedding ring near her). Isak Dinesen got the clap from her husband and endured numerous infidelities. Charles Dickens dumped his wife in a public scandal over an actress. And need I add Lord Byron (affairs, incest, abandonment); F. Scott Fitzgerald (spendthrift, drunk, absconder of Zelda’s journal); Norman Mailer (wife abuser, serial betrayer); and Ernest Hemingway (jerk)?
Some, like de Beauvoir, made their peace with the beds they made while others like Daphne du Maurier experienced a lifetime of sorrow. Very few succeeded, like Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas and Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Mostly, it seems like the only success they achieved was to leave behind works of lasting importance. Coincidence?
A confession: while writing “Writers Gone Wild,” I had researched some of the same stories. I’m even publishing an annotated version of Christie’s second novel. Envy and suspicion is in my genes, so while reading a review copy of “Writers Between the Covers,” part of me was standing aside, saying, “Show me.” And they did. They told me new stories and filled in the gaps in the familiar tales. Part of it was due to the authors casting a wider net, telling the story, for example, of Mailer’s lifetime of serial infidelities rather than focusing on the time he stabbed his first wife in the back. They had access to new and more recent biographies and memoirs. Plus, their book is devoted solely to love and sex, which made up a few chapters in my book.
So if you love reading about the lives of great writers, “Writers Between the Covers” will get you between the sheets (and in the case of James Joyce’s dirty letters to Nora, a bit hot and bothered as well). Just don’t give it to your writer-friend’s new spouse. That would be cruel.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Joni Rendon & Shannon McKenna Schmidt's "Writers Between the Covers" is 100% full of casanovas, coquettes, and cads
By Lori Parker
"Some writers should come with a warning label." -- The introduction hits the nail on the head! This is 256 pages of creative adultery, eye-popping trigamy and polygamy, feisty femme fatales, views inside asylums and laws about sexual relations, mysterious murders, robbery, plagiarism, and broken dreams.
Although the authors memorialized within are highly representative of classic literature -- Edgar Allan Poe, Ernest Hemingway, Arthur Miller, Victor Hugo, Lord Byron, etc. -- they dallied with names that resonate with anyone who didn't pay attention in English class, such as Marilyn Monroe. And, if the author didn't sleep with the media mogul himself, he likely stole that person's girlfriend (Sorry about that not-quite-yet President Bill Clinton).
Two moments in this work of nonfiction stick out in my mind. First -- I'm not saying who this happened to -- an author got bail money from his wife for a wedding gift. He was in jail for helping to conceal a murder weapon. Ummm, seriously? She marries him while he's in handcuffs and then pays for him to get out!
Second, one author comments about another's wife that the wife is a "bag of ferrets" around his neck. No, that's not a compliment in the text (but it ought to be).
This is a salacious and scandalous read, but it's info-dump format on so many authors makes it a reference book or a coffee table conversation piece. You can't just sit down and devour "Writers Between the Covers" in one sitting. This is a "nibbler," not your favorite dessert. However, you'll certainly learn much and find many surprises awaiting you in these pages. Better yet, considering some of the "measurements" and "positions" commented on within, maybe you should just hide this one... under the covers.
* * * * *
This review is compliments of an ARC. I'll probably review anything, but a free book doesn't buy a positive review. Click my name for more honesty.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Guaranteed to give you hours of scintillating discussion
By Bookreporter
Virginia Woolf once said: “Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.” Well, one might argue, it’s written even larger in their lives. Most fans of fiction remember what Emma Bovary got up to in that carriage, or what drunken debauchery Hemingway’s characters took part in. But did you ever wonder where the creators behind these great works of fiction got their inspiration?
Wonder no more. Finally, we know exactly what happened to Agatha Christie during her mysterious disappearance in 1926, which prompted a nationwide manhunt. We have the answers to questions like: Why did Marilyn Monroe compare meeting Arthur Miller to “running into a tree”? Did Norman Mailer really stab his second wife at an all-night party? (And why the heck did she go back to him, however briefly?) Was Zelda Fitzgerald as crazy as literary legend would have you believe? These are just a few of the questions that get answered in this unputdownable volume of literary scandals and chagrins. The writers and stories are broken down into seven sections, each highlighting the scandalous love lives behind the writers in question, and punctuated by short sidebars with fun factoids about each topic.
Lord Byron was the closest thing to a rock star his age had seen. Dubbed “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know” by one conquest, with all his bed-hopping and carousing, one might wonder how he had time to write at all. The Times called him “the most remarkable Englishman of his generation,” but it wasn’t just his literary prowess that was remarkable. He was the classic “love ‘em and leave ‘em” lothario, quickly getting bored and moving on to his next conquest. After an ill-fated marriage, rumors of incest (with a half-sister) and homosexuality (a fondness for young boys) began to surface, making him persona-non-grata in London. He fled to Europe, never to return again.
Never was the battle of the sexes more clearly illustrated than with the long-standing relationship between Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. The woman who once declared that “love for the woman is total abdication for the benefit of a master” decided to rewrite the rules when it came to her love life. Considering herself a feminist and feeling that marriage, for a woman, was “drawing the short straw,” she repeatedly turned down Sartre’s marriage proposals in favor of a more open relationship. They would remain devoted to each other but were also free to see other people, with the caveat that they would tell each other everything, never lie, and share every detail of their extracurricular activities.
This arrangement fostered a competitive environment between the two intellectuals when they both began vying for the affections of one of de Beauvoir’s young female students: “No matter how progressive de Beauvoir thought herself when it came to relationships, the green-eyed monster once again had her in its grip when faced with Sartre’s unabated desire for another woman. Working through her conflicted feelings, she used the love triangle as the basis for her first novel, SHE CAME TO STAY.” Despite their unorthodox situation, she remained devoted to Sartre until his death.
But it’s not all predilections and wanton sexuality. Many writers used their art as a means of working out the difficulties they could not in life. Tennessee Williams believed his writing was an absolute necessity, claiming “his craft was his way of coping with, and keeping in check, his vast emotional issues. According to Gore Vidal, the playwright ‘could not possess his own life until he had written about it.’” So much so that he devoted most of his memoir to his personal life instead of his professional one, stating, “I could devote this whole book to a discussion of the art of drama, but wouldn’t that be a bore?” Through his plays, he challenged his audiences to open their eyes to real issues like drugs, alcoholism, homosexuality, rape, sexuality in general, and mental illness. Virginia Woolf fans owe a great debt to her devoted husband, Leonard, who took tender care of his fragile wife, keeping her from “heeding the call of the river Ouse” as long as he could.
More often than not, the stormiest of relationships produced the best art. Just look at Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Flaubert, Mailer and the Beats. Competition between writers (Hemingway and Gellhorn, Fitzgerald and Zelda, Anais Nin and Henry Miller) often spurred on some of the greatest works of literature. In some instances, as in the case of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, this competition proved fatal. When his wife’s literary ambitions threatened his own, Scott did whatever he could to quash her attempts: “He became more enraged when he learned that Zelda had sent her novel to his editor, who wanted to publish it. Along with demanding that half the royalties be applied to debts he owed the publisher, Scott took a heavy hand in editing the story, including reworking the portrayal of the fictional husband (based on him) to make him more sympathetic.” One must never forget that often with great talent comes great ego.
Shannon McKenna Schmidt and Joni Rendon, authors of NOVEL DESTINATIONS: Literary Landmarks from Jane Austen’s Bath to Ernest Hemingway’s Key West, have more than succeeded in bestowing readers with a compulsively readable, juicy assemblage of scandalous true-life tales that sheds light on some of the great works of literature, and the behavior that inspired it. WRITERS BETWEEN THE COVERS is not just for English majors; it’s for anyone who loves the written word, those who create them, and those who want to know the hidden inspiration behind their favorite novels. (Isn’t that everyone?) It also makes a terrific gift for that hard-to-buy-for book lover on your holiday list, or an interesting change-of-pace selection for your book club, guaranteed to give you hours of scintillating discussion.
- Bronwyn Miller
See all 13 customer reviews...
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc PDF
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc EPub
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Doc
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc iBooks
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc rtf
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Mobipocket
Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Kindle
~ Download PDF Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Doc
~ Download PDF Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Doc
~ Download PDF Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Doc
~ Download PDF Writers Between the Covers: The Scandalous Romantic Lives of Legendary Literary Casanovas, Coquettes, and Cads, by Joni Rendon, Shannon Mc Doc
