Book Nook: Review of "Save Me the Waltz," by Zelda Fitzgerald

The preface of this book called it a "literary curio." F. Scott Fitzgerald was known for his writing, but fewer know that his wife, Zelda, also published pieces (often under her husband's name) in order to keep the party lifestyle going. It wasn't until after her mental breakdown that she began writing the semi autobiographical novel, Save Me The Waltz.

Heavily edited by F. Scott, the story follows Alabama Beggs and David Knight, pale copies of the Fitzgeralds themselves. David is a painter and Alabama is a southern belle cum ballerina, but both are so severely disconnected from their family, from their friends, and from each other that they sort of drift through the world without any regard for others. Even their own daughter gets sort of shuttled around, more raised by nannies than either of her parents. 

What I liked about this book is how sharp and witty Zelda is, not all of it can be F. Scott, so Zelda's voice is really heard. I think the characters that she creates are an oxymoronic combination of naive and worldly and can only see how far they've fallen when they have passed the point of no return. My favorite line in the book comes near the end, "I just lump everything in a great heap which I have labelled 'the past,' and, having thus emptied this deep reservoir that was once myself, I am ready to continue." I'm not entirely sure how Zelda meant it, but it resonates with me. You are either forced to reside in the past, worrying about every possible mistake, or you can choose to leave it behind. For Alabama, there was only so much worrying she could handle before she just had to dump the past out. I want to think of this as a strong statement from a woman in the 1920s, but I have the feeling it is meant more as a coping mechanism to deal with the unhappiness in her marriage, her ballet career, and as a mother. When things get tough, rather than trying to fix her problems she just leaves them behind for someone else to deal with. 

Zelda was diagnosed with schizophrenia in the 1930s, but probably suffered more from bipolar than any actual fracturing of her personality. Yet, sometimes this novel breaks off into bizarre passages that seem to have no connection to the rest of the story, or even reality. It shows how out of touch Zelda and Alabama became while forcing themselves to follow their passion for dance. Were these visions her memory of her life or are they just the absurd placed into the narrative to emphasize the super consumerism of the lost generation?

I did not know that this book existed until I read Z by Therese Fowler, and I am very glad that I added this little know gem to my reading list. The same preface that called this novel a curio also said that it was an excellent piece to be read *after* reading Tender Is The Night. I do not agree. I think this piece has the ability to stand on its own and does not need to be read with or following her husband's novels. It is a shame that even after her death, Zelda is nothing but a footnote or accessory to the great writer, when she had the capability to stand out for her own talents.