I had a counterpoint flash, “F. Scott, Remember Me,” go up this morning at Jellyfish Review. The fortunes of artists as seen by counterpointing Fitzgerald with the Passion. Thanks to Chris James, and Randall Brown.
I also recommend to anyone interested in this story two things: 1. Read the biography of Fitzgerald’s editor, Max Perkins: Editor of Genius by Scott Berg, and 2. Do what you can, no matter your faith, so see a performance of the Passionsspiele. Next performance 2020, or 2030, etc. It’s really beautiful, very human and moving.
F. Scott, Remember Me
The Thirty Years War began in 1618, shortly after Protestants defenestrated two Catholic Regents and a secretary. They survived the 70-foot plunge from a window by divine intervention, although Protestants, horribly plagued by the Holy Roman Empire, said a soft landing in a dung heap was more factual. Soon, hooks suspended heads, tainted blood poisoned wine, catapults flung rotten corpses. A Black Death, riddled with fleas, rose like a red welt on Germany.
Scott Fitzgerald was born in St. Paul, Minnesota in September 1896. His father was from Rockville, Maryland; his mother was daughter of Irish immigrants. Both were Catholic. It’s hard to say what latched onto and killed their son, what leapt from the window of his soul, but history indicates he was plagued by aspirations for high-living, an unstable woman, and too much gin.
Oberammergau posted sentries, to repulse Protestants and disease…
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