The lives and loves and desiccated dramas of the upper class, it’s what Mr Fitzgerald seems to know. He knows it so well that the characters in his stories are actually humanised despite their opulence and shallow values. In that world of material extravagance he tracks the path of love and heart break and heart ache and joy. It’s sometimes a sad scene but it is quite entertaining. I’m not typically one to enjoy the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Particularly those that gravitate around the hell hole Hollywood (for the record I have not been there, but if you think I should feel free to help buy me a ticket).
Not all of these stories take place in Hollywood and not all of them were written around the same time. My favourite was probably the opener about the kid at the upper class school who doesn’t get along with anyone but sticks it out and helps his drunk teacher. But often before the somewhat happy ending I felt pangs of that fear that grabs a hold of you when you’re young and you’re faced with an alien and hostile environment. Changing schools can be difficult for the strongest little humans but for an educated ape it can be even tricker. So that one hit home for me. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is at least one story in the lot that would hit home for at least one person out of 100.
The title narrative (The Lost Decade) was also quite fun. A man reappears in polite society after a double digit hiatus to who knows where. He’s taken for a walk around what was a familiar neighbourhood when he was last there, which was when the Empire State Building was still being built. The architecture of the famous city plays a major part in the story as we find out that the man was an architect himself. This fact is laid at our feet much like the characters, as they stand on the street looking across at the material fact of his occupation: a building he had designed. But when asked if he’d like to go inside the man declines. It’s a tale surrounded in mystery and the setting and prose put into it a life of its own.
At around 120 pages this little book is no tough task to get through but depending on the depth of your heart and your mind you might find that it’s rather large in spirit. One theme that also presents itself throughout the different narratives is the battle with booze. There’s the drunk teacher I mentioned earlier, but there are far more instances of drunken tomfoolery from other characters throughout the other stories. Even that man that disappeared, it seems he was drunk – for a decade. I guess that most basic of writing advice rings true for the greatest too: write about what you know.
The works are good and perhaps the man could have produced more and better if he were not in a constant battle with the bottle himself. But what we have is quite fine. It’s a more than fair contribution to the world’s culture for one fella to make. I enjoyed the writing more than I enjoyed the subject matter. I can see why Hemingway and Fitzgerald may have gotten along.
