Stewart O'Nan's novel chronicles F. Scott Fitzgerald's last years, as he attempts to reclaim his fame and repay his creditors by working as a screenwriter in Hollywood. Out of options, he is grateful for a job that lets him make headway on his bills, among them Scottie's tuition and Zelda's institutionalization fees. In many ways, West of Sunset is the perfect complement to Call Me Zelda, the novel which tells of Zelda's last, lost years in an Asheville asylum.
Beautifully written, it does begin rather slowly, but the deeper the reader falls into the story, the clearer it becomes: O'Nan has captured the essence of Fitzgerald. The man is far removed from the heady days of the Roaring Twenties. No longer on the make, this Fitzgerald is old beyond his years, run down by alcoholism (his own) and madness (his wife's). He is desperate and, often, destitute, torn between the past and the present, obsessed with his failures and resolving to be better. In that sense, he is perfectly human, and brilliantly crafted by O'Nan.
Having made his career out of the ashes of World War I, it seems fitting that the end came just as World War II was heating up. Fitzgerald appears in these pages as the ultimate arbiter of the interwar years.
West of Sunset is a highly readable work of historical fiction, particularly for those who are familiar with F. Scott and Zelda. Four stars.
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