f. scott fitzgerald
to
october, 1925
dear marya,
thank you for me about gatsby—i especially appreciate your letter because ent enerally cared much for it. they do not like ists call “practicality” —like the french, they are centime?savers in the business of magic. (you see i am a schopenhauerian, not a shavian. )
you are thrilled by nereatest promise is that something is going to happen, and after a et tired of because nothing happens to people except that they gro happens to american art because america is the story of the moon that never rose. nor does the “minute itself” ever come to life either, the minute not of unrest and hope but of a glo peace — such as ht on gerald and sara's garden and you said you s in america nificent, cynical disillusion s like their parties.
(they ether.)
my nenize certain things and people in it.
the young people in america are brilliant eneration s out for themselves. they are brave, shallo river of america”! my god, marya, to see anything but their olass? america is so decadent that its brilliant children are damned almost before they are born. can you name a single american artist except james and land) to be unable to endure or tolerate things as they are, to shut your eyes or to distort and lie — then you're fight, marya mannes, and no one has ever so misinterpreted the flowers of civilization, the greek or gallic idea, as
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