On September 15, 2026, almost exactly a century after F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald spent a season on the French Riviera, I ordered a Great Gatsby at the bar of their former home. It seemed the appropriate thing to do. The cocktail arrived in a large glass beaded with condensation, pale gold and effervescent, crowded …
Continue reading A Rich Life: F. Scott Fitzgerald, the French Riviera, and the Things that Matter
Spinster. Cat lady. Old maid. The holy trinity of feminine failure, or so the culture once whispered. These words floated somewhere in my unconscious on the eve of my fifty-fifth birthday, like ghosts from another century still rattling their teacups. I was in the Lake District for the Romantics, not romance. For William Wordsworth, poet …
The grandfather clock in the entryway of James Herriot’s home kept time. Tick, tick, tick - as if nothing had changed. The sound filled the narrow hall, brushing against the faint smell of wool coats and polish. Light from a small window pooled on the patterned floor tiles, catching a thread of red from the …
