At some point, Fitzgerald settled in Towson, Maryland (the years 1932 and 1933, to be precise) to rent a house called "La Paix." At some point a couple of decades later, my folks were fun-loving college kids, and the house was being torn down. They made off with the pull-handle from his water-closet, and my father subsequently enshrined it in this ornate little inlaid-mother-of-pearl frame. It hung in our home as long as I can remember growing up, and hangs there still, beneath a venerable coating of dust. It struck me as funny at age 7 as it still does decades later. Because at some point - more likely on several hundred occasions - F. Scott Fitzgerald got up from the crapper like everyone else, and gave this thing a yank - and then unlike the rest of us resumed writing "Tender is the Night."
Actually my friend Stew the nun took us to LaPaix, when we weren't all that old but already married, and in addition to the water closet pull, we made off with a couple of bricks and a piece of a broken limestone fountain that bore the legend: WHOSO DRINKETH OF THIS WATER... Now, why, given Fitzgerald's history *and* his time at LaPaix (he was drunk, Zelda was going crazy; she'd had this affair with Jovan that was going right straight into the novel; a lot of shit went down)... Why, oh why did we known Fitzgerald freaks pick up the half that said OF THIS WATER??
Posted by: RedWriter at September 10, 2004 06:07 AM