I've spent the past couple of months reading the majority of Fitzgerald's early short stories, as published in the Library of America editions. They're fine, they're witty and sometimes slightly moving ("The Lees of Happiness").
RE the novels: The debut (This Side) is a smart young man showing off, with nothing at all to say except spouting text in reaction to his current circumstances and beliefs. I'm only about a third of the way thru "Beautiful and Damned," and so far it's kind of the same: A young man very similar to the protagonist of "This Side" is now in love and attempting to define his beloved via his stilted societal opinions of what's "clean" or not. Perhaps "Damned" will improve before its end, but right now, it's a tedious trek through what's supposed to be "cool" with the 1920 hipsters (or whatever they or "cool" were called then). Fitzgerald is, of course, an astute observer of social scenes. Yeah, and so am I. At this point, during his second novel, I'm beginning to see why Zelda (the subject of this second novel) is so annoyed by his constant analyzing of her. The character based on her at one point actually says that she despises intellectual boys who try to analyze her. Which is exactly what Fitzgerald was---an intellectual boy trying to analyze. Aside from Zelda's protests, there are other protests on record from friends objecting to Fitzgerald's trying to analyze them in the middle of a good time...
Another feature of both novels: Fitzgerald is disgusted whenever his rich-boy character has to take the subway or otherwise be among the "common working people." He goes on about it: They smell disgusting, they look disgusting, their inner lives must be disgusting; the women are particularly disgusting---once married, they must all be fat and harridans, keeping their men from achieving anything. You kind of forget this nastiness while reading Fitzgerald, because he writes so well in between. But, in truth: Note the sense of "Evil" that his protagonist experiences in "This Side." A weird episode that goes on for several pages after Amory Blaine has merely gone with a friend to a girl's apartment and had some drinks. He suddenly starts hallucinating that The Devil Himself is among them, then that The Devil is chasing him through alleys. And when The Devil reveals himself, it's the face of a recently dead friend... It's a goose-bump-raising episode in the book, and one that impressed me upon reading...Amory is clearly having a psychotic break, and I was impressed with this honesty of the first-time author and curious to see what would happen... But when, by the second book, the same "sense of evil" (sex) keeps being named, it becomes a bit stupid and ridiculous.


