The Last Tycoon

The Last Tycoon (1941) F. Scott Fitzgerald's last novel, about a Hollywood producer, was unfinished at the time of his death. It always seems tragic that there is a book, or other work, unfinished at the time of he author's death, but on the other hand, isn't it more tragic that a person is not working on something at the time of their death? I guess it depends on the person, their relationship to their work, maybe their age (Fitzgerald was on 44). The writing in this book feels like that of a young, vibrant person, for sure, and also very contemporary and immediate—though at the same time, kind of cold—not totally letting me in the door—maybe that's because I knew it was unfinished? There are cultural references that date it, of course, but the feeling of the writing is that of right now. I have no idea why that is (just good writing?) but it's worth trying to figure out. This makes me think I should read The Great Gatsby again. I read so many books over, which I love doing (did someone say “reading is rereading?”) but still, there is so much I haven't read, I feel kind of weird about it. Some people never read a book twice, and some people read some books over and over throughout their life. I can't remember when it was I read Gatsby, but it was long ago, and I need to read it again.