Chez Scott

Scott Fitzgerald invited us to have lunch with his wife Zeld and his little daughter at the furnished flat they had rented at 14 rue du Tilsett. I cannot remember much about the flat except that it was gloomy and airless and that there was nothing in it that seemed to belong to them except Sott's first books bound in light blue leather with the titles in gold. Scott also showed us a large ledger with all of the stories he had published listed in it year after year, with the prices he had received for them and also the amounts for any motion picture sales, and the sales and royalties of his books. They were all noted as carefully as the log of a ship and Scott showed them to us with impersonal pride as though he were the curator of a museum. Scott was nervous and hospitable and he showed us his accounts of his earnings as though they had been the view. There was no view.

 

~A Moveable Feast, by Ernest Hemingway

Done