rachel, ex-collegiate, native seattleite, erstwhile bostonian, momentary parisienne .......bougie shit et al
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"In the 1920s, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald careered through New York City and Great Neck, Paris and the South of France, leaving in their wake a trail of splintered Champagne glasses and glittering bons mots. Their tragic, slow-motion falls — she to madness and a series of mental institutions, he to alcohol and an indifferent public — seemed inevitable, and drawn from the pages of one of his novels. She was reckless to the point of oddity; he always drank like a professional, collapsing the arc from charming to churlish early on. But theirs was surely one of the most fascinating literary and romantic partnerships, symbiotic to the point of cannibalism"
