rachel, ex-collegiate, native seattleite, erstwhile bostonian, momentary parisienne .......bougie shit et al
"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"