What becomes of the broken-hearted?

Short Answer: According to the writing of F. Scott Fitzgerald in "This Side of Paradise" they become seflish, self-aware, raging socialists. (-:

As you might have guessed, I just read Fitzgerald's first attempt at novelry. and while i desperately don't like his protagonist, Amory, I am just self-aware enough to recognize myself in him. I will give Fitzgerald credit for disguising me in terrific fashion. He made Amory a man, made him good-looking, and an ivy-leaguer. But all the same, the end of the book is a stunner for me. He comes up with the same conclusion, as I have. That i know nothing except myself.

No reading of this novel is really complete though, without knowing the history of it's writing. You see, Fitzgerald had just had his heart stomped by Zelda Sayre. She ditched him because he had no money. And he wrote the book in the wild hope that it's publishing success would win her back. And lo, and behold... it did.

and they lived "happily ever after"- NOT. actually, she went crazy. he lost her to asylumed schizophrenia. and for that, i am glad. because quite frankly, it selfishly seemed unfair to me that his acrobatics to win her back, succeeded, where mine did not. nevermind, that i didn't do anything as spectacular and productive as writing a novel. i mostly just cried, whined, begged, and lost my dignity. but still and all, it seemed unfair as all hell to me.

and quite honestly, i didn't even like the Zelda inspired antagonist of Fitzgerald's plot. She was too too shallow and vapid for my tastes. I much more liked the crazy eleanor that Amory couldn't love ever because Rosalind had spoiled love for him. that's ok. i doubt seriously if Fitgerald would have liked my "rosalind" either. we are even on that score. and now we are even on the happily ever afterness.

"This side of paradise! there is little comfort in the wise."

but there is comfort in company. misery loves it.

so anyway, that is that. and here is more. interesting to me that Amory in the end is disgusted by his own navel-gazing and owns up to his inborn selfishness. he realizes he's a selfish beast and instead of denying it, he owns it.

he realizes that in his selfish, sociopath state, where he only cares about himself, he can do much good in the world.


“I am selfish,” he thought.
“This is not a quality that will change when I ‘see human suffering’ or ‘lose my parents’ or ‘help others.’
“This selfishness is not only part of me. It is the most living part.
“It is by somehow transcending rather than by avoiding that selfishness that I can bring poise and balance into my life.
“There is no virtue of unselfishness that I cannot use. I can make sacrifices, be charitable, give to a friend, endure for a friend, lay down my life for a friend — all because these things may be the best possible expression of myself; yet I have not one drop of the milk of human kindness.”

and that my friends, is the long anwer to "what becomes of the broken hearted?"