literature: Rags Martin-Jones and the Pr-nce of W-les by F. Scott Fitzgerald

where it works:

Fitgerald is a genius. He writes with a truly unique originality. His descriptions, while never carrying one away on a wave of sympathetic emotion, keep the reader returning to learn the end of each story, and then the beginning of a new one. In Absolution, he compares a boy's eyes to a musical quality -- "enormous, staccato eyes, lit with gleaming points of cobalt light." In Dice, Brassknuckles and Guitar, the twilight throws "unbearable shadows," and a man includes "the whole North in the splendor of his obeisance."
Rags Martin-Jones and the Pr-nce of W-les does not deviate from Fitzgerald's typical excellence. The characters stand as individuals rather than stereotypes. The hero is satisfyingly complex and simultaneously startlingly straightforward. The heroine, carelessly childish and plagued with self-imposed ennui, takes no pains to hide the ridiculous aspects of her nature, and yet endears the reader the first time she drops her monocle. The plot at first plods at a pleasant, mulish elegance, then bursts into a sudden, somersaulting twist. It's like a swashbuckling cowboy romance -- only much more refined.

where it doesn't:

Fitzgerald is a genius. His writings will either inspire creativity or else reiterate the lack thereof. Also, Rags, in keeping with the tone of its sister story, The Offshore Pirate, contains a large element of the fantastical, which may annoy the more practical reader, who will question the feasibility of the schemes effectuated.

the mix:

Fitzgerald is a genius. His novel The Great Gatsby is written so vividly as to seem almost a recollection of the reader's, rather than a fictionalized reprise of the flapper era. Reading his short stories is like eating Belgian chocolates with fresh-brewed coffee. Granted, some have the deeper tenor of an espresso, but Rags is a light and pleasant read, like a latte. With whipped cream.

grade: A+