A long-held
wish came true last weekend. I went to the Hotel Belles Rives near Antibes on
the Côte d’Azur. We were staying with old friends nearby and this, to my delight, was where they had booked for dinner on Saturday evening.
For here is the villa that F Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda rented for the summer in
1926. They had enjoyed their time on the French Riviera the previous year with
wealthy American socialites Gerald and Sara Murphy and their bohemian circle that included Gertrude
Stein and Picasso, John Dos Passos, Dorothy Parker, and their mutual friend
Ernest Hemingway. So Scott and Zelda returned with their five-year-old
daughter Scottie to recapture the experience.
Ninety
years ago, the property on the edge of the shore at Juan-les-Pins was called
the Villa St. Louis, and was supposed to be a retreat from their frenetic life
in Paris, where Scott was trying to write a new novel after the publication –
to surprisingly indifferent sales – of The Great Gatsby, but constantly getting
sidetracked by friends like Ernest Hemingway and the bottle. Zelda, meanwhile, was
studying dance.
The heat and
light, the blue Mediterranean sea and scented umbrella pines, the lush, bright
flowers and balmy nights provided Fitzgerald with a sensuous backdrop for the
novel which would become Tender is the Night: the “diffused magic of the hot
sweet South … the soft-pawed night and the ghostly wash of the Mediterranean
far below”. Even today, when development has scarred the landscape he would
have seen, his descriptions are instantly recognisable.
Though the building has been extended, it is still owned by the same family who turned the Villa St. Louis into a hotel in 1929. The ambiance of the 1920s is carefully preserved and enhanced, and the entrance foyer (pictured below) leads straight out onto the fabled terrace above the sea.
As the sun set and the lights came on across the hills towards Cannes and on the yachts at anchor, a small green light began to blink at the end of a jetty on the shallow rocky shore. Could something similar have been here on Fitzgerald’s previous visits to the area and found its way into the book as the green light on the dock that Jay Gatsby makes a symbol of his longing for Daisy?
As we
sipped Bellinis overlooking the water, it was impossible not to be “borne
back ceaselessly into the past”. Fitzgerald’s writing is remarkable for its
sense of loss and nostalgia, even for the moment that has only just passed. It
occurred to me that the Portuguese word saudade, untranslatable in English,
comes closest to capturing the yearning sadness that infuses his most lyrical
passages, trying to hold fast to moments of fleeting beauty. All the more poignant when you think of Zelda's descent and the subject matter of Tender is the Night, a novel that would not be published until 1934 due to her illness and Scott's need to earn easier money in the interim to pay for her medical care.
For the
Fitzgeralds, the summer of 1926 on the Cap d’Antibes did not prove idyllic,
despite the setting. Zelda was close to the madness that would blight the rest
of her life. Scott made little progress on Tender is the Night and took refuge
in drink, as he always did. Neither could Zelda restrain herself. Their
increasingly reckless and erratic behaviour resulted in strained friendships
with the Murphys and others. One night Zelda threw herself headfirst down a
flight of stone steps because she was so incensed that the dancer Isadora
Duncan was flirting with Scott.
Sadly, the rented villa was the scene of vicious marital arguments. In adulthood, Scottie recalled her parents fighting bitterly and constantly. Zelda kept fully packed luggage in every room, threatening departure at the slightest grievance. The dream of a successful life together was coming to an end.
The story goes that one night husband and wife had been drinking hard, and – inevitably – fighting. Rising to Zelda’s taunts about his professional and personal failures, Fitzgerald stormed out. At a nearby restaurant in Juan-les-Pins where an orchestra was employed every evening to entertain the diners, he persuaded the musicians to come home with him, no doubt offering a ridiculous amount of money. He led them into the Villa St. Louis, ushered them into a room – and locked them in. He commanded them to play all night if they hoped to be released by dawn. Then he turned to Zelda and asked her if she still thought he was a loser.
In the present day, the music comes from the piano bar, a grand room with stunning décor that carefully evokes the 1920s and 30s. What looks like a painting by Braque on the left is actually a picture viewed through two separate windows. Through the window on the right, you can see the dining terrace.
We were a party of seven, and we had a wonderful evening. The food was gorgeous, mainly fish, and beautifully presented. The lemon soufflé for dessert was heavenly! I loved all the art deco details, and the way each corner is designed to evoke the atmosphere of the Jazz Age.
