I was about to pass this book up in order to buy The Great Gatsby, but someone reccomended me to read this one first before I got to read the other books by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I have to say it was a excellent introduction to the author; I've also been told that this book is one of Fitzgerald's less accomplished works, and I did find it a bit lacking on something, I don't know what, but I enjoyed it anyway. Amory Blaine, although richly described, is not a particularly likable character, but he is certainly bright and his capacity for self analysis is amazing, though his little why-is-everyone-but-me-an-idiot attitude can grate in your nerves sometimes. Oh well, I guess that can be forgiven, considering his age; I also believe (sometimes) that at my ripe old age of nineteen I already know all I'll ever need to know about pretty much everything. Speaking of which, I loved that line, "I know myself, but that is all", I think it about sums up the whole story. I can't wait to get my hands on the next book by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

This Side of Paradise is a truly classic work. Be warned though, having read The Great Gatsby as well, these are different books. Not better or worse, just different. As a member of the incoming Freshman class at Princeton, I read the book before starting. I will easily admit to not liking the first half of the book. However, the 2nd half is an, albeit depressing (until the last few pages), wonderfully written work about the lost soul of the youth (grr. . .I'm 18 and using the word youth) of the 1920s. The last 10 pages are offer an unparalleled view into the soul of a truly remarkable character. I didn't personally like Amory (for a variety of reasons), ie, I wouldn't want him to be my best friend, but he was an amazing character study (pardon the term). Learning about him through Fitzgerald was a fabulous experience. This book is definitely worth reading.

Written when F. Scott was a mere 23 years of age, This Side of Paradise elevates itself as a seminal and ground-breaking semi-autobiographical novel that inexplicably remains vastly underappreciated as of today. Amory Blaine manifests himself as a veritable study of egotism, romanticism, idealism, and intense disillusionment. Amory proves to be an endearing and highly affable young protagonist. The prep school and Princeton years of supercilious and pretentious egotist hedonism abound immensely in energy, innocence, and vitality.

Through the despair of his failed love with Rosalind et al, his disenchantment with his advertsing job, and the inseparable gloom and despair of WWI, Amory enters into a reproachful state of disillusionment and cynicism subsequent to "The Great War". Fitzgerald, the acclaimed golden boy of his aptly named Jazz Age, emodies in Amory "a new generation grown up to find all Gods dead, all wars fought, all faiths in man shaken."

Amory undergoes a catharsis of sorts in purging his tragic loss of innocence due to the war with his heavy drinking and nihilistic behavior. Nonetheless, he regains a semblance of his former confidence and intensity at the conclusion of the book, "yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul." Is Amory the same romantic egotist that we witnessed at the onset of this powerful work? Not by any stretch of the imagination. However, through his despondent adversity, his intellectualism survives as well as his somewhat frayed, yet repaired sense of hopeful idealisism for the future - whatever it may bring. A strikingly similar ending to Hemingway's later masterpiece The Sun Also Rises, n'est-ce pas?

There's a factual mistake on nearly every page of this book. Dardis is obsessed with Keaton's drinking, spending some 80 pages of the book on this subject, while cutting the last 25 years of Keaton's life to a mere 20 pages.
In short, this Dardis book is uniformed, inaccurate, unbalanced, and unhinged. However, despite all this, the Dardis bio is still somethat superior on the Marion Meade book, which is even worse. A solid Keaton bio has yet to be written.

Don't bother to read this book. It overlooks Buster's artistry, and is strangely obsessed with the finances of each film. A much better book on Keaton is the one by Rudi Blesh, which is unfortunately unavailable now.

I am an unabashed fan of Buster Keaton, believing his to be the pinnacle of physical humor on film in the 20th century. This book balanced the many aspects of a complicated and brilliant man who spent only one day in a schoolroom. The final section is written very sensitively, and has some great photos.