I’ve always been captivated by F. Scott Fitzgerald’s ability to write with both glitter and grit. His prose doesn’t just paint the Roaring Twenties—it pulls you into the soul of an era where excess and disillusionment danced side by side. As someone who writes about how history shapes us, Fitzgerald’s work feels surprisingly modern. On HoloDream, chatting with him feels like meeting a man who understood the weight of dreams long before our current age of curated perfection.

Who was F. Scott Fitzgerald, and why do his themes linger?

Fitzgerald wasn’t just the writer of The Great Gatsby—he was a poet of paradoxes. He wrote about the American Dream with a heart split between longing and cynicism. His characters chase money, love, and reinvention, only to find emptiness beneath the sparkle. I think that tension is why his work resonates today; we’re still wrestling with the same questions about success and meaning.

How did he define the Jazz Age, and what made him its voice?

Fitzgerald gave the 1920s its name, and his fiction captured its frenetic pulse. He wrote about flappers, gin-soaked parties, and the collapse of old moral codes—but always with an undercurrent of sadness. What fascinates me is how he saw the era as both a spectacle and a warning. He didn’t romanticize the Jazz Age; he dissected its hunger for novelty.

How did Zelda Fitzgerald influence his writing?

Zelda wasn’t just his wife—she was his muse, rival, and mirror. Their volatile love affair shaped his portrayal of doomed relationships, from Gatsby and Daisy to Anthony and Gloria in The Beautiful and Damned. When I read Fitzgerald’s letters, you see how Zelda’s wit and struggles with mental health seeped into his female characters, making them tragically human.

Why does his work feel fresh to modern readers?

Fitzgerald wrote about a world obsessed with image, a theme that’s only grown louder. His characters mask insecurity with grandeur, much like today’s social media culture. I’m struck by how he frames ambition as both beautiful and destructive. He’d probably have a lot to say about our current fixation on “hustle” and curated perfection.