- All My Jellies, and: Old Poets
All My Jellies
I’m riding shotgun as we tool around Memphis in Tad Pierson’s ‘55 Cadillac, looking for the house where Johnny Cash livedbefore he hit the big time, and people are shouting, “What year’s that?” and “That thing is clean!” and sometimes just “All right!”
and “Right there, right there!” and I think, Funny, nobody yells stuff like that when I’m in my 2006 Prius. What’s the dealwith old cars? Or any car, really. Dorsey Dixon wrote “Wreck on the Highway” in 1937, five years after Ford
came out with a V-8 engine and more people began to die all over the nation. More power, more uncertainty;more uncertainty, more art. You can cheat somebody with a car: Sam Phillips promised a brand-new Cadillac
to the first Sun Records artist to write a hit song, which Carl Perkins did with “Blue Suede Shoes,” thoughthe car was bought out of Carl’s royalties. Before Zelda Fitzgerald married, she rode around in the backseats
of convertibles, and when she passed a group of boys, known as “jelly beans,” she’d laugh, stretch her arms wide,and cry, “All my jellies!” She made a king of Scott, at least for a while: together they put flesh on the spirit
of the era he would call the Jazz Age. And then it all went wrong. What happened? All we know is that Scottwrote in a notebook, “I knew something had happened that could never be repaired.” It was as though, having [End Page 232]
eaten from every tree in the garden, they turned to the one that was forbidden to them, and when they ate of it,they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid themselves from
the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden, and the Lord God called to the man and said to him,Where are you? and the man said, I heard your voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked,
so I hid myself, and the Lord God said, Who told you you were naked? In Paris, the Fitzgeralds meet Picasso,Cole Porter, Fernand Léger, John Dos Passos, Hemingway, though when Scott kneels at Isadora Duncan’s feet in
a restaurant near Saint-Paul-de-Vence and she runs her fingers through his hair, Zelda throws herself down a stairwell;later, she collects jewelry from guests at a party and dumps it into a pot of boiling water “to make soup,” tosses her
clothes into a bathtub and sets fire to them, buys a gigantic gilt mirror, has a barre installed in front of it, and practicesten hours a day, seven days a week to “The Parade of the Wooden Soldiers,” which Scott says later is engraved
on every organ of his body. It was as though the Lord God said to him, I will put enmity between you and the woman,and to her, I will multiply your sorrow, and to them both, Cursed is the ground, thorns also and thistles shall it bring
forth, and in the sweat of your face shall you eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken,for you are dust, and to dust shall you return. Where did Adam and Eve go when God drove them out of the garden? [End Page 233]
Genesis tells us only that they were farmers, so you have to imagine a little town with one stoplight, a store or two,and what else: Camels? Arabs? Were there even Arabs then? Maybe a policeman in a cart pulled by a mule;
he’d go from hut to hut to make sure everybody was okay, pull somebody in if they coveted somebody else’s wifeor livestock or simply drank too much wine or beer, since hard liquor wouldn’t come along for centuries.
Scott Fitzgerald dies at forty-four; he’d given up drinking a year earlier but collapses while eating a Hershey bar.Zelda outlives...