Fitzgerald, F. Scott

Autograph letter signed ("Scott"), 1 page (13 x 8 1/2 in; 330 x 215 mm), n.p., n.d.  [Switzerland, probably 1930], to Gilbert Seldes; in brown ink on beige paper, a few tiny edge tears, some minor marginal wrinkling.

Not in the M. J. Bruccoli or A. Turnbull edition of  Fitzgerald letters and apparently unpublished.

Autograph letter signed ("Scott"), 1 page (13 x 8 1/2 in; 330 x 215 mm), n.p., n.d. [Switzerland, probably 1930], to Gilbert Seldes; in brown ink on beige paper, a few tiny edge tears, some minor marginal wrinkling.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.

"Zelda ... had a narrow escape from permanent neuresthenia or worse."  Zelda, suffering from a nervous breakdown, entered the Pragins clinic near Geneva in June 1930 where she was diagnosed as schizophrenic.  She was discharged in September 1931 and the Fitzgeralds returned to America permanently. Fitzgerald writes: "The check that fell out of my mail this morning had a moral value to me as I was in a sort of 'Blow winter wind' humor — not that there was any inequality of gratitude due between you and me, but there was the fact that in your prosperity you had thought of me — just emerging in company with Zelda from the biggest muddle we ever got into. Anyhow — acknowledgements, and for the spiritual timeliness, thanks ... Zelda is so near well that it's now a question of a few weeks — but she had a damn narrow escape from permanent neurasthenia or worse. We have no plans. I am here in Switzerland near her. I want to see you very much — I never received a copy of your novel [probably The Wings of the Eagle, 1929] and could not get it at Brentano's ... think well of Your Affectionate Old Friend ..."