Bernice Bobs Her Hair

By F. Scott Fitzgerald

A witty short story about popularity and revenge, 'Bernice Bobs Her Hair' is about a mixed-race girl with Native American heritage, trying to fit in with those around her. Like a mix between 'Gossip Girl' and 'The Great Gatsby', the story shows the benefits and downfalls of rising up the social ladder. Written by Scott F. Fitzgerald, the great mind behind 'The Great Gatsby'. 'Bernice Bobs Her Hair' is a coming-of-age tale set amid the roaring twenties. -

• Language: English
• Publisher: SAGA Egmont
• Release date: Jun 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9788726596335

F. Scott Fitzgerald

F. Scott Fitzgerald was born in Saint Paul, Minnesota, in 1896, attended Princeton University in 1913, and published his first novel, This Side of Paradise, in 1920. That same year he married Zelda Sayre, and he quickly became a central figure in the American expatriate circle in Paris that included Gertrude Stein and Ernest Hemingway. He died of a heart attack in 1940 at the age of forty-four.

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F. Scott Fitzgerald

Bernice Bobs Her Hair

SAGA Egmont

Bernice Bobs Her Hair

The characters and use of language in the work do not express the views of the publisher. The work is published as a historical document that describes its contemporary human perception.

Cover image: Shutterstock and JJ Jordan on Unsplash

Copyright © 1920, 2022 SAGA Egmont

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ISBN: 9788726596335

1st ebook edition

Format: EPUB 3.0

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This work is republished as a historical document. It contains contemporary use of language.

www.sagaegmont.com

Saga is a subsidiary of Egmont. Egmont is Denmark’s largest media company and fully owned by the Egmont Foundation, which donates almost 13,4 million euros annually to children in difficult circumstances.

After dark on Saturday night one could stand on the first tee of the golf-coupe and see the country-club windows as a yellow expanse over a very black and wavy ocean. The waves of this ocean, so to speak, were the heads of many curious eddies, a few of the more ingenious chauffeurs, the golf professional's deaf sister—and there were usually several stray, diffident waves who might have rolled inside had they so desired. This was the gallery.

The balcony was inside. It consisted of the circle of wicker chairs that lined the wall of the combination clubroom and ballroom. At these Saturday-night dances it was largely feminine; a great babel of middle-aged ladies with sharp eyes and icy hearts behind lorgnettes and large bosoms. The main function of the balcony was critical, it occasionally showed grudging admiration, but never approval, for it is well known among ladies over thirty-five that when the younger set dance in the summer-time it is with the very worst intentions in the world, and if they are not bombarded with stony eyes stray couples will dance weird barbaric interludes in the corners, and the more popular, more dangerous, girls will sometimes be kissed in the parked limousines of unsuspecting dowagers.

But, after all, this critical circle is not close enough to the stage to see the actors' faces and catch the subtler byplay. It can only frown and lean, ask questions and make satisfactory deductions from its set of postulates, such as the one which states that every young man with a large income leads the life of a hunted partridge. It never really appreciates the drama of