Brett’s frequent sexual affairs have clearly not filled
the emotional void in her life, a void created, perhaps, by the
death of her “true love” during the war. She wanders aimlessly from
man to man, just as she wanders from bar to bar. She idealizes the
relationship she “would have had” with Jake. For her, Jake represents
the unattainable thing that would fulfill her. Hence, she too is
a victim of the Lost Generation’s inescapable dissatisfaction with
life.
Although Brett insists to Jake that the count is “one
of us,” the count actually serves as a foil for Jake’s crowd of
restless, dissatisfied, pleasure-seeking friends. He is older and
more experienced than they are, and, unlike them, he is confident
in his masculinity. Most important, although he has taken part in
seven wars and four revolutions, he does not seem to suffer from
the empty cynicism that afflicts Jake and his friends. Indeed, more
than any other character in the novel, he seems to take genuine
pleasure in life. He makes an effort to appreciate the enjoyment
that life offers. He urges Brett to drink the champagne slowly,
to enjoy it instead of gulping it down. He believes in love, but
not in Cohn’s excessively romantic, unrealistic brand of love. Thus,
love and alcohol, which are so troublesome for Jake and his friends,
are sources of satisfaction for Count Mippipopolous. Learning the
value of things for him means understanding and delighting in what
is truly valuable.
