The Great Gatsby is one of those books that I feel like I should have read ages ago, or at the very least, I should have had been more familiar with the specifics of the story. Like, Hamlet or The Catcher in the Rye or the Bible or something. They get referenced so much in cultural conversation that, even if you've never read them page for page, you at least have a pretty good gist of what they are about.
Here are the things I knew going in:
-There is a guy named Gatsby and he is in love with Daisy
-There is some sort of class/wealth element that I was pretty unclear about
-Something about Gatsby being a self-made man
That's about it. I wasn't actually wrong about any of it, but the picture is pretty vague. After reading the book, though, I'm actually not surprised at how little I knew about the plot going in to it. The plot isn't really the point. This is one of those books that is about theme.
I know, right? Ugh. The Powers That Be could probably revoke my right to study English for saying this, but books about theme are pretty much the worst... Actually, that may be a little unfair. Let me rephrase: books that focus entirely on theme at the expense of a good plot and interesting characters are pretty much the worst. I just have no patience for them. They are boring.
The Great Gatsby is walking a pretty fine line, because it's plot is borderline ridiculous and almost every single character is a terrible person. If it were not for the narrator, who may or may not be named Nick, I cannot remember, reading this book would have been a terrible nightmare. Thankfully, I liked Nick (I am just going to keep calling him that because I am typing this while the internet is down and I already returned the book to the library) a lot. At the very beginning of the book he describes himself as someone who does not pass judgment on other people, and he sticks to that, which is admirable. If I had been hanging out with those people I would have been judging the hell out of them all the time, because they are shallow and uncaring and just generally awful.
I'm saying all of this stuff about unlikable characters like it is a flaw in Fitzgerald's writing, but it isn't. It's kind if the point of the book actually. Fitzgerald is trying to make a point about class and society and America and I guess he does a pretty good job of making it. It's just not a point I am particularly interested in. The book is so fundamentally American, and so concerned with a specific place and time, that I feel like it has nothing to do with me. I'm glad I read it--I liked Nick, there were certain passages that I thought were great, and it is one of the books that you kind of just have to read at some point--but I can't imagine wanting to revisit it any time soon.
Page count: 153
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