The Great Gatsby

I started my journey into reading “something of substance” with The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  The Great American Novel.  One of the Best Books Ever Written.  Now, I’m not refuting these oft-used descriptions of Fitzgerald’s work, I just don’t think I get it.

My overwhelming sense of this book is desolation, desolation of the spirit, desolation of the landscape, all masked by the pretty façades that come with money.  The “valley of ashes” pervades everything.  I imagine the mansions and lawns of East and West Egg as shiny candy shells, easily crackable, painted over the top of ash.  It also represents the characters’ emptiness.  There are a number of people in this story (Daisy, Gatsby, Tom, Jordan, Myrtle) who have accumulated very few redeeming qualities between them.  Daisy is weak and vapid.  Her only redeeming moment is when she mows down the woman who is sleeping with her husband.  But she immediately loses any gained respect by going back to her unfaithful husband.  Tom is an unfaithful, ego-driven narcissist.  And Gatsby is so singularly-focused that he is delusional…and kind of pathetic.  He has no grasp on reality whatsoever.  This leaves us with Nick, our narrator.  Nick is just a normal guy who, when held up against the lack-of-character of the rest of the cast, comes across as an incredible man.  But really…he’s just a guy.

My favorite character in the entire book is Michaelis.  (Let me guess, you’ve read the book and have no idea who this is?)  Michaelis is the neighbor of George and Myrtle Wilson.  He also witnessed the accident.  It does not appear that he knows the Wilsons particularly well, but after Myrtle’s death, he stays with George through the first night.  He could have offered his condolences and gone home, easily slipping out amongst the chaos, but he stayed.  This is what a good person looks like.

I found it interesting that in re-reading The Great Gatsby (I read it 12 years ago in high school) the two things I remember most clearly from my first reading are really two fairly insignificant details: the green light on the end of Daisy Buchanan’s dock and the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg.  I’m sure these two elements carried the great weight of symbolism and were talked about in class.  I did not remember the plot save three points: Gatsby loved Daisy, Gatsby had a big house, and Gatsby threw big parties.

So, as I said to begin with, I just don’t think I get it.  This is the quintessential American novel of the “Jazz Age” (a term coined by Fitzgerald, I think).  It gives a brilliant snapshot of life within a particular time and place.  What confuses me is how other people perceive that snapshot.  They expound on the glamour of Gatsby’s parties and on Gatsby’s love for Daisy with romance and nostalgia.  My perception of the photograph is just sadness, emptiness…a green light over a black, empty expanse of water.