A year ago, I wrote on this blogsite about the 64th anniversary of one of my favorite books, To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s only one of my favorite books since I’ve read thousands of books in my lifetime, and I’ve taught about hundreds. Ask any of the 4,000+ students who sat in my American Literature classes, and they can tell you the novel I hate the most: Moby Dick. I believe this unequivocal response comes from the memories of too many college and graduate level classes where I was told to write essays about whale blubber. As for my favorite of all novels in the world, those former students would be hard-pressed to choose just one.
One hundred years ago on April 10, The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, made its debut, and I have loved that story since the first time I read it.
I’m not sure why I singled out this particular novel.
Perhaps it was its themes of hope, dreams, romantic love, celebration, or the
nostalgic past. Maybe it was its lyrical language that glides off the tongue
with such aching regret. It could be I considered its timelessness in a current
world that often resembles that of the Lost Generation.
Let’s go with my favorite multiple choice answer: (d) all of the above.
My high school students appreciated its short, 180+-page
length. Of course they did.
On April 10, 1925, Charles Scribner’s Sons published The
Great Gatsby. Fitzgerald was 28 years old, with no knowledge that he had only 12 more years to live. He was riding high on three publications about the
Jazz Age. Considered the generational voice of the twenty-somethings in the
1920s, Fitzgerald had accomplished fame with This Side of Paradise, The
Beautiful and the Damned, and his Tales of the Jazz Age. But Gatsby
sold a paltry 20,000 copies once Gatsby came out, and Fitzgerald’s star
was on the decline. By the time he died in 1944 at age 40, his book about
star-crossed lovers was all but forgotten. Then, the military released 150,000
copies to servicemen in WWII, his publisher and literary friends wrote of its
timeless themes, and Gatsby had a second coming. Today, it has sold over
3 million copies.
The Great Gatsby has been made into four films, including the 2013 movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and the 1974 film with Robert Redford. Earlier versions were filmed in 1926 and 1949. Cookbooks, a graphic novel, a musical play, an opera, and countless books about “the book” continue to keep the cultural icon alive. Recently, a one-hundredth anniversary edition was published, and I immediately ordered my copy. F. Scott Fitzgerald would have been amazed by all this.
I’m not going to repeat the plot for those of us who might
have slept through American Literature class. Suffice it to say that the themes
of lost hope, the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock, the wild parties
thrown in mansions on Long Island in hopes of seeing Daisy again, and the
philosophical ponderings of Nick Carraway are the stuff that high school essays
are made of. Believe me, I’ve read hundreds.
The beauty of the language and the lyrical descriptions
lend a romantic quality to the story of Gatsby’s dreams to relive the past and
regain the love of Daisy Buchanan. When it appears his dream might come true,
Fitzgerald waxes poetic in Nick Caraway’s description of Gatsby’s dream: “So he
waited, listening a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon
a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a
flower and the incarnation was complete.” (p. 117)
Lyrical passages like this lend a starry-eyed air to
possibilities.
If you didn’t sleep through American Literature class, you
know that this story does not end happily. And, true to the title of this blog,
murder is in the upcoming pages (drum roll).
The Great Gatsby is truly a timeless classic when you think about the world surrounding us today.
Fitzgerald wrote of immigrants, women, and people of color, wondering if they had any hope of sharing in the American Dream. His description of the dizzy, restless time between the wars has a familiar ring in the anxiety of this Information Age with its social media doom scrolling, disinformation, chaotic politics, and meaningless swirl of appearances that bear no resemblance to reality. In Gatsby’s world, the unempathetic rich, like Tom and Daisy Buchanan, “smashed up things and creatures and retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness…and let other people clean up the mess they had made…” (p. 188) It all sounds so familiar.
Yet love often endures, dreams can still be within our grasp,
and reinvention is available (especially in this age of mass media). Is it
possible that under all the gaudiness of the parties, booze, and glamor, perhaps something of substance can last?
Unlike Gatsby’s experience, our human longing would like to believe the green light we discover at the end of that boat dock never goes dark.
I, too, have a great respect for this book and wondered at its no acceptance. Teachers, you taught me something new—I never knew the book was distributed to the troops.
ReplyDeleteThat was something I just learned recently, too, Debra. Once the Depression hit, people didn't want to read about the rich, the parties, and the dreams. Gatsby's popularity only rose after WWII when there was a mighty rise of the middle class and everything seemed possible.
DeleteI also did not recall that book was distributed to the troops. It wasn't one Dad had in his library, although I do recall he had some from his army days.
ReplyDelete"When Books Went to War" is a nonfiction book about the 1300 different titles distributed to the troops during WWII. 122 million books were distributed between 1943 and 1947. I don't recall my own father saying anything about that either.
DeleteI recently reread this. I think it appealed to servicemen who were not inclined to read until they were thoroughly bored (I think we all know the military cliche "Hurry up and wait") and wanted distraction from the terrible reality in which they found themselves made this a good title for the book distribution.
ReplyDeleteThe same phenomenon of "non-readers" who turn into readers is evident in our prisons when the inmates have access to a library.
So true, Kathleen.
DeleteTerrific post, Susan. When I saw the movie with Robert Redford and then later read the book, I was at an age when the ending really distressed me. I’ll have to read it again to see what I glean from it now.
ReplyDeleteWell, it's not exactly a happy ending. This might help: when I went to see the Leo DiCaprio movie, I'd just sent in the manuscript for my first mystery to a publisher two weeks earlier. During the movie my screen lit up and it was an email from that publisher. I rushed down the stairs to the lobby to read it, and I was so excited because they were going to publish my book. I'll always remember that in connection with that more Gatsby movie.
DeleteWhat a terrific experience and memory.
DeleteThank you for the post. I love the book too!
ReplyDeleteYou are so welcome. I always love talking about Jay Gatsby.
DeleteLovely, Susan. GATSBY is one of my favorite books. All of Fitzgerald’s books rank up there in my opinion.
ReplyDeleteI so agree, Kait!
DeleteIt's so interesting when we realize the classics were not widely appreciated in their own time. Wonderful blog, Susan. Thanks for reminding me of a book I haven't read in a long while. Time to remedy that.
ReplyDeleteSome years ago I found myself rereading THE GREAT GATSBY because in the mystery I was writing my sleuth, a high school English teacher, was discussing it with her students. I remember being struck by how perfectly the novel had been constructed—the cause and effect of each incident leading to the only possible conclusion.
ReplyDeleteYou are so right, Marilyn. The structure of that plot is amazing.
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