I'm attempting to re-read some of the classics, but I'm discovering that I'm finding them somewhat different than when I read them last, which was usually in high school or the early years of my undergraduate program. I can't remember exactly when it was I first read this one, but it makes more sense now, even if it's not one of my favorites. It's seemingly come into fashion, so to speak, in recent years, largely due to the much-panned Leo DiCaprio movie (2013), which I didn't see. The novel, written in 1925, is certainly a product of its time. It's set in Long Island in the summer of 1922, nearly a hundred years ago, but some things, it seems, don't change all that much.
In general, the novel can be read in many ways; perhaps that's the genius of many of the books written by the Lost Generation, youth whose experiences were forged in the fire of travesty, most having been subjected to the unparalleled brutality of the Great War and the associated trauma from which many never recovered-Fitzgerald may have been one of them. The premise is the story of a mysterious nouveau riche, "Jay Gatsby," a man seemingly a product of his own creation, whose longtime obsession with a married flapper he had met and briefly "loved" five years prior proves his ultimate downfall. I won't rehash the plotline here, but will instead focus on the major themes, as I see them. Primarily, I think the novel is a critique of the so-called Jazz Age's decadence and its lurid, wild abandon which was as distinct and radical a break with the traditions of the past as were the 1960s from generations before. It's also a cautionary tale, specifically that change too much and too quickly leads to tragedy.
The book also attempts to illustrate the emptiness of a vacuous life filled with endless parties and hedonism, in that that despite his great wealth, charm and one-time popularity, the narrator, Nick, has difficulty in finding a single associate or "friend" who is even willing to come to the title character's funeral. The novel also seems to serve as a condemnation of the casual sex culture which likewise emerged from the war, when it seemed that both the men and women of that generation simply threw caution to the wind, and engaged in whatever distractions diverted their attention, and sorrow, elsewhere, however self-destructive and fleeting. Men lost comrades, friends and relatives, and women lost husbands, brothers and sweethearts: after, they seemingly attempted to find something in each other, but, as often occurs in the wake of trauma, not in a healthy way. Instead of relying on solid social support, they instead turned to alcohol-fueled, orgiastic explosions of wild excess and reckless expenditure, so adroitly captured in the pages of Fitzgerald's magnum opus.
In a related vein, the novel also speaks to a similar theme of the era, that of futility: despite all his money and pretense at being someone important, Gatsby is concealing his common background from his ostensible social superiors, by pretending to be an "Oxford man" - although he never specifically refers to himself as such, he's fine with others referring to him that way. All the bed-hopping likewise comes to nothing, with women dying or remaining trapped in loveless (and sometimes abusive) marriages and relationships, enjoying a respite only for a short time in the arms of another, which, in all cases, ends badly, sometimes in tragedy and death. A real-world event, the Halls-Mills murder, the double-murder of an Episcopal priest and his church-choir lover (possibly committed by his wife and her brothers, although all were eventually acquitted), which was endlessly sensationalized in the tabloids of the day, served as an inspiration for the plot of the novel.
It's also an instructive exercise to track the events of Fitzgerald's own life with those of the characters in his novels: he, too, was a young Midwesterner who was educated at an Ivy League university, and fell in love with a rich socialite whose family rejected him on account of his lower-class background. Fitzgerald himself saw the reality of modern warfare when he joined the army; while enlisted, he met Southern belle Zelda Sayre at a country club in Alabama, whose parents likewise forbid a relationship until he could prove his financial stability. The (mis)adventures of the Fitzgeralds' relationship provide sufficient material for a novel all their own, and also probably influenced the novel. Financial difficulties plagued the couple, as did Zelda's schizophrenia diagnosis, which she seemingly developed in 1930, and for which she was first hospitalized in Baltimore in 1932. Her rather meteoric temperament remained a challenge for the rest of her life.
Not surprisingly, in the wake of his time spent in the war and faced with the vicissitudes of a writing career and the responsibilities of caring for an ailing wife, Fitzgerald became a raging alcoholic, but had been since his college days. His drinking accelerated in the 1920s when he became well-known for his inordinately frequent intoxication. He may have been afflicted with tuberculosis as well, but the symptoms may actually have been a result of his severe alcoholism, including a bleeding esophagus. Like many of his characters, he died young, at age 44, of a heart attack. Zelda likewise died young and tragically, at the age of 47, in a fire at the hospital where she was being treated, in which eight other women also perished. F. Scott Fitzgerald's legacy as one of America's most preeminent writers of the 20th century remains, however, and this novel will likely perpetually stand as his greatest achievement.
In general, the novel can be read in many ways; perhaps that's the genius of many of the books written by the Lost Generation, youth whose experiences were forged in the fire of travesty, most having been subjected to the unparalleled brutality of the Great War and the associated trauma from which many never recovered-Fitzgerald may have been one of them. The premise is the story of a mysterious nouveau riche, "Jay Gatsby," a man seemingly a product of his own creation, whose longtime obsession with a married flapper he had met and briefly "loved" five years prior proves his ultimate downfall. I won't rehash the plotline here, but will instead focus on the major themes, as I see them. Primarily, I think the novel is a critique of the so-called Jazz Age's decadence and its lurid, wild abandon which was as distinct and radical a break with the traditions of the past as were the 1960s from generations before. It's also a cautionary tale, specifically that change too much and too quickly leads to tragedy.
The book also attempts to illustrate the emptiness of a vacuous life filled with endless parties and hedonism, in that that despite his great wealth, charm and one-time popularity, the narrator, Nick, has difficulty in finding a single associate or "friend" who is even willing to come to the title character's funeral. The novel also seems to serve as a condemnation of the casual sex culture which likewise emerged from the war, when it seemed that both the men and women of that generation simply threw caution to the wind, and engaged in whatever distractions diverted their attention, and sorrow, elsewhere, however self-destructive and fleeting. Men lost comrades, friends and relatives, and women lost husbands, brothers and sweethearts: after, they seemingly attempted to find something in each other, but, as often occurs in the wake of trauma, not in a healthy way. Instead of relying on solid social support, they instead turned to alcohol-fueled, orgiastic explosions of wild excess and reckless expenditure, so adroitly captured in the pages of Fitzgerald's magnum opus.
In a related vein, the novel also speaks to a similar theme of the era, that of futility: despite all his money and pretense at being someone important, Gatsby is concealing his common background from his ostensible social superiors, by pretending to be an "Oxford man" - although he never specifically refers to himself as such, he's fine with others referring to him that way. All the bed-hopping likewise comes to nothing, with women dying or remaining trapped in loveless (and sometimes abusive) marriages and relationships, enjoying a respite only for a short time in the arms of another, which, in all cases, ends badly, sometimes in tragedy and death. A real-world event, the Halls-Mills murder, the double-murder of an Episcopal priest and his church-choir lover (possibly committed by his wife and her brothers, although all were eventually acquitted), which was endlessly sensationalized in the tabloids of the day, served as an inspiration for the plot of the novel.
It's also an instructive exercise to track the events of Fitzgerald's own life with those of the characters in his novels: he, too, was a young Midwesterner who was educated at an Ivy League university, and fell in love with a rich socialite whose family rejected him on account of his lower-class background. Fitzgerald himself saw the reality of modern warfare when he joined the army; while enlisted, he met Southern belle Zelda Sayre at a country club in Alabama, whose parents likewise forbid a relationship until he could prove his financial stability. The (mis)adventures of the Fitzgeralds' relationship provide sufficient material for a novel all their own, and also probably influenced the novel. Financial difficulties plagued the couple, as did Zelda's schizophrenia diagnosis, which she seemingly developed in 1930, and for which she was first hospitalized in Baltimore in 1932. Her rather meteoric temperament remained a challenge for the rest of her life.
Not surprisingly, in the wake of his time spent in the war and faced with the vicissitudes of a writing career and the responsibilities of caring for an ailing wife, Fitzgerald became a raging alcoholic, but had been since his college days. His drinking accelerated in the 1920s when he became well-known for his inordinately frequent intoxication. He may have been afflicted with tuberculosis as well, but the symptoms may actually have been a result of his severe alcoholism, including a bleeding esophagus. Like many of his characters, he died young, at age 44, of a heart attack. Zelda likewise died young and tragically, at the age of 47, in a fire at the hospital where she was being treated, in which eight other women also perished. F. Scott Fitzgerald's legacy as one of America's most preeminent writers of the 20th century remains, however, and this novel will likely perpetually stand as his greatest achievement.
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