Anonymous wrote:I think people exaggerate how profound the book is. It and really all of his novels are just Fitzgerald projecting on how it felt to be an UMC spoiled young man around even wealthier more spoiled upper crust peers at Princeton. Enough already. Blah. Whiny and tiresome.

He swiped his wife’s work.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:"Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes—a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an æsthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.

And as I sat there, brooding on the old unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning——

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

I still get chills.

You made me want to drive to Rockville to visit Fitzgerald's grave. I wanted to go years since years ago but never made it there.

He’s buried in Rockville, MD?

Wow. The irony.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:She was merely slumming it with Gatsby back in the day. A proper high caste girl briefly rebelling, nothing more. Low class gangster Gatsby was deluded and desperate for it to be more.

It's like middle class kids who go to an Ivy or even a public U full of rich kids like UVA and party with and even hook up with rich kids. They think they're really "in" with the rich kids. But after graduation those "friendships" almost immediately fade and all the rich kids end up marrying each other.

Ouch. But so true. You might even score an invite to a few of the weddings but you are not in their club, you are merely a hang from college.

Water always returns to its level.

Raises hand. Grew up decently UMC but nothing lavish, went to Ivy, became friendly with a few cliques of rich kids. Park Avenue, spring break skiing in Switzerland, jet setters from very rich families abroad. Not sure why they liked me but they allowed me to hang around sometimes. Remember a particular girl who I thought was stunningly beautiful and charmingly elegant and friendly. Had a bit of an obsession with her from a distance. Nothing happened, of course. We all quickly drifted apart post-graduation. I went to grad school because it was a necessity, the rest went to New York or London or even grad school but the difference was that for them life was going to be one vast playground while I'd always have to work. Settled into a decently comfortable UMC existence so can't complain. But I periodically look up the name of the girl I'd admired from afar in college. She's now a yoga instructor in LA, living in a multi-million dollar house obviously paid for from trust funds. Seems happy but is still single and instagram shows a beautiful if somewhat aimless life. I'd always thought she was quite intelligent, but for a 40 year old person with tremendous privilege she seems to have accomplished little and lives by the ephemeral. Perhaps it's the middle class in me. I actually feel a bit sorry for her. Unfair, I'm sure.

I also remember reading Great Gatsby in high school and not being impressed with anyone. Too many generations of Methodists and Presbyterians firmly warning against building castles in the sky probably is why.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:I feel like I'm writing someone's 11th grade English essay for them right now lol

It's still interesting somehow! Today, Daisy WOULD leave Tom for Jay. She would know the courts would protect her parental rights. And Jay's social capital would be just as good as Tom's old money society. She would be on the cover of Vogue, and start a fashion line. No losses for her. But we still wouldn't know who she really loves!

Today Jay would be a drug dealer. Tom would use that against her in court.

Please be more specific. You mean like a Sackler family member or Pfizer C-suite or some $100M+ medical doctor who owns a handful of pill mills in flyover country?

Or would be a new age casino/gambling mobster like Dave Portnoy and whoever the hell owns most of the shares of FanDuel and DraftKings online betting sites?

Not a medical doctor... Going to school that long would not fit with his profile. Remember that he tried college but dropped out the first year, while both Nick and Tom went to Yale.

Anonymous wrote:In the book I always understood it as Gatsby was obsessed with Daisy, and Daisy was one of those women who kind of made everyone around her feel like they were the loved one and the special one. I never got the impression Daisy was in love with Gatsby.

This.

Anonymous wrote:I’ve been re-watching the Leo DiCaprio movie of Great Gatsby and realize Daisy’s an enigma. She seems to love Gatsby but choose to continue to stay with her philandering brute of a husband.

Why? Is it the material comfort? If so, Gatsby is rich too.

He's a crook.

Anonymous wrote:Because Fitzgerald didn't write the story that way.

I take it you got an F on your high school Great Gatsby paper.

Because Fitzgerald didn't write the story that way.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:She was merely slumming it with Gatsby back in the day. A proper high caste girl briefly rebelling, nothing more. Low class gangster Gatsby was deluded and desperate for it to be more.

It's like middle class kids who go to an Ivy or even a public U full of rich kids like UVA and party with and even hook up with rich kids. They think they're really "in" with the rich kids. But after graduation those "friendships" almost immediately fade and all the rich kids end up marrying each other.

Ouch. But so true. You might even score an invite to a few of the weddings but you are not in their club, you are merely a hang from college.

Likely informed by Fitzgerald's experience at Princeton and later meeting Zelda in the south. Nick Carroway (the narrator) and Tom both attend Yale but aren't of the same background.

“Her voice is full of money,” he said suddenly.

That was it. I’d never understood before. It was full of money
— that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the
jingle of it, the cymbals’ song of it... . high in a white palace the
king’s daughter, the golden girl...

The subjects and themes of this book are actually perfect for DCUM. There are threads started on these same themes almost everyday here. What makes someone new money? How do old money people act? Etc etc etc. Old money v. new money. Affairs. Social Status. Relationships outside of one's class. Social climbers. Working class / low-class people. Self-centered people. And on and on. If you haven't read it in a while, I would recommend it. Yes, HS students still read it, as it is truly one of the best American novels, IMO.

Anonymous wrote:The whole point of the Great Gatsby is how ephemeral everything is for the very rich. The clue is in the beginning of the book. The rich are different from you and me.

This includes things like love. Daisy probably could have run away from Gatsby but love itself was always ephemeral for her. Temporary, not quite real, more a fling and passion of the moment but would never be lasting. Like you would treat fashion and shopping and vacations. The corrupting influence of money affecting all your sensibilities. Daisy lives on a cloud in an incredibly rarified world where everything else is effectively meaningless objects, and this includes other people. The closest she comes to something permanent is her child and Tom is the father of her child and that provides the most "real" thing in her life.

Well said. Although I'm not so sure it's the child that keeps them together as much as it is social pressure and inertia.

“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy – they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

Anonymous wrote:"Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes—a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an æsthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.

And as I sat there, brooding on the old unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning——

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

I still get chills.

You made me want to drive to Rockville to visit Fitzgerald's grave. I wanted to go years since years ago but never made it there.