A review by spookybookwitch
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

5.0

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This is less likely going to be a review and more of a discussion of my thoughts on this book. It’s a classic, a ninety year old one at that, and as such, I don’t feel like it is my place to judge this book’s worth. Like, I’d probably be willing to sell my soul to write words so lyrically, so beautifully, as F. Scott Fitzgerald does in this book. (Of course, This Side of Paradise gives me hope that one day, I too may be able to write beautifully.)

First off, the words. Almost as much as I like good stories, I really love good sentences. Words that flow and melt on your tongue like chocolate, words that you can turn over in your mind over and over and over. Words in which you can lay back and luxuriate, not unlike freshly cleaned sheets.

At least, that’s what I got from the book. Really pretty words. But there was substance to back it up.

This story works on so many levels, and with so many interpretations. My own interpretation is likely not very original, but nevertheless here is what I got from this book:

It’s a story about America.

That’s pretty general, isn’t it?