Take a photo of a barcode or cover
ottiedot 's review for:
The Great Gatsby
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Mixed feelings.
I will admit, I wasn't terribly impressed immediately after I had finished with the book but as I had sat with it an mulled over it over the course of a few days I do concede to the fact that it has more to offer the more you turn it over in your thoughts. People smarter than I, and American high school classes have dissected this book more thoroughly than I would ever care to. I understand that this is a ruthless commentary on the nouveaue rich and how wealth acquired through whatever means doesn't secure your place amongst the rich and the elite. About the shallowness and the dripping opulence and the meaningless facades. These quotes that exemplify that-
and
And perhaps, most importantly, that the "American Dream" is a lie.
But the thing is, I can recognize all these things and also concede to the fact that I didn't particularly enjoy reading about shallow rich people being endlessly shallow and rich and privileged, so bored were they of their endless time and money that they didn't know what to do with themselves. Almost every scene and every event that we had to follow through was so terribly drab and boring as were the conversations. Maybe the problem was that this book was so thoroughly and quintessentially American. Maybe I would have connected to it if I was too. But I had always known that the American dream was a pipe dream at best, (as I grew up wide eyed watching the crises that plagued that nation via the internet) and though I was initially charmed and amused at Gatsby for pouring his everything into attracting Daisy, the more the story went on, the more I found it pathetic and depressing to read about. I found it hard to garner sympathy for any of these characters at all.
I will say, since I went into this blind, and didn't really know what this novel was about, I was entertained by the sections in the middle-where we find out that everything Gatsby had done had been for Daisy, the ridiculous feat of buying a mansion and throwing extravagant parties for people he didn't even care for, just to draw her fleeting attentions to him. I also thoroughly enjoyed the ridiculously awkward energy between the three of them as Gatsby and Daisy tentatively reignited their affair with Nick also there to facilitate it and make sure that they weren't caught-especially since it seemed like Nick was taken with Gatsby in a similar way as to which Gatsby was taken with Daisy (although perhaps not driven to such hopeless lengths). I also liked Gatsby's characterisation, his hopeless romantic tendencies, the way he masked his nervousness and insecurities with being incredibly extra for the lack of a better word and peppering his phrases with an excessive amount of "old sport"s.
There are sections in the writing where the prose is incredibly decadant and lovely. However, it doesn't negate the fact that the events and the politics were a little dry for me to read about. It offers a window into a very specific era and political climate, but I can't say that I'm quite so terribly enamored by the Jazz Age or anything. And I have to say, I did not appreciate the antisemitic asides that sprung up every time Mr. Wolfsheim came up at all.
Ah well. Maybe my thoughts will change further the more time goes on.
I'll leave you with a quote that made me snort.
Oh Daisy...
I will admit, I wasn't terribly impressed immediately after I had finished with the book but as I had sat with it an mulled over it over the course of a few days I do concede to the fact that it has more to offer the more you turn it over in your thoughts. People smarter than I, and American high school classes have dissected this book more thoroughly than I would ever care to. I understand that this is a ruthless commentary on the nouveaue rich and how wealth acquired through whatever means doesn't secure your place amongst the rich and the elite. About the shallowness and the dripping opulence and the meaningless facades. These quotes that exemplify that-
"I'm delighted to see you," said Gatsby, standing on his porch. "I'm delighted that you dropped in." As though they cared!
and
I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.
And perhaps, most importantly, that the "American Dream" is a lie.
But the thing is, I can recognize all these things and also concede to the fact that I didn't particularly enjoy reading about shallow rich people being endlessly shallow and rich and privileged, so bored were they of their endless time and money that they didn't know what to do with themselves. Almost every scene and every event that we had to follow through was so terribly drab and boring as were the conversations. Maybe the problem was that this book was so thoroughly and quintessentially American. Maybe I would have connected to it if I was too. But I had always known that the American dream was a pipe dream at best, (as I grew up wide eyed watching the crises that plagued that nation via the internet) and though I was initially charmed and amused at Gatsby for pouring his everything into attracting Daisy, the more the story went on, the more I found it pathetic and depressing to read about. I found it hard to garner sympathy for any of these characters at all.
I will say, since I went into this blind, and didn't really know what this novel was about, I was entertained by the sections in the middle-where we find out that everything Gatsby had done had been for Daisy, the ridiculous feat of buying a mansion and throwing extravagant parties for people he didn't even care for, just to draw her fleeting attentions to him. I also thoroughly enjoyed the ridiculously awkward energy between the three of them as Gatsby and Daisy tentatively reignited their affair with Nick also there to facilitate it and make sure that they weren't caught-especially since it seemed like Nick was taken with Gatsby in a similar way as to which Gatsby was taken with Daisy (although perhaps not driven to such hopeless lengths). I also liked Gatsby's characterisation, his hopeless romantic tendencies, the way he masked his nervousness and insecurities with being incredibly extra for the lack of a better word and peppering his phrases with an excessive amount of "old sport"s.
There are sections in the writing where the prose is incredibly decadant and lovely. However, it doesn't negate the fact that the events and the politics were a little dry for me to read about. It offers a window into a very specific era and political climate, but I can't say that I'm quite so terribly enamored by the Jazz Age or anything. And I have to say, I did not appreciate the antisemitic asides that sprung up every time Mr. Wolfsheim came up at all.
Ah well. Maybe my thoughts will change further the more time goes on.
I'll leave you with a quote that made me snort.
"They're such beautiful shirts," she sobbed, her muffled in the folds. "It makes me sad because I've never seen such beautiful shirts."
Oh Daisy...