Generally considered to be F. Scott Fitzgerald’s finest novel, The Great Gatsby is a consummate summary of the ‘roaring twenties’ and a devastating exposé of the shallowness of the ‘Jazz Age’. Through the narration of Nick Carraway, the reader is taken into the superficially glittering world of the mansions which lined the Long Island shore in the 1920’s, to encounter Nick’s cousin Daisy, her brash but wealthy husband Tom Buchanan, Jay Gatsby and the dark mystery which surrounds him.
The Great Gatsby is an undisputed classic of American literature from the period following the First World War, and is one of the great novels of the twentieth century.
I rarely read the introduction part which usually is a scholar analysis on the book. So my take on the premise of Great Gatsby might be different. After all each person has a different take on what he/she reads, depends on the circumstances that he/she’s in or what he/she believes.
For me, The Great Gatsby is a tale of people whose lives are not their own. Some belong to the past, some belong to an innocent dream of money and wealth as the promised land, some belong to their partner, some belong to revenge, some belong to the need to escape, some belong to the glittery nights, some belong to the addicting social validation. Neither of their friends are their true friends. Gatsby, a man whose imagination kept half of his life as his own but also gave the rest away to his past that took a life on its own. His life becomes his own fully when his story was contained by time and liberated by the memory of an observer.
In my point of view, this book, via its vivid narrative, seamlessly portrayed an insight about the clumsiness of our society (relinquishing their lives so that they are not their own). 5 words to describe my sentiment of this book: brilliant, elusive, beautiful, ironic, melodious.