Reading the Classics discussion

Sorry, I am a day late! Here is the final discussion thread for our last week of reading The Great Gatsby. This week's reading is chapters 8 and 9, the final chapters in the book. Please discuss these ending chapters, as well as the book as a whole.

After nearly sixty years since reading The Great Gatsby as a schoolboy, it was delightful to revisit that great Jazz Age novel with the Reading the Classics group. Having forgotten much of the plot, including who killed the protagonist and why, I learned a lot, including that I’d imagined West Egg on the wrong end of Long Island and all the details of Gatsby’s military career. But I’ve also had the chance to reconsider the status of the book and especially after a career as a student of satire, its relationship to Petronius’ Satyricon. Though the freeloaders who frequent the bashes at Gatsby’s mansion bear some resemblance to the lowlifes who attend the banquet of Trimalchio, Fitzgerald’s publisher Scribners did well the take him off the titlepage. Gatsby, like Trimalchio, is noveau riche, but he is never a vulgarian. He doesn’t boast about how much his possessions or namedrop about the quality of his guests. Being a romantic, I see Gatsby like the Chevalier des Grieux—his crimes committed out of an controllable passion for a woman unworthy of him.

If we would see The Great Gatsby as a satire, though, could one say Gatsby’s inner emptiness betrays the superficiality of “the American dream”? That touching scene in which Gatsby’s father show Nick the boy “Jimmy’s” list of good resolutions, especially reading an “improving” book or magazine article each week, always stayed with me. I fear the reading belonged to the category we call “self-help” rather than moral or spiritual formation. For better or worse, The Great Gatsby continues to embody both the bright and the dark sides of the American myth—the democratic freedom to realize one’s ambitions and the absence of cultural traditions by which to aspire to true excellence.

Classical status requires more than sheer literary excellence, and the popularity of this novel depends on some accidental features. Gatsby’s mansion provides a splendid film set for attractive people and great cars and clothes. It is also perfect classroom fodder for introductory classes. Short enough so even semi-literates can deal with it, helped out by “research” notes ordered online, with characters lending themselves easily to class discussions. (Daisy being just like that rich girl in your high-school class.) Albert Camus’ L’Etranger performs a similar service for French classes; it’s fairly short and the vocabulary not too demanding. So we can expect The Great Gatsby to enjoy a safe place in the American literary canon. I remember when young liking Tender is the Night much better—but then I was eager to learn more about adult life. But as the embodiment of the Jazz Age, Gatsby deserves its place.

I don’t know bout any literary references in the book, neither of how well this represents the jazz age. But what I can see is the startling likeness to the chase for fame and fortune prevalent in our society.

I like Gatsby, I think that he could have done marvellous things if he had only had someone to guide and tutor him in the right direction. His romantic naïveté and his sudden attachment to Nick, just because he was Daisy’s cousin, was endearing and saddening at the same time. His singular drive and ambition was admirable, even if his illegal activity was behind all his financial success. I find it interesting how he was so morally superior in all other ways though. When we see descriptions of the other guests at his parties, the infidelity and drinking, gambling and general madness of it all, Gatsby stands there sober, and sees nothing but the goal he’s aiming for. He is described as not even looking at a friend’s wife. He is fidelity, and loyalty, and dedication.

I would like to know your ideas and opinions on Daisy. Apart from being a symbol of luxury and wealth, I can’t quite understand if she was as selfish as she feels or if she somehow was too numb and apathetic to fight the society she lived in. She seems to not care much for either her child or her husband but she is delighted when anyone pays her a compliment or mentions that people miss her. She seems to pity herself in that she is too clever to be content with her life, as we can see when she talks about her daughter.
“I hope she'll be a fool—that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”
Any thoughts?

Fell off with the discussion as September was a busy month, but was committed to finishing with the group so thought I'd leave a few responses.

Amle wrote: "I don’t know bout any literary references in the book, neither of how well this represents the jazz age. But what I can see is the startling likeness to the chase for fame and fortune prevalent in ..."

The consequences of Myrtle's death crystallize Tom and Daisy's characters in my head. We're told Daisy accidentally struck Myrtle but it's possible Gatsby was covering for her. Tom sends Wilson off to Gatsby's house (knowing Wilson is enraged and armed) effectively sealing Gatsby's fate.

They both seem willing to use and dispose of things and people underneath their station, which in my mind cements their characters as completely self interested.

Bill wrote: "That touching scene in which Gatsby’s father show Nick the boy “Jimmy’s” list of good resolutions, especially reading an “improving” book or magazine article each week, always stayed with me."

This part stuck with me as well. For me this confirms Gatsby isn't rotten on the inside, but maybe that's just me trying to make him the good guy.