Elise’s Comments (group member since May 26, 2016)

Elise’s comments from the Mills AP Lit and Comp group.

Elise Norton
Period 2

Daisy is a wealthy asshole, Gatsby’s wealth is based on moral inferiority, and unsurprisingly their reunion at Carraway’s house is a casement unfolding themes of modern wealth’s deterioration. When Gatsby makes the offer to Carraway to bring Daisy to tea, Carraway reflects symbolically. “I realize now that under different circumstances that conversation might have been one of the crises of my life” (83) which, on a macrocosmic level, foretells the remainder of the novel. The fact that two highly wealthy people are meeting at Carraway’s smaller house gives insight into the larger situation, that shallow eastern life is encroaching upon his western origins. There is a histrionic scene in which Daisy is overwhelmed with Gatsby’s luxe shirts to the point of sobbing (92), a very telling beginning of what is to come in the novel in terms of turmoil and excessive materialism. “(Daisy) saw something awful in the very simplicity (of the west) that she failed to understand” (107). Given Carraway represents the west, when he says “Gatsby didn’t know me at all now” (96), the plot pivots into a focus on the east. Because Gatsby’s affair with Daisy is ultimately superficial, the east loses its substance as a place of promise and loses its merit in the eyes of Carraway.

Elise Norton
Period 2

On a certain level, The Great Gatsby could be approached as a coming of age novel despite Carraway’s ultimate retreat into his familiarity with Western origin. Originally, Carraway describes his Western origins as a “ragged edge of the universe” (3), prompting his adventure into the world of wealth and modern industry. It can be inferred that Carraway is originally restless with the safety of “home”, and, as any changing human is compelled to do, seeks a guileless attempt at change. He views the east as a place of prosperity. “We’ve produced all the things that go to make civilization” (13) Daisy, representative of eastern value, says to Carraway.
“You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy,” (12) Carraway states upon his arrival in the East. This bestows his first insecurity about adaptation, something he doesn’t overcome until beginning an affair with Jordan (who symbolically says “I’m pretty cynical about everything” (16) ) and establishing a reputation with Gatsby. While eventually assimilated into eastern America, Carraway’s ability to emotionally assimilate deteriorates quickly as he observes more and more the emptiness of wealth, and the wealthy’s societal ability to indulge in moral corruption. While the East is described as a place of promise, Carraway realizes that this promise masks morality and authenticity, and that a changing world has no time for mindfulness. Carraway reflects, “I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life” (35), which is a notion towards the various spectrums of lavishness, from the decrepit yet honest Valley of Ashes to the artificial luxuries of Daisy and Tom’s residence and relationships. Modern promises and the American dream, eventually, become unsustainable.
Carraway’s growth as a character results in a recession into the place he came from. Reflecting on the east, it is said, “there are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired” (79), as well as“the rock of the world was founded securely on a fairy’s wing” (99) provides insight into the artificial and precarious nature of wealth. His return to the west is not a regression, but a conscious reaction to disillusionment. “When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever,” (2) opens the book. It is this quickly introduced observation of the ordered world’s disorder that implements the west and east as symbols of honest nostalgia amidst an immersion into modern and moral disarray.

Elise Norton
Period 2

Claiming perfection in literature can be considered a cocky task, and while Fitzgerald’s tenuous creative intention retains elements of American “perfection”, The Great Gatsby’s subjective insights through the eyes of a single character distract from the depth that could otherwise be achieved. While many great novels follow an effective first person approach, the claim of a perfect novel should have a more encompassing look at the plot rather than retracting into an isolated mind. Then again, maybe it’s the American value of easiness that promotes the novel’s fame.
While it’s intriguing to view Gatsby through a objective--almost script-like--lens, his character still weighs heavily on the plot. Carraway’s character, while insightful, documents Gatsby two-dimensionally. The stylistic choice to not enter Gatsby’s thoughts is suiting for his mysterious character, but physical observations of his complexities do not take the reader far enough. Upon first introducing his character, Fitzgerald spends an excessive amount of time describing Gatsby’s smile which “seemed to face the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you” (48), as well as “understood you as far as you wanted to be understood” (48) and “(had) a quality of eternal reassurance” (48). Every character’s persona is based entirely on imagery, an excess of telling and not showing. This works in certain settings with certain characters, but because he is the most influential character in the novel, Gatsby should be relied on with less imagery and more insight. Carraway has a borderline arrogant approach in claiming he understands every character’s mind and can reflect it in honesty towards the audience. “Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known” (59). While a suiting quality for a narrator, a single mind’s observations can only travel so far, making the entire novel feel estranged and unrelatable. The themes that are supposed to move the novel do not exceed Carraway’s own observations, so the themes themselves (love, wealth, identity, etc.) become distant and less universal. Regardless, given we are in Carraway’s mind, his highly personal observations came in excess. “I have a sharp physical memory that, in the course of it, my underwear kept climbing like a damp snake around my legs and intermittent beads of sweat raced cool across my back” (126), is one of them. Needless to say, when there is such a weight placed on external characters, it should only be natural to spend more time on them than on himself.
Generally, the artistic choice towards external observation laid a precarious line between distance and excess. Eventually, the novel relied too heavily on both blatant imagery and observation. This makes it read somewhat like a young adult novel (after all, we teens are gaga over our fictitious love and drama), but its ease likely perpetuates its very American claim to “perfection”.