“I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”
I think there’s an assumption that because something is a ‘classic’ then the world and his wife must know what it’s about.
To be honest I wasn’t sure what to expect from The Great Gatsby. All you tend to hear is that it’s a classic.
We follow a man named Nick Carraway, the neighbour of one Jay Gatsby. We see the life of Mr Gatsby through his eyes. The grand parties, expensive acquisitions and his greatest desires. What Mr. Gatsby desires most is Mr Carraways cousin, Daisy.
Perhaps I should have expected it, but at it’s core The Great Gatsby is a tale of love.
Of course it’s somewhat dated, which is to be expected, though to be honest it was predominantly the way Daisy was written. It was moments where through the page she’d be yelling and I’d here Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The kind of yelling that only comes through an old movie, it felt very dramatic.
On the other hand, if there’s something that I don’t think can be denied is that this story definitely has a flair for the dramatics.
I found it interesting the way the author was able to translate what is of real importance to a person, and what that person has left. Who stands with him until the end. You can be surrounded by people who claim to be enamoured with you, and yet don’t care enough to remember you.
I think it’s clear I’m still making up my mind about this one. I can’t say I loved it however, I also can’t say I disliked it. What I can say is that I’m glad I read it.