“There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.” Harry Crew
I have a lot of scars, literally and metaphorically speaking. My problem is I am a terrible klutz, my husband can attest to this as he has seen me fall while standing upright and absolutely still, flat on both feet (no, I do not have an inner ear inbalance). My favorite scar is on my shin and it came from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Yes, the book left me actually scarred.
When I was twelve, my mother had this hankering to read The Great Gatsby, which she hadn’t read in years, and thought she might have a cupboard in her bedroom. So she sent me to fetch it. I tripped on the way, and fell against the corner of my parents’ metal bed frame. 1 trip to the hospital and like 10 stitches later, my mother found the book under the tv, nowhere near the cupboard in the bedroom in case you are wondering, and in plain site from where she sat when she asked me to go fetch it.
This is when my hatred of Gatsby was born.
I simply refused to read it. I would devour everything that sat within reach, for many years, and I wouldn’t touch that one. And I loved Hemingway and I loved the Jazz Age, and still, wouldn’t go near it. Just the mention of the title made me roll my eyes. And I told all of this to my junior year English teacher Mr. Cody, but he still made me read it. Thank you Mr. Cody!
This book turned out to be one of my favorite of all time. I’ve read it more than ten times, I quote it constantly, and one of my life goals is to properly adapt it into a film (don’t even get me started on the atrocity of films “based” upon it). I still have my original copy from high school, complete with notes from my friend Alison, that I add new thoughts to upon each new reading. It is a timeless classic after all, but how many of you readers out there have picked it up since high school? That’s what I thought.
To refresh your memory, the story takes place at the height of the Roaring Twenties in a place based on Long Island, New York. Told through the eyes of Nick, a Midwesterner come to make his fortune, it is the tale of Jay Gatsby and his pursuit (or obsession, depending on your point of view) with Daisy Buchanon, his lost love. Set against the back drop of indulgence, luxury, and unfulfilled dreams, the story is a tragic one.
Fitzgerald sets the tone for each character through an old fashioned method of “show, don’t tell” and the book is heavily laden with symbolism and social commentary. But the beauty of the entire piece, in my humble opinion, is in one line, which wraps up the entire theme of the book for me: “Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course you can!” (Gatsby, Chapter 6).
We are all fooled by whispers of the past at some point in our life, and we struggle to capture them, hold onto them, make them come to life in our present. A feeling, a moment, a person, these things can haunt the life we make for ourselves our whole lives. Just as the past haunts poor Jay Gatsby, who has everything, it haunts us, whether we have everything or not. How can you not find this book remarkable, wherever you are in life.
Such a book is wasted in high school teenagers, this book should be required life reading.
Grade: A+