Gatsby: Stuck in the Past

"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter -- to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning --

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past" (The Great Gatsby, 180).

Thus ends The Great Gatsby . . . (in your pants).

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." What I wouldn't give to be able to write sentences like that.

The most recent AP prompt asks about the "illuminating incident" of a novel. In Gatsby, it's difficult for me to choose just one illuminating moment, because there are tons of them. You've got the fact that Gatsby is a bootlegger, the death of Myrtle Wilson, the revelation that every single freaking thing that Gatsby does is for Daisy, the moment when Gatsby decides to take the blame for Myrtle's death, and of course, the twin deaths of Gatsby and Wilson. But I'm going to choose just one, and it's going to be . . . wait for it . . .

Gatsby's death. Shocking, I know.

We can't repeat the past. I think that's the major theme of the novel, and Gatsby never gets the hang of that idea. For Gatsby, his passion -- his entire life -- is for that green light, for Daisy Buchanan. But that passion destroys his entire life. Wilson believes (with a little help from the lovely Tom Buchanan) that Gatsby both had an affair with Myrtle AND ran over her with his car. The big irony here is that Gatsby actually didn't do either of those things, but he's dead anyway. And Wilson, too. And also Myrtle.

I want to say more, but everything I say pales in comparison to what Fitzgerald says. That last chapter in which nobody showed up to Gatsby's funeral seriously got to me. Anyway, here's a creepy picture of the eyes of Dr. T. J. Eckleberg:

Gatsby: A Feel-Good Story

"'Wreck!' said Tom. 'That's good. Wilson'll have a little business at last'" (The Great Gatsby, 137).

It's one of those books that gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling once you've finished. Okay, maybe not.

But there's plenty of humor! I'm into dark humor that makes me laugh and writhe around simultaneously, and this quote is an excellent example of what I like to read. Wilson's wife has just been hit by a car, but all that Tom knows is that there's a crowd of people and cars around his gas station. Here, Fitzgerald achieves dark humor through dramatic irony. The audience knows that Myrtle has died, and Tom has no idea that he has just said one of the most insensitive things that could have come out of his mouth.

But that's certainly not the only time I got the giggles! I particularly enjoy when Nick realizes, "'No . . . I just remembered that today's my birthday'" (135). At first, it seems like a juxtaposition of a celebratory event with the catastrophic events of the day. So I laughed when I read that part. But once Nick starts to follow up on his birthday comment, I start to realize that to him, turning thirty just adds to the list of catastrophic events. He has a little mid-life crisis: "Thirty -- the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning briefcase of enthusiasm, thinning hair" (135). At that point, it isn't really all that funny anymore -- it just ends up being really sad.

Gatsby: Introducing the Rich People

"I lived at West Egg, the -- well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them" (The Great Gatsby, 5).

The two dueling settings in The Great Gatsby are East Egg and West Egg. From how Nick describes the two locations, I've decided that East Egg is more fashionable, condescending, lazy, and rich. Let's talk about the Tom and Daisy Buchanan, whom Nick visits in East Egg.

Tom Buchanan is "enormous," "supercilious," "wealthy," and a college football player (5-7). Nick hilariously calls him "one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anticlimax" (6). Oh, and he's having an affair with some materialistic married girl named Myrtle.

If I had to choose one word to describe Daisy Buchanan, it would be "insecure." When her daughter was born, Daisy said, "'I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool'" (17). That insecurity of hers is clarified quite a bit in chapter four when Jordan tells Nick about the night before Daisy's wedding: "'Tell 'em all Daisy's change' her mine. Say: "Daisy's change' her mine!"'" (76). Her relationship with Tom is very weak, but she really hits it off with Mr. Gatsby.

I've got to finish off with a few more ironies I enjoyed. Tom says, "'Don't believe everything you hear, Nick'" shortly before his wife says, "'We heard it from three people, so it must be true'" (19). I also liked Tom's racist comment that "'we've produced all the things that go to make civilization'" as he lazily enjoys a luxurious meal in a lavish house in a fashionable area, none of which he actually worked for himself (13).

Gatsby: Introducing Nick Carraway

"'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he [my father] told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had'" (The Great Gatsby, 1).

I haven't quite decided whether I should endow Nick Carraway or Mr. Jay Gatsby with the title of "protagonist" quite yet, but Nick is certainly the narrator. This quote from his father -- the idea that "a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth" -- is central to Nick's character. Although the vastly wealthy people around Nick don't behave very respectably, our narrator reserves judgment, which opens him up to the deep secrets of other characters like Mr. Gatsby.

I really like Nick's character, partly due to his modesty. Around his wealthy acquaintances, Nick admits, "'You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy.'" Calling himself uncivilized among a house full of extremely hypocritical, racist, materialistic, and impulsive characters (more on that in my next post) is modest, in addition to being ironic. I'm very fond of Nick's voice; his sarcasm is very witty and thoughtful, and it goes way over the heads of the Buchanans. "'Do you want to hear about the butler's nose?' 'That's why I came over to-night'" (13).

One of Nick's iffy spots would probably be his incredulity. "He [Gatsby] looked at me sideways -- and I knew why Jordan Baker had believed he was lying" (65). At one point, he was so disbelieving that he had to restrain laughter at Gatsby's story. But everything becomes true to Nick when he sees physical proof: Gatsby's war medal and picture from Oxford. In my opinion, even his skepticism is likable -- in Nick's defense, he's around a bunch of secretive wealthy people, so being suspicious is no crime.

Fun fact: this Christmas, while Leonardo DiCaprio will be portraying Mr. Gatsby, Tobey Maguire will be taking the role Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby! Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

Remorse, Horror, Despair, and Serial Commas

"'I truly thank him. In these last moments I feel the sincerest gratitude towards those who think of me with kindness. How sweet is the affection of others to such a wretch as I am! It removes more than half my misfortune; and I feel as if I could die in peace, now that my innocence is acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin'" (Frankenstein, 59).

As if I'm not already queasy at the notion of the deaths of two innocent characters, this quote hits me right in the groin. Metaphorically. Also, it's an example of dramatic irony.

In her letter to Victor, Elizabeth describes Justine's character as "clever" and "gentle" (42). In her testimony during the trial, Elizabeth describes her further as "amiable and benevolent" (56). Justine is so good natured and innocent that her ironic quote above kindles ghastly anguish in Victor.

Victor feels partly -- scratch that, entirely -- responsible for the deaths of William and Justine. He knows that "the filthy daemon to whom [he] had given life," not Justine, is William's murderer (50). Only he and the audience have this information; Justine merely knows that she is innocent and will never know that Victor's creature is guilty.

Therefore, when she expresses her gratitude toward Victor (who believes wholeheartedly in Justine's innocence), from her perspective, it's just another example of her benevolence. However, Victor and the audience know that the only reason he knows of Justine's innocence is that Victor knows his own creation murdered William. The discrepancy between Justine's perception and Victor's reality invigorates the "remorse, horror, and despair" he feels. (See how Victor uses the serial comma? Good man.)

Also, William and Justine are "the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts" (60)? "Good God," indeed.

Death of a Salesman In Your Pants (gross)

"First time in thirty-five years we were just about free and clear. He only needed a little salary. He was even finished with the dentist" (Death of a Salesman, 1629).

I didn't know you could use the word "requiem" in this kind of context. It makes me think of that "Pie Jesu" song that everybody sings everywhere all the time if you're Catholic. I think of a "requiem" as a song for the dead, so it's a cool way to title the little epilogue.

The principle irony I found in the Requiem was that Laura paid off the house right around the same time that Willy died. Had he not committed suicide, their monthly payments would have decreased, and he would not have needed to provide as much money as before. Seriously -- way to choose an optimal time to die, Willy.

And then we have Biff and Happy still arguing over their father's grave. Biff says, "[Willy] had all the wrong dreams," while Happy argues, "He had a good dream. It's the only dream you can have -- to come out number-one man. He fought it out here and this is where I'm gonna win it for him" (1629-30). Biff's attitude is pretty harsh -- especially when they're talking in front of Willy's tombstone. However, Biff seems to have a better understanding of Willy's unrealistic ideals than Happy does. This indicates to me that Biff is a more dynamic character than Happy -- Biff catches on to the idea that perhaps the Lomans are not meant to be salesman after all.

"And isn't it ironic?"

"'My brave little man!' she said with her eyes shining. 'It was God did it you were there. You were his guardian angel'" ("The Drunkard," 84).

Allow me to point out to the mother that only one page ago, this "guardian angel" was drunk on the streets threatening and cursing at old women (68-70). One of the questions in the book asks about the principal irony in the story, so I've come up with a list of possibilities. The irony in this story, if I'm not mistaken, is situational irony, and here are a few examples of that within the story:

• As I quoted previously, the mother praised her little boy for being "brave" and his father's "guardian angel," praise one wouldn't expect going to a boy who drank an entire glass of porter (34).
• The literal "drunkard" in the story is the father -- drinking is his "greatest weakness" (11) -- yet the only character who gets drunk in the story is a little boy (whose age is probably somewhere around ten as he is on the cusp of being able to look after his younger sibling -- 15).
• The little boy saved his father from drinking during the story by means of drinking himself. Not . . . drinking himself -- "himself" is not an object of the gerund in my last sentence.

To determine the main irony in "The Drunkard," I can probably combine the three situational ironies above into one grand ironic statement. The little boy in "The Drunkard" prevents his alcoholic father from drinking and wins the praise of his mother by drinking alcohol himself.

A lot of people -- including songwriters -- have trouble understanding irony, so I thought I might help with this quote from Hank Green: "Alanis Morissette, when you get a death row pardon two minutes too late, that is extremely unfortunate. It is not, however, ironic."

And All My Death Eaters

"The singing words mocked him derisively. 'How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world . . .'" (Brave New World, 209).

Here, I believe John may be stuck with a case of situational irony. The civilized world Linda described to him isn't as appealing as he thought it would be. This quote is an effective representation of how important and powerful words are to John. Even if words aren't necessarily true, they can apply to any situation. Also, it helps accentuate John's hatred of the civilized world and segues nicely into his failed attempt to reform the world.

I applaud John for his initiative in this chapter. Usually, when people start a movement, they get followers -- you know, it would have been pretty tough for Voldemort without any Death Eaters. (Not that Voldemort succeeded in the end. He had a really good chance; only, he couldn't love.) But John knew that he couldn't get anyone to latch on to his ideas. He put himself out there, which was really the only thing he could do.

Huxley is going to get less wordy.

"'Isn't it beautiful!' His voice trembled a little.

"She smiled at him with an expression of the most sympathetic understanding. 'Simply perfect for Obstacle Golf,' she answered rapturously" (Brave New World, 59).

All of the math in that picture is wrong because there are eighteen chapters -- not nineteen -- but you get the spirit of it.

Most of the characters in Brave New World are indirectly characterized, and their appearances and speech reveal who they are. The only exception so far is Benito Hoover who is characterized directly as "notoriously good-natured" (60), probably because he's minor.

I think there are two groups we can assign to these characters.

One group would contain people with "a mental excess" (67) like Bernard Marx and Helmholtz Watson. According to Huxley, these two share the "knowledge that they are individuals" -- they're outsiders. For this reason, I think that they're going to be dynamic in moving the plot forward.

The other group would contain everyone else -- the Director, the students, Henry Foster, Lenina, Fanny, and Benito. These people conform to the customs of their world because they have no other choice. Hypnopaedia gives the vast majority of characters ideas and prejudices they cannot escape on their own. Maybe the people in Group One will help them out, but I don't think these characters can make an interesting story on their own.

The quote I chose for this post shows the fascinating and almost comical boundary between these two groups. As Bernard finds true beauty in the sky, Lenina "understands" him and agrees that it's good weather to play golf. I think this is dramatic irony because Lenina thinks she's sympathizing with Bernard when the reader knows that the kinds of beauty the two characters see are completely different.