The Great Gatsby

I had not heard much praise for The Great Gatsby from other classmates, so I was initially very hesitant about reading this book. However, the book quickly assuaged my apprehensions, and I found myself greatly enjoying it! I hold great admiration for an author's ability to captivate the reader, even when the events unfolding are relatively mundane. Thanks in large part to my text-to-world annotation for this book, I was able to examine the deeper themes and symbolism in the text by noting and cross-referencing phrases and words in my index. The messages Fitzgerald's story imparted on me provide unique and intriguing perspectives on life and wealth.

Most readers will notice the theme of "trying to relive the past," illustrated by Gatsby's affair and obsession with Daisy, so I am not compelled to discuss that element. However, the imagery of the last two paragraphs wholly absorbed me and deserves mention (although maybe I'm just a sucker for a well-ended book):

"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."

Gatsby was grasping for his future, reaching toward it, a future founded on the dreams and experiences from his past. Yet with each passing day, he drifted further and further from the future and further and further into the past, the only place where his dream could exist. The past can only exist in the past. Fitzgerald's portrait of the futility of attempting to relive the past is striking.

Fitzgerald's tale also contains elaborately detailed concepts concerning wealth and lifestyle. The dichotomy between inherited wealth and the wealth of the nouveau riche arises often, as when Daisy attends one of Gatsby's parties and regards most of the people with distaste. She only shows kind regard for the actress and director who elegantly kiss beneath a tree. The wealth of East Egg, of old money, holds a sense of class, of gay and reserved conversation, of tea. The wealth of West Egg, of new money, breathes of ill-gotten riches, of wild parties, of liquor.

Fitzgerald's preference seems obvious, but his ideas about money and behavior are not so simple. In the final chapter, Nick recounts his most cherished memories from home, from out West. He reveals that the West possesses a different style of living than the East. The East walks briskly, head down, seeking stimulation and holding little care for those outside of its circle of acquaintances, and to an extent, those within. The West, on the other hand, strolls along the sidewalk, appreciating the breeze and the strangers that stop by to say, "Hello."

Thus, The Great Gatsby develops a quite complex notion of how differing people their lives. Daisy displays an interesting progression through these lifestyles. Nick expresses Daisy as being both from the West and possessing classy, traditional wealth. However, after Daisy utterly halts contact with Nick once Gatsby dies and she fails to attend his funeral, Nick calls her and Tom "careless people," who "smash up things and creatures and then retreat back into their money or their vast carelessness," which places them firmly with the mentality of the East.

One more notable message exists within The Great Gatbsy, but its meaning is truly up to the reader's interpretation. The book spends little time discussing the "valley of ashes," the "eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg," or the "owl-eyed man," but lends their scenes a distinct air of significance. To me, the valley of ashes represents the struggle and work of the poor. Nick describes men, surrounded by clouds of ash, toiling with spades within this wasteland, and the valley of ashes is in close proximity to Wilson, the only character in the story that can accurately be described as "poor." The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are, as claimed by Wilson, the eyes of God. However, they are not passing judgment on his wife, as Wilson believed, but rather observing the exertions of the poor in the valley of ashes.

But why? That is the purpose of the owl-eyed man, the only character in The Great Gatsby that wears glasses. The owl-eyed man is a representation of the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg, and through this, a representation of God. Nick meets the man in Gatsby's library, and the man curiously states, "They're real," talking about the books. "I thought they'd be a nice durable cardboard. Matter of fact, they're absolutely real." Gatsby doesn't own books to improve the aesthetic of his library; he owns them to read them, a fact later corroborated by Nick's examining of Gatsby's book from his youth. Gatsby was a poor man whose ambition and work ethic carried him to success. The owl-eyed man's remark is a statement not only about Gatsby's books, but about Gatsby's character. Gatsby is not a hollow socialite; he is more.

Gatsby's funeral holds specific significance then, for only three men worth noting attend Gatsby's funeral: Nick, Gatsby's father, and the owl-eyed man. The owl-eyed man, God, is there because he saw in Gatsby a man of character, a man born poor that earned his success and never retired his ambition.

Gatsby is referred to once as "a son of God." It is only fitting that both his fathers attend his funeral.

(P.S. I was a bit unsettled by the fact that Jordan and Nick were in a relationship though she was 21 and he was 29, later 30).

Heart of Darkness

Heart of Darkness affected me deeply. Joseph Conrad's incredible writing style and ability coupled with his gloomy tale concerning the darker reaches of the human soul creates a powerfully engaging story. The events themselves are masterfully told, but it's the nuances of Conrad's writing that steal the imagination. (Though, this belief may be due to my use of this book for the "learning to write" annotation.)

Conrad employs dry wit sparingly, but effectively, throughout his story. "[The arrows] might have been poisoned, but they looked as though they wouldn't kill a cat." "What they wanted to keep that body hanging about for I can't guess. Embalm it, maybe." Conrad's story revolves around the black depths of human nature, and in a story so bleak and stark, some fitting humor greatly lightens the mood. At least for a time.

More of Conrad's genius shines in his repetition of words. It's rampant! Marlow often repeats words two, three, more times in succession! Sometimes it is for humorous purposes, to lighten the oppressive gloom of the story, as illustrated in Marlow's lengthy "rivet" rant. But the repetition elsewhere is far more grave. "So beastly, beastly dark," "very quiet—perfectly quiet, "A voice! a voice," "to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him." Each word pierces the skull, driving into the brain, intensifying the dread and darkness of the tale. The echoes cast further weight and severity unto the events at hand, crafting some of Conrad's most striking scenes, as in a dying man's last words. "The horror! The horror!"

Most notable, though, is Conrad's use of Marlow as a narrator. Friendly, little "you know"s and "I suppose"s endear Marlow to the reader, lending the book the atmosphere of a night spent by the fireside chatting with friends. The dark and gloomy world painted for the reader holds this human element, the element of a companion, a friend, which causes the terrors of Conrad's invention to stay with you long after the book has been laid down.

Breaking out of the self-contained world of Marlow's journey, Conrad often appeals to the reader directly. Marlow is in fact addressing the other members on the boat, outside of the tale he is telling, but it does not feel this way. Marlow's questions to the listener, of what resides in the hearts of men, they do not ask of his comrades on that vessel; they ask of us. And that is why we, the readers, feel the need to answer the questions posed by this book—regardless of the truths we might uncover.

Heart of Darkness impresses—even to the last sentence.

"The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky—seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness."

The dark jungle does not solely house it. One need not witness the final condemnation of a soul stained black to find it. One only need stare off into the unending sea. And there, in that reflection, some will see the heart of darkness.