I first read F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby three years ago, while living in Colorado, and while I don't remember much about it, I do remember being terribly unimpressed. I like to tell people that it's the most over-rated book in American literature, at best, a literary curiosity that captures a particular moment in history: in this case, the excess of the Jazz Age. This isn't to say that Fitzgerald wasn't talented, or that the book is a complete waste of time--no, for all its nuances and subtlety and tight structure, The Great Gatsby is boring. My initial reaction to it was one of complete indifference.

I've always felt that I should revisit The Great Gatsby, if only to pay closer attention to it. I've always enjoyed tragedy, so you'd think I would've enjoyed The Great Gatsby the first time around. Sure, it's entirely possible that it suffers from heightened expectations: if this is one of the greatest novels ever written, it better be damned-near flawless, and engaging, and most of all, memorable. I don't care to learn how Fitzgerald actually wrote the book (and this, it seems, is a big reason why novelists have so much respect for The Great Gatsby)--no, I want to be told a good, well-written story, with a few breathtaking passages and a little insight. Sadly, The Great Gatsby struck me as a book with no meat, a book so bone-dry that the sense of boredom is numbing.

But The Great Gatsby has always fascinated me, simply because I don't understand why it should be required reading, and why no home library is complete without it. I no longer have the urge to ask people why I'm supposed to like it, but I've long suspected that there was something I missed the first time. (Or maybe I didn't miss anything--my indifference may be due to something as simple and seemingly innocuous as my mood.) We'll see how things go this time.

Comments

[Pete]

I was similarly unimpressed. Every single character seemed like an archetype, not one of them a real flesh-and-blood person. I never connected with any of them, which meant I never connected with the book.