I recently read
The Great Gatsby for the first time while rereading
Annie Murray's
Soldier Girl. I say 'reread', I actually listened to it as an audiobook.
The heroine of
Soldier Girl - whose story began in
A Hopscotch Summer and continues in
All the Days of our Lives - is Molly Fox, an young girl living in an impoverished area of 1930s Birmingham. She is neglected and abused by her mother and sexually abused by her grandfather, who she later discovers to be her biological father as well as her grandfather. Molly joins the army when the second world war begins and finds that she's much smarter than she seems. She's torn in two; she has an urge to please those in reasonable authority but also wishes to rebel against anyone trying to control her. This causes her problems at first, but she soon settles down. Her natural ability is later recognised and she becomes an ack-ack girl, spotting enemy planes and dealing with quite technical calculations. Her past continues to cause trouble in her relationship; during the war she meets another young soldier named Tony, who was physically abused by the priests his mother trusted. He is killed by a bomb during their engagement. Molly believes that, if he hadn't been, she would somehow have soured the relationship, simply by being herself. I don't necessarily believe these to be the case, though without him she does become an active alcoholic for several years.
James Gatz was a young boy in turn-of-the-century America. As a boy, he wrote out this schedule in the back of one of his cheap paperbacks;
Incidentally, I love Gatbsy for this. I have written out similar schedules and resolutions. Still do. I don't manage to stick to them rigidly, not for more than a day or two. Sites and apps like Habitica.com and Carrot To-Do help me to stick to them in spirit, even if I do need to ease up on the particulars.
Anyway, James Gatz grows up to become Jay Gatsby, the Great Gatsby. His plans and schedules are derailed after he meets Daisy, the woman he loves who cannot see beyond how fashionable his shirts are. He says;
"What was the use of doing great things if I could have a better time telling her what I was going to do?"
He abandons his dreams of being a great inventor and becomes a bootlegger, in an attempt to rapidly gain enough wealth to be worth Daisy's attention. A fucking good bootlegger, to paraphrase Ben Elton*, who throws parties that anyone who is anyone attends. Gatsby himself doesn't interactive with anyone who cannot lead him to Daisy.
Gatsby explains to Nick that he bought this specific piece of land because he could see Daisy's home from there. Later, when he is introduced to Daisy again - who has not seen him in five years and has married someone else - he describes looking out at the place where she lived, across the water. Looking at the green light on her porch. Nick, the narrator, describes the look on his face, as Gatsby realises that, with Daisy back in his life, he will not have the pleasure of anticipating her; one more exceptional thing has gone out of his life. The green light was no longer wonderful.
As above, Daisy cannot see beyond Gatsby's shirts. She is ultimately unworthy of his love.
This is why I wish to compare Molly and Gatsby. What would Gatsby have been if Daisy had died in the war? What would Molly have been if Tony had lived?
Perhaps Molly was able to move on because she was unable to romanticise her romance. She was not a dreamer, as Gatsby was.
Personally, I doubt both Gatsby and Molly's faith in their ability to predict their romantic futures. We know that Gatsby is wrong about Daisy, but I think Molly could also have made it work with Tony.
I wanted to compare the two because I can relate to both, and that caused me to notice other similarities. Both were separated from their loves by war. Both, I think, were wrong in their predictions of how that love might have ended. Both pulled themselves up by their bootstraps - Molly reluctantly and Gatsby with diverted enthusiasm.
Personally, I think they'd be good for one another.
The third character I'd like to discuss is
Atlas Shrugged's Henry 'Hank' Rearden, another 20th century hero. I didn't initially think of Hank when I finished
The Great Gatsby. My partner wondered what he and the other characters of
Atlas Shrugged would make of Jay Gatsby when I described the book to him. I thought of Hank specifically because Hank married his Daisy.
Atlas Shrugged is set in the 50s, long after the flapper days of Gatsby and a universe removed from Molly's Birmingham existence. Hank married a woman, like Daisy, who couldn't see beyond his money. Hank's wife doesn't care what he does to create that wealth, despite this invention being the driving force of his personality. Hank's wife continually mocks his work ethic and his achievements while enjoying their rewards.
It's not implausible that, had Daisy and Gatsby not been separated by war, and if he had not overhauled his ambitions to please her, that their relationship could have ended up the same way.
I think Hank would have understood Gatsby - he was tempted by Franscisco D'Anconia after all, before he knew the full story - but would have despised him. Like D'Anconia he stopped working on inventions and new technology. However, D'Anconia had a reason that Hank and Dagny understood and respected, when they came to know of it, and D'Anconia did not give up on the being the best person he could be, within the confines of the story and his personality. He simply came to the realisation that he would need to do it in a different way. Gatsby gave up everything he could have been for Daisy. I suppose that was part of the point of the novel; the juxtaposition of war and the good, old-fashioned drive of the American dream against the bright lights and empty glamour of the 1920s and the 20th Century, where brand would soon become everything amongst a certain subset of personalities.
That leads me to another train of thought; a song which embodies the same thing and a lyric that's always bothered me (be warned that this post devolves rapidly into ranting at this point). Taoi Cruz's Dynamite;
...Saing ayo, gotta let go
I wanna celebrate and live my life
Saying ayo, baby let's go
I came to dance, dance, dance, dance
I hit the floor 'cause that's my chance
Wearing all my favourite brands, brands, brands, brands
The songs talks about 'celebrating and living life' and 'letting go' all in the context of
a night out dancing. In my experience, that's never been the case. Dancing is wonderful and all, and like all music and art, it can be a transcendental experience. Yet still songs which describe a night out clubbing like it's climbing a mountain confuse me.
Later in the song, Cruz sings;
I just want it all, I just want it all, I'm gonna put my hands in the air.
Which, again, makes no sense to me in the clear context of a night out clubbing. What 'all'? How are you going to get it 'all' by raising your hands in the air? How are you going to achieve any of your goals while spending a night out dancing, even if you do it all night and wear all your favourite brands? You'd really think that staying up all night would get in the way of most goals, surely?
The brands line specifically is the one that bugs me. Why brands? I can relate to the experience of dancing being wonderful, and I suppose fashion can also be pretty awesome and a work of art in it's own right - see Meryl Streep's speech when she tells Andy off in the movie of The Devil Wears Prada (not the book, which confuses American and English education systems). But just the act of wearing brands? Not interacting with clothing, or designing clothing, or even having a confidence-giving life changing experience? Just, specifically, wearing clothes with names on?
Why not just sing about hearing all your favourite bands, to fit theme? Is that not better than wearing all your favourite brands? What am I missing? I genuinely want to know. I pick on Cruz here, but there are thousands upon thousands of other songs expressing the same idea, of a night out dancing being a transcendental experience. There's something in our culture too, that describes twenty-somethings as being fundamentally broken if they don't wish to live a lifestyle where almost every night is a night out dancing.
Why? What am I not getting?
Anyway. I think Daisy would like that song. I'll be over in my double-layer of fictitious world where Gatsby was born a little later or Molly was born a little earlier and they knocked a bit of sense into each other.
*In
Chart Throb Priscilla is critisising herself and her singing ability. She points out to Beryl Blenheim, retired rockstar, that Beryl isn't her real parent and thus cannot her contributed to her ability; her real father made fried chicken. "Fucking good fried chicken!" Beryl says in a show of loyalty which also misses the point.
