Aaron Pharr
Dr. Collin
Fall 2022
As I near the end of my journey towards becoming an English teacher, it is no surprise that The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite books. F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel is an American classic and a staple of English classrooms across the nation. Set during the Jazz Age amidst New York’s elite, readers experience the consequences of love and obsession through the eyes of narrator Nick Carraway.
I was sixteen when I first encountered the text in Mrs. Hudak’s 11th grade AP English class. By then, I already had a love of literature and knew that I wanted to be a teacher, but this classic wasn’t something I knew much about. I was nebulously aware that the story existed within the literary canon, primarily because of the 2013 Leonardo DiCaprio film adaptation, yet I knew nothing about the story.
The circumstances surrounding my first reading prepared me to become obsessed. My first relationship, awkward yet beautiful, took place during high school’s first two years. When it abruptly ended, I couldn’t let go of the love I had felt. In 11th grade, I desperately needed to understand heartbreak and move forward in life, not backwards. I didn’t immediately take The Great Gatsby’s warning, but the novel’s confession of unrequited love and the surrounding pain moved me towards closure and a better understanding of my emotions. It was transformational to read; I truly felt the power of how an English class can shape our lives, which in turn reinforced my desire to teach literature.
That may all sound marvelous, but I was actually quite uninterested when Mrs. Hudak first passed out the school copies. The eyes on the blue cover stared at me with an emptiness that I mirrored, and the first few chapters were boring, especially Chapter 3, where Nick attends Gatsby’s party and the titular character isn’t even there for most of it! I was an avid reader as a teen, yet I wasn’t quite grasped by this book in class despite the amazing prereading strategies Mrs. Hudak used to emphasize the socioeconomic differences between East and West Egg.
The book finally opened up to me at the conclusion of chapter 4, when Nick is tasked with coordinating the meetup of Gatsby and Daisy, ex-lovers who have been separated by five years. A character named Jordan tells Nick that “Gatsby bought that house so that Daisy would be just across the bay,” and Nick writes, “He came alive to me, delivered suddenly from the womb of his purposeless splendour.” (pg 50)
This dramatic revelation brought the novel out of its purposelessness for me. At that point in time after my breakup, I could see much of myself in Gatsby’s actions. Heartbreak left me emotionally lost and hopeless, and I wanted to recover not just my ex-girlfriend but myself. I was a boat borne back, joining clubs and excelling in classes simply to impress her and have another chance at whatever it was that our togetherness made me feel. Reading Gatsby in English class filled me with many questions that I didn’t even have for my teacher but that I possessed for my own critical self-reflection. Could I hold on to love for five years? Would I want to? What will old lovers do if they reconnect?
If I wanted to, I was certain I could wait forever. I was young and naïve, and waiting for old love to come back didn’t seem that bad. If it was real, it would be worth it. Yet when it came to conceptualizing reconnection, it was nearly impossible, even though it was the goal.
I blasted through the rest of the novel before we were supposed to finish reading; I watched the movie adaptation on my own, and I tried to make sense of it all. I seemingly understood the themes of Gatsby, yet also couldn’t understand any of it. There was Lana Del Rey’s song for the film, “Young and Beautiful,” the teacher’s lecture on the symbolism of the Green Light, and our preparation for the AP exam by analyzing the first reconnection of Gatsby and Daisy when he stands “pale as death, with his hands plunged like weights in his coat pockets.” (pg. 55)
That passage was all I could think about when I did reconnect with my ex one April morning in the school library. I had texted her to stop by before school so we could talk. She surprisingly showed up, so for a few intolerably awkward minutes, we sat down and maturely discussed our past. This moved us from not talking at all to being more cordial around the campus, but it continued to hold my mind back in the past and made new relationships difficult to start. Other girls rejected me because they knew I still liked her.
I knew that I should move on from my first relationship, but I also didn’t want to. The novel is a warning; it ends with Gatsby’s death which could have been avoided if he didn’t try to repeat the past. Daisy, the woman in whom he puts all of his dreams, doesn’t even attend his funeral.
Despite all of that, I, like Gatsby, desperately wanted to believe in Daisy. Fitzgerald gives you crumbs to hold onto, little pieces that might make you believe in something deeper. On the hottest day of the summer, Daisy tells Gatsby, “You always look so cool,” which is a display of love. (pg. 74) Another such crumb is when, on her wedding day with Tom, Daisy receives a letter from Gatsby and clutches it drunk in the bathtub until it melts apart. I argued these points in the Socratic seminars we had in class, bringing a rare but important perspective. Not many people in my class had faith in Daisy’s love ever existing, but I could find the smallest textual evidence to hold onto for a claim, just as I could hold onto small pieces of my own past.
These Socratic seminars and class discussions were invaluable. I specifically remember one of my classmates, Valerie, bringing to everyone’s attention the nature of carelessness within the text. There are two automobile accidents in Gatsby, and this repetition of bad driving was a unique point that the English classroom brought to life, deepening my own understanding of the novel’s events. Sharing my interpretations of the book and hearing those of others got me highly involved in English class, which further inspired me to teach literature one day. There was something different about fellow students sharing literary insights. In a way, the knowledge felt more real than if the teacher had told it to us. As readers, we were discovering and making our own truths about the novel. I think one can construct many truths out of Gatsby, depending on where they are in life. I’ve read it many times since the original reading, and I’ve had a different opinion or outlook on the story every single time.
At the conclusion of the book, my teacher threw a “Gatsby Party,” and we were allowed to bring in food or dress up. She wore a flapper outfit and strung golden banners across the classroom. Quotes from the book were attached to little sticks that we could hold, so of course, I had dressed up and held “God, I’m sophisticated” for a photo. The party was such an incredible time and simple in its conception, but it was that ‘something extra’ that you just don’t get in many classrooms. My teacher’s passion for the book reinforced my own passion for it, cementing it as a classic that I’ve reread close to a dozen times since.
Citations:
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. 10 April 1925
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