Mr. Gatsby’s void was tragic. For years I told myself that I was not going to read this book again, but it struck me a few weeks ago that that was foolish. The Great Gatsby, a novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald, depicts a man, Jay Gatsby, with a lonely void; and to fill it, he amassed lies, illicit wealth and an undying desire to be loved again by a woman, now married.
He was a criminal, but even he was lonely and needed love. He was a liar and lived out a false persona, but even he was lonely and needed love. And what did he get in the end? Death, loneliness and no love, at least not from the one person he desired it from.
And that was the reason why I had not read the book in years; too painful. But I knew that his end would have not turned out good. Yes, it was his choices that finally did him in, but it was also the choices of others that helped.
“I found myself on Gatsby’s side, and alone. From the moment I telephoned news of the catastrophe to West Egg village, every surmise about him, and every practical question, was referred to me. At first I was surprised, and confused; then, as he lay in his house and didn’t move or breathe or speak, hour upon hour, it grew upon me that I was responsible, because no one else was interested – interested, I mean, with that intense personal interest to which everyone has some vague right at the end.”
“I went back to the drawing-room and thought for an instant that they were chance visitors, all these official people who suddenly filled it. But, though they drew back the sheet and looked at Gatsby with shocked eyes, his protest continued in my brain. ‘Look here, old sport, you’ve got to get somebody for me. You’ve got to try hard. I can’t go through this alone.'” from chapter 9, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
Loneliness, wanting to be loved, wanting to fit in can lead to dire consequences. We make choices everyday, how do we know, how can we tell if they are the right ones? Is it a right that others should care about us?
Have a lovely, sunflower day. 🙂