Saturday, 6 June 2015

THE GREAT GATSBY – F Scott Fitzgerald, 1925

Yes, it’s that time of year again.
A long coach journey was made palatable by this year’s reading.
Sometimes I notice what I think are flaws. And this time I wondered why Gatsby and Tom drove each other’s cars into New York. It makes little sense to the characters but it makes all the difference to the plot.
Also, it turns from the hottest day of Summer to the start of Autumn overnight; a symbolic device to show how lives so vibrant one minute can be in mourning the next, but not plausible in terms of the calendar.

But it is still the greatest novel I have ever read. 

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