As an English major, the sense of shame I used to feel when people found out I hadn’t read “The Great Gatsby” was completely overwhelming. I’ve always been a bookworm, so I read just about everything else I could get my hands on. I was just never particularly drawn to F. Scott Fitzgerald. Recently, though, I read “The Great Gatsby” for my eco literature class, along with “Death of a Salesman” by Arthur Miller and “Ishmael” by Daniel Quinn. I was less than impressed by the former.
“Death of a Salesman” impacted me emotionally more than any book has in a long time. I read it one morning with a strong cup of coffee, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. I talked to my roommates about it for hours in the midst of a caffeine-fueled breakdown. It was great! On the other hand, when I finished “The Great Gatsby,” I just felt relief at being done. Don’t get me wrong, it has artistic merit, but it wasn’t life changing for me at all. Would it have killed Fitzgerald to use a comma every now and then?
A book that’s truly worthy of decades of praise should provoke strong emotions in its readers. It should make you consider new perspectives or want to change the world or, at the very least, lay on the floor of your dorm and think about the meaning of everything. In my experience, “The Great Gatsby” accomplished none of those things. As my fellow eco literature student Eleanor Potter puts it, the book “might as well be called ‘The Real Housewives of West Egg.’” As I read, I realized I didn’t care very much about what happened to any of the characters. Instead of being fleshed out, emotionally turbulent and realistic, they seemed like caricatures of rich people. They drifted aimlessly through scenes fighting carelessly among themselves without much spirit. As a reader, it’s hard to care about what’s happening when even the main characters don’t seem to.
I was a little stunned by my distaste when I finished the book. I’ve heard people praise it for years, and I always assumed that they knew what they were talking about. When the conversation turns to classic literature, snobbery always seems to make an appearance. If you haven’t read “one of the greats,” prepare for embarrassment. I’ve always thought this was absurd, but now that I’ve actually read “The Great Gatsby,” I think it’s even more ridiculous. Why in the world should you think less of someone who hasn’t read a particular 100-year-old book?
I’m certainly not advocating for forgetting the traditional classics entirely; I love some of them, and I think a lot of people could benefit from reading them. But with so many talented modern authors, particularly those from historically underrepresented communities, it’s time to take a closer look at society’s required reading. As Mark Twain famously said, a classic is “something that everybody wants to have read and nobody wants to read.” Could we change this definition?
It’s time to change the literary curriculum to better reflect modern-day society and its multitude of different experiences. The whole point of literature — beyond merely telling a story — is to present stories that haven’t been told before and bring to light societal issues readers haven’t considered. Too many of the classics focus on main characters running wild in preparatory schools and private clubs, blowing through the family money and ignoring people outside of their social circles. This is Gatsby’s problem as well.
“Nowadays the American dream is so different that it’s not really applicable,” Potter said.
Particularly in schools, literature should have some relevance to the average reader to make a real impact. Literary elitism helps no one.
It’s difficult, as history has shown, to make a society change its mind all at once. For now, it’s up to individuals to broaden their literary worldviews. The U.S. English curriculum and public literary opinion may not shift greatly anytime soon, but there are always ways to expose yourself to new perspectives. Ask your professors, friends, family and local librarians for book recommendations, and be prepared for exciting answers. Additionally, the internet is full of fellow bookworms eagerly awaiting the chance to share their latest finds. “Gatsby” might not be so great, but your personal literary exploration can be.
