“Something in his leisurely movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was his of our local heavens.
I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that would do for an introduction. But I didn’t call to him, for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone — he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward — and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.” (20-21)
An exhilarating moment indeed, ladies and gentlemen, has marked this reading of the opening scenes to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s superlative accomplishment, The Great Gatsby! To elaborate, it is a truly glorious and exhilarating day—at least to an inspiring objectivist like me—when Ayn Rand’s philosophy is combined with Fitzgerald’s artistic writing style and malicious social commentary to produce such a poignant scene evocative early 20th century society and rich in subtle characterization.
Perpetually anchored to an Objectivist frame of reference, I chose this passage—though some may say it was outshined by other relevant, pithy statements regarding gender relations, the superficiality of wealth, and other themes that we’ve explored—because I believe that once one considers the time period, envisages the scene described, and connects The Great Gatsby to other momentous works of literature of the 20th century, it is easy and quite necessary to ascribe meaningful symbolic value to Jay Gatsby’s open, trembling arms.
Recall the opening scene of Ayn Rand’s novel, The Fountainhead. “Howard Roark laughed,” the scene begins, and from there the reader is presented with the image of a man standing naked atop a cliff, steady eyes fixed upon the breathtaking vista of abounding trees, marbles stones, flowing water, fertile soil, and other elements of nature. Though he is just one man immersed in such a vast expanse of nature, however, Roark will not for the slightest fraction of a second allow a sense of belittlement or of that overwhelming, sublime fear Romantics harped about to overtake his frame. Instead, Roark dispels these sensations and derives a sense of empowerment from nature—he, as a man, is above and beyond the influence of nature, and must assert his superiority over that static entity by conforming it into whatever shape he chooses. From the marble on which he stands, Roark could make a brick, a home, a railing or any shape his heart desires; he could bend, shave, burn, exhume, and mold the timber that surrounds him; the flowing water beneath him conjures image of hydroelectric plants, of the great gears and levers of industry turning to shell out the products of man’s most ingenious and inventive minds. Roark, in short, basks in his innate capacity and the free will to make whatever he wants of the world around him and thus forge his own existence based solely on his values and ideals. No external force may dictate the course of Roark’s life; he stands atop the mountain, untouchable to others, as the master of his fate. The same can be said of Jay Gatsby in this passage.
In this passage, as he stands next to his lavish mansion--a marked symbol of the wealth and social status he has accrued by virtue of his own productive skill—and gazes towards the open sea, Jay Gatsby stands as the physical embodiment of mankind’s freewill to devise their own future and dictate their own existence. As the passage clearly indicates, Gatsby exudes a sense of self-confidence and independence in his “leisurely moments,” thrusting him above the reach and influence of all other men. Much like Roark, Gatsby experiences an extreme moment of realization in which he determines that mankind possesses the unbridled capacity and individual autonomy to overcome his surroundings and make what he wants of the world. The ambiguity of the world trembles—one could either tremble from extreme fear, happiness, or sadness—allows us to surmise that Jay is going through such a significant, emotionally uplifting experience. Nick, ignorant to emotions brewing within Gatsby, sees nothing in the expanse of nature but blank space and a green light: the blank slate, possessing now tangible shape until Gatsby assigns it one, upon which Gatsby has the freedom to build and sculpt his own life, and the green “go-ahead” signal to bend the world into whatever shape he fancies.
As Gatsby stares head-on and confident at Her beauty, even nature herself takes on significant symbolic value. The water, for example, is described as “dark” and by implication, mysterious, thereby representing the uncertainty and mystery with which individuals in the 1920s viewed their society and the future. Having just witnessed unprecedented bloodshed in the European country side, Americans returned home from the Great War a fragmented lot disillusioned with their society and anxious about the future. Advancements in technology and the weapons that ensued, such as mustard gas and tanks, gave the American government and society in general a new, alien monstrosity that inspired fear in our soldiers coming back home, while Communism, Freudian Psychology, and thriving genetic research tore traditional American ideals asunder. Between Marx, Freud, and Griffith (research scientist who, in 1918, proved that some external material now known as DNA could be absorbed by our cells and could actually change our genes), belief in an omnipotent God was no longer went blindly adhered to and unquestioned by all. All of these changes generally left people feeling out of place in their own society and therefore powerless over their fate. Jay Gatsby is Fitzgerald’s representation of the ideal man, who confronts these mysteries head-on, and forges ahead to realize his values. By chapter five, however, I can’t help but question whether or not Nick is attracted to Gatsby for this aspect of his personality, or if he simply lusts for the wealth and power that Gatsby represents?
No comments:
Post a Comment