The Great American Novel Is a Fake

The Great Gatsby was a novel I put on my reading list as an ambitious thirteen year old who wanted to read all the classics for the sake of reading the classics. I knew it as "The Great American Novel," a novel about the American Dream set in the Roaring Twenties. When I eventually read it at fifteen, it wasn't at all what I expected. This was the book considered "Great," this was the book that captured so well the nature of the purported American psyche? Not that my hopes were so high I thought it might carry the meaning of life, but I did expect it to offer some wise advice about success. And it does discuss success in many ways, but not in the clear cut and easy-to-understand version that fifteen year old me wanted. Fitzgerald doesn't just warn us about the meaninglessness of living to party and drink, or placidly remind us that we should find purpose at some point in our lives. Instead, Fitzgerald prevents us from mechanically unwrapping his story, by writing about the unavoidable failures of placing our success in unsuitable ends; and consequently what derives from a life lived that way. He took what Americans consider to be fundamental to "the Dream," and showed how even success can fail.

As a reader trying to define success, the biggest thing this novel offered me was the reason to contemplate a simple question: "How should we approach success?" Then, reading further, "Should success be our end goal?" and "Does/should success define us?"

Though I think success can be rooted in truth, I often see it defined subjectively. Which I can understand when success is generally defined by the achievements of one's own goals. Though there does seem to be that aspect of relativity to it, I do think it's important to think about success and how it influences and pertains to our lives societally and individually. Maybe The Great Gatsby doesn't have all the answers, but it definitely asks questions. And sometimes being asked questions is more important than being handed the answers. Gatsby touches on success in a valuable way. Understanding Gatsby, Daisy, Nick, Tom and all the other Gatsby characters, I'm impelled to live my life with a purpose. And if I deem that purpose to be success, Gatsby asks me the question: "why?"

Gatsby has a significant motif: facades. In the end all of the facades were not only dishonest, they were detrimental. Fitzgerald's characters are rooted in their own success – or lack thereof. They build a facade because they don't know any other way to achieve success. And as a result, they're desperate, unhappy, and grasping at meaning and fulfillment in every way they know how. Their desire for success drives them into building their identity, relationships, their entire lives, off of a false pretense. Their own success (be it money, love, status, happiness, etc.) is what ultimately results in their demise. Though it's not simply because of their longing for success; it's because they all looked for success in things that couldn't offer them everything they wanted and needed.

Instead of searching for success in something unchangeable, the Gatsby characters placed their success in unfulfilling things. James Gatz found success in status and dignity, so he rid himself of his past and created "Jay Gatsby" in hopes of charming his one love. Daisy found success in her own confidence and attraction, and is clandestinely allured by the mysterious and exciting Gatsby. But this isn't enough for them. Gatsby doesn't like the man Gatsby, he likes the idea of Gatsby. Daisy doesn't like real love, she likes the idea of real love. We don't like The Great American Novel – we like the idea of it.

And I might be stretching a bit far by saying this, but maybe we like the idea of success rather than success itself. Maybe that's because what we define as success isn't as fulfilling as we think it will be. Maybe we get caught up in ideas and hypotheticals and facades in the same way the Gatsby characters did. We shouldn't define success by our own standard of achievement; success is defined by living for a Higher Good. Perhaps living virtuously or living for our own happiness isn't enough; perhaps we need a concrete end, an absolute telos that can only be fulfilled by the Unmoved Mover himself.