Sunday, December 19, 2010

Heather's Perspective on The Great Gatsby

Okay, this blog might be a little confusing, because I can't actually remember The Great Gatsby that well. I do remember that I liked it. I liked it a lot. The main character, Nick, reminded me of someone I know, Nic. Funny, right? I think so. Anyway, this guy is pretty much the epitome of an unbiased third party, which sounds exactly like the Nic I know! I find it kind of ironic that the main character is a third party... Not judging, though, I loved it.
One thing I didn't like about this book was the continued symbolism of the EYES. I guess the first time it was introduced, I wasn't really paying attention to that part, or something, because I was confused about it for the rest of the book. Imaginary followers: they are supposed to symbolize God, sort of judging us when we do things wrong, or something. I think I put something similar to that on my quiz; at any rate, I got a 100. I think.
The title of this book is misleading. Gatsby is not really the main character at all, but he is part of a ridiculous love affair with Daisy, who is married to this Tom character, who is having an affair with a woman whose name I can't remember (which is a shame because you'd think a person should remember the name of a character who dies... oops, did I spoil the end for you? LOLJK, you aren't even reading the book), who is married to, um, another person whose name I can't quite remember (but he isn't important, so it's okay), and who is killed by Gatsby's car, which is actually being driven by Daisy at the time, who doesn't stop because she is scared, and therefore lets everyone in the novel think that Gatsby killed What's-Her-Face-Who-Died via hit-and-run; Daisy, being a sort-of selfish brat, lets Gatsby get killed by What's-Her-Face-Who-Died's husband, and selfishly runs off with her own hubby to Who-Knows-Where. And that basically sums up the plot of the book, minus the whole "bootlegging" deal that Gatsby was involved in (which caused no one to show up to his funeral for fear of people thinking they were affiliated with such a bad person, but let's face it, he was STANKIN' RICH while he was alive).
In case you imaginary readers were thinking, a long sentence like that overwhelming one you read just a bit ago is called a "polysyndeton." They are very difficult to create, and I am afraid that I have provided a poor example, because polysyndetons are supposed to be grammatically correct and I am almost certain that there are a few mistakes in that one. 
^^^THAT sentence, however, was quite a good example, albeit not as long as I maybe would have preferred it to be.
Anyway, back to our book! Well, Gatsby was a little clingy, which irritated me because HELLO, DAISY WAS MARRIED. True, Tom was a jerk and he---
Okay, so What's-Her-Face-Who-Died's husband killed Gatsby while Gatsby was in his pool. He had not used the pool all summer, and it was now September (I think, maybe October). Over the summer, he kept telling Nick that he needed to use his pool, because it was sitting there going to waste, but he never actually used it. Now, Gatsby knew Daisy before she got married. He was a soldier, and he left for war while they were still in love, came back and she was married... Just like a Nicholas Sparks book, except it was written much better and ended with everyone dying instead of the girl calling off the wedding and throwing herself into the arms of her forgotten lover. So anyway, I think that his pool represented all the things that he never got to do with Daisy. All the love they could have had, all the times they never shared, and then he died wallowing in it... Literally, in the pool. And it's appropriate that he died in it, because he pretty much knew at this point that Daisy was about to leave with her husband.
That makes me kind of sad, actually. I think that epiphany was so great that I should just stop right here, especially because you poor, imaginary soul of a reader are probably staring with wide eyes at your computer screen wondering what exactly Heather is smoking.
In truth, I am smoking nothing. I never have (yay!), because drugs are bad. Really, I am just.. Well, it's almost 3AM and I have nothing better to do with my time because I'm not exactly tired and it's Christmas Break. So I am blogging instead of trying to force myself to spend a few hours tossing and turning, attempting to overthrow my insomnia for once.

Insomnia sucks balls, you guys. It really does.

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