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CGlanovsky: Shady social upstarts rising to prominence in societies dealing with fundamental class upheaval and entertaining romantic aspirations outside their traditional spheres.
lottpoet: This book features a well-off family, pillars of the community, taking things to quite tragic lengths. It follows an African-American family and so adds colorism and racism to the mix.
elenchus: Unfinished Season is set in the 1950s in and around Chicago, but elsewise an interesting parallel to The Great Gatsby in terms of setting and basic plot: class and manners among the society elite, and a young man wrestling with changes in family, caste, and personal relations.… (més)
Quan l'acabes veus una obra molt rodona i estructurada; traça com ningú personatges i relacions icòniques. Per altra banda, tot i ser Gatsby el paradigma del noi romàntic i turmentat, m'he trobat amb una narració terriblement asèptica i freda; no he disfrutat en el línia-a-línia . ( )
F. Scott Fitzgerald excelled at this sort of character. Few can write a more vivid neighbor, train conductor or, more usually, bartender.
afegit per vibesandall | editaThe New York Times, Parul Sehgal(Dec 30, 2020)
Here are five reasons supplemented by quotes from The Great Gatsby that best explain Fitzgerald’s magnum opus and why it is a timeless classic, drawing legions of readers through ages.
afegit per vibesandall | editaHindustian Times, Sneha Bengani(Oct 3, 2016)
American classic captures romance, debauchery of Jazz Age.
afegit per vibesandall | editaCommon Sense Media, Barbara Schultz(Sep 30, 2015)
What gives the story distinction is something quite different from the management of the action or the handling of the characters; it is the charm and beauty of the writing.
afegit per vibesandall | editaChicago Tribune, HL Mencken(Jan 23, 2015)
Fitzgerald's jazz age masterpiece has become a tantalising metaphor for the eternal mystery of art.
afegit per vibesandall | editaThe Guardian, Robert McCrum(Sep 8, 2014)
Give the novel another try. It's an extraordinary feat of writing — sparse, cool, and elegant — as well as a riveting dissertation on the hollowness of the American dream as it played out during the champagne-fueled decadence of the Jazz Age.
afegit per vibesandall | editaEntertainment Weekly, EW Staff(Jun 27, 2013)
For evocative beauty, what can ever beat the last line of The Great Gatsby, which is engraved on the Rockville, Md., grave the author and his wife Zelda share. "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
afegit per vibesandall | editaUSA Today, Deirdre Donahue(May 7, 2013)
It’s not only a page-turner and a heartbreaker, it’s one of the most quintessentially American novels ever written.
The first and greatest modern novel, it has beautiful women, lavish parties, romance, betrayal and murder woven together in an intricately structured plot. A prescient comment on the dying days of a gilded age that is brilliant entertainment with a very eloquent insight
Gatsby is a connoisseur's guide to the glamour and glitter of the Jazz Age, but it's also a nearly prophetic glimpse into the world to come. Writing at the height of the boom, in the midst of the Roaring Twenties, Fitzgerald detected the ephemerality, fakery and corruption always lurking at the heart of the great American success story... A haunting meditation on aspiration, disillusionment, romantic love - and a blistering exposé of the materialism, duplicity, and sexual politics driving what Fitzgerald calls America's true "business": "the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty"
The Great Gatsby remains not just one of the greatest works of American literature, but a timeless evocation of the allure, corruption and carelessness of wealth...a gilded society intoxicated by wealth, dancing its way into the Great Depression.
Were you to lay this thing out by the sentence, it’d be as close as an array of words could get to strands of pearls. “The cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment-houses”? That line alone is almost enough to make me quit typing for the rest of my life.
There are many novels which claim that they are the greatest love story of all time. It is only in the case of this novel that that statement can be applied and be true.
A remarkable book. . . . It has interested and excited me more than any new novel I have seen, either English or American, for a number of years. . . . . It seems to me to be the first step that American fiction has taken since Henry James.
Jay Gatsby, el caballero que reina sobre West Egg, el anfitrión de las noches sin tregua, pero también el triunfador marcado por el trágico sino de una soledad no pretendida, es el arquetipo de esos años veinte que se iniciaron con la Prohibición y discurrieron en el gangsterismo y la corrupción política organizada. Protagonista de una década que culminaría con la catástrofe de 1929, su imagen de esplendor no hace sino anunciar un drama inevitable. Triunfo de perpetua juventud, brillantez animada por el exceso, fueron también las constantes de la vida de Francis Scott Fitzgerald, quien nos ofrece en El gran Gatsby una de sus obras mayores.
A curious book, a mystical, glamourous story of today. It takes a deeper cut at life than hitherto has been enjoyed by Mr. Fitzgerald. He writes well-he always has-for he writes naturally, and his sense of form is becoming perfected.
afegit per vibesandall | editaThe New York Times Book Review, Edwin Clark(Apr 19, 1925)
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Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her; If you can bounce high, bounce for her too, Till she cry "Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover, I must have you!" —Thomas Parke D'Invilliers
Dedicatòria
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ONCE AGAIN TO ZELDA
Primeres paraules
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In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
Citacions
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Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead.
All right ... I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool—that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.
This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens, where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
"Whenever you feel like criticizing any one," he told me. "just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had."
I rented a house ... on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of new york -- where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land. Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and seprated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound. They are not perfect ovals ... but their physical resembalnce must be a source of perpetual wonder to the gullsthat fly overhead.
. . . he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts,breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about . . . like that ashen, fantastic figure gliding toward him through the amorphous trees.
They were careless people, Tom and Daisy - they smashed things up and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made...
Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes — a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.
And as I sat there, brooding on the old unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning —
"I'm thirty," I said. "I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor."
And I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties their isn't any privacy.
“If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay," said Gatsby. "You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock."
Daisy put her arm through his abruptly, but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.
Darreres paraules
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So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.