Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Desiring Gatsby

I've always been enamored with The Great Gatsby. Even in high school, when I was supposed to hate it because it was being forced upon me, I found myself drawn to the novel. After having read it numerous times, I still find myself excited about it. Not altogether surprisingly, then, I was also tremendously excited when I heard that a new Gatsby film was being made. I was fortunate enough to get a free pass to an advanced screening of the film. I don't want to write a film review here, but, for what its worth, I actually thought the film was quite well done (even if a bit too long), and, demonstrated a profoundly interesting interpretation of the book.

In many ways, I've never really believed that Gatsby is primarily a critique of an American culture of consumerism (which does need critique), or of the destructive nature of excess. To the contrary, I see in Gatsby a commentary on the pervasive nihilism of desire. It is often missed that this is a story as much, if not more, about Nick Carraway as it is a story about Jay Gatsby. The story of Gatsby's longing for Daisy is paralleled by Nick's own infatuation with Gatsby. Both men, Nick and Gatsby, are primarily characters of desire. They are both profoundly tragic characters who cannot even recognize the extent of their own brokenness. The overarching narrative of the text revolves around Gatsby's pursuit of Daisy, a woman who he remembers with fondness because of a past fling. Yet, it would be a great misunderstanding to consider Gatsby a love story. For, ultimately, it is demonstrated that it is not Daisy for whom Gatsby longs, but a memory. Gatsby longs for the past. Even though Gatsby's past is one of relative poverty, the story makes clear that Gatsby's wealth brings him little joy. His great estate, his fine clothes, his many toys- they are all for the Daisy of his past. Gatsby would give up all of these possessions if it meant the opportunity for a mulligan on his life. Gatsby simply needs to return. 

Nick's desire, on the other hand, is not a desire for the past, but a desire born out of insecurity and misunderstanding. Nick sees in Gatsby the appearance of happiness. Nick's tragedy is that he foregoes the happiness in which he already lives, to seek after a happiness which has never actually existed. This is the nature of desire: it serves to pervert the already in favour of a future which can never be. Whereas Gatsby's desire perverted the present in longing for the past, Nick's desire perverted the present in longing for a  false future. While it is important to be forward looking (hence the name of this blog), this looking-forward becomes nihilistic desire when it rejects the importance of the present. Nick saw in Gatsby not somebody who made himself into what he was, but a man who mysteriously appeared, fully formed and perfect (one might even say "Great"), into Nick's life. Nick's desire rejects present contentment. Yet, at no time does Nick take any sort of steps to transform his life into that which he desires. He puts forth no effort, and embodies no change. He simply allows himself to fall into the Gatsbian rabbit hole, dragged along indifferently by what he desires to be. 

Both Gatsby and Nick are men who cannot embrace the present. One looks backward, the other wishes forward. The desire of each man is profoundly nihilistic insofar as neither man can ever find a home in the present. The final scene of Gatsby offers one of the most beautiful, and perhaps haunting, conclusions in all of literature. "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 then one fine morning—So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."  For Gatsby, this magical green light contains all of the lost promise of the past. This green light 'recedes' before us; it goes back. Year by year, time incessantly progresses, and refuses to let us find either the future or the past. All that is left is a memory: Gatsby's memory of Daisy, and Nick's memory of Gatsby. Nick, the narrator, in this conclusion finally seems to begin understanding the nature of Gatsby's tragedy (even if not explicitly his own). 'It eluded us then, but that's no matter." We see here the beginning of hope overcoming desire. 'So we beat on, boats against the current...' Isn't this the nature of life? We beat on. In the face of adversity, and life itself is adversity, we beat on. Yet, it is important to remember that it matters little whether we run faster or stretch out our arms further. Despite what both Gatsby and Nick seemed to believe, the green light can never be reached, because the green light is not external to us. The green light is the point at which our past and future come together- a hopeful present. The green light is not that for which we desire, but that which inspires hope within us. So we beat on...