Not too long ago, I read on Reddit of all places a post by somebody that had
read The Great Gatsby for the first time. Their story was not unlike my own. A
bit older, not much of a reader but trying to pick up reading more.
The said that The Great Gatsby was a book that made them want to read more. If
memory serves, they said it was the greatest thing they had ever read.
Gatsby is one of those books that I was supposed to read back in High School
or so. I didn’t read jack shit in High School but all these years later, I am
trying to catch up on these assigned and long forgotten tomes from my youth.
Fortunately, Gatsby wasn’t much of a tome, weighing in at a couple of hundred
pages. If I had let myself go full blast on it, I probably could have finished
it in a couple of days. Slow and steady wins the race though, so trying to read
consistently each day instead of plowing through stuff, even when it’s good.
The book itself was pretty magnificent, and I can see why it would inspire
somebody to read more. Perhaps it’s because of how concise it is. Since it’s so
short, I didn’t want it to end, thus wanting to read more.
A writer buddy of mine had mentioned that it’s pretty much mandatory for anybody
reading The Great Gatsby to write a report on the colors and the symbolism of
the book. I actually hadn’t even noticed that the use of color was so damn
prevalent in the writing until after he mentioned it. The second half of the
book definitely took on a different hue once I was more aware.
Fortunately for you, I won’t wax poetic on the colors. I will say that the
writing as a whole painted a glorious picture, even with such a tragic end.
I’ll leave you with a quote, one that I see around from time to time and never
knew where it came from:
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.