The Great Gatsby: Summary, Analysis, and Key Themes

Introduction: The Great American Novel

Teachers and college professors all over the world often debate which twentieth-century novel truly deserves the label of "the greatest American novel." Fans of Steinbeck believe The Grapes of Wrath best encompasses what it means to be American—in the construction of the nation, the development of the American West, and in the pioneer spirit of adventure and hardship that has shaped the country. Disciples of Hemingway argue that The Sun Also Rises is more fitting for that distinction, and still others contend that Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird best demonstrates truth and justice as they existed during the racially tense period of the Great Depression. While scholars of American literature will always disagree, The Great Gatsby makes the strongest case for that title because it covers so many themes that correspond to the development of the nation and offers a richer tapestry of human experience. The novel addresses class, war, entrepreneurship, transformation, the American Dream, youth, beauty, and young love—all set in one of the most prominent cities in America: New York.

Rather than focusing on a single aspect of America's development—such as racism, justice, or the great migration westward—it touches upon so many themes of how the country came to be, including themes the nation continues to wrestle with today. As a result of all these strengths, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby can clearly be given the designation of the great American novel.

Plot Summary

The novel opens with the narrator Nick Carraway reassuring us that he is a reliable narrator. He recounts an expression his father once told him: "'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'" (3). This functions to reassure the reader that the story about to be recounted is indeed a reliable one. The novel is a recollected story—which is important. The reader is beholden to Nick Carraway for information, interpretation, and accuracy, and from page one, the reader is in good hands.

Nick Carraway was once Jay Gatsby's neighbor, and we are told that the tale we are hearing occurred after 1922. When the story begins, Nick has moved to West Egg, Long Island—the more "new money" of the two Eggs. He has started a job as a bond salesman and has chosen a place to live near his cousin Daisy Buchanan, who lives in East Egg with her husband, Tom Buchanan. East Egg is considered more fashionable and associated with "old money." It is there that Nick meets Jordan Baker, the professional golfer, who becomes a romantic interest. Time spent with the Buchanans and Jordan makes him keenly aware that they inhabit a life of great privilege and comfort—in stark contrast to his own more modest, grounded lifestyle. When Nick returns from visiting his cousin one evening, he catches sight of his neighbor Gatsby stretching his arms toward the green light at the end of Daisy's dock.

Nick then spends time with Tom, who takes him into the city and introduces him to his mistress, Myrtle Wilson. Nick and Tom spend time drinking with Myrtle and her friends, though at the end of the evening Tom gives Myrtle a bloody nose for repeatedly mentioning his wife. Nick then shifts his attention to his neighbor, Jay Gatsby, who up until this point the reader has barely seen. Gatsby throws parties every week for the wealthy social set, and Nick receives an invitation—noteworthy because invitations for Gatsby's parties were rarely sent out; people simply showed up in droves, knowing they would be granted access. Nick attends the brilliant gathering and runs into Jordan Baker there. Gatsby speaks with Jordan alone, and she returns to the party visibly shaken by what she has learned.

Nick and Gatsby begin spending more time together, and Nick even meets one of Gatsby's associates, Meyer Wolfshiem—someone the reader can ultimately infer is connected to organized crime. Later that day, Nick has tea with Jordan Baker, who tells him about her private conversation with Gatsby at the party. She explains that Gatsby is in love with Daisy Buchanan, that they had once been sweethearts, but that because he was not financially stable they were unable to be together. Gatsby accumulated his wealth and bought a mansion across the Sound from hers with the intention of throwing parties in the hope that she might wander in one night. We later learn that such a plan would never have succeeded on its own, since Daisy is an old-money girl unlikely to fraternize at a new-money gathering. A plan is devised in which Nick will invite Daisy over to his house for tea, asking her to come alone, and then Jay will stop by unannounced. The meeting goes as planned, and even though Jay and Daisy are awkward upon their reunion, they soon grow comfortable with one another again. Jay then takes the party of three to his mansion, taking obvious delight in showing Daisy the full splendor of his wealth.

Eventually Nick relates how Gatsby accumulated his fortune and how he went from being James Gatz—born to modest farm people—to reinventing himself as Jay Gatsby. He describes Gatsby's mentor, Dan Cody, who took him under his wing and inspired him to envision the person he ultimately wanted to become, never acknowledging his impoverished past.

Tom and Daisy attend one of Gatsby's parties, and Jay and Daisy slip off alone. It is at the end of this night that Gatsby tells Nick of his desire to "repeat the past," seeing it as something that can be recaptured. As summer continues, Daisy and Jay consummate a full-fledged affair. On a particularly oppressive day—hot, humid, and generally unbearable—Jay and Nick drive to the Buchanan residence for lunch. The group then decides to travel into the city, securing a suite at the Plaza Hotel and making mint juleps. Tensions rise as Daisy makes little effort to conceal her affection for Jay, and Tom grows increasingly agitated. Part of his agitation stems from a stop at Wilson's garage on the way into the city: Tom has learned of his wife's affair (though not yet who the man is), and the knowledge is eating at him. George Wilson announces his intention to take his wife westward, which only deepens Tom's anxiety.

Still hot and restless, the group of five arrives at the Plaza Hotel. They order mint juleps and drink them in an expansive suite. The heat and tension combine with the alcohol to inflame tempers. Tom becomes confrontational with Jay, pressing him about his past, his education, and his shady business dealings, and even challenges Jay about his intentions with Daisy. Jay tries to force Daisy to assert that she never loved Tom—but she is unable to do so. Instead she says she loves them both, that she loves Jay "too." This tense scene nevertheless demonstrates Tom's confidence and the unspoken understanding between people of old privilege: he knows Daisy will never leave him for someone like Jay Gatsby—a man who comes from a lineage of nobodies and made his fortune as a bootlegger. Tom is not merely wealthy; he descends from generations of wealth, power, and respectability. After the clash at the Plaza, Tom demonstrates his utter confidence by commanding Daisy and Jay to drive back to East Egg in Gatsby's car while he follows separately with Nick and Jordan.

On the way back, they pass Wilson's garage and discover a terrible accident. Myrtle Wilson has been struck and killed by a hit-and-run driver. Nick learns that it was Jay's car. Later, outside the Buchanan residence, Gatsby tells him that Daisy was driving but that he is prepared to take full responsibility. Nick is overcome by a deep, encompassing sense of disgust for these wealthy people and the carelessness they show toward others.

The next morning Nick and Gatsby speak again, and Gatsby fills in more of his history and his youthful connection to Daisy. Jordan calls Nick, but he brushes her off, repulsed by the carelessness of the privileged world she inhabits. The focus then shifts to Wilson, still inconsolable over his wife's death, who goes looking for the driver. Wilson arrives at Gatsby's house, shoots Jay while he floats in his pool, and then kills himself.

Nick is left with the shock of his friend's death and the burden of making funeral arrangements. The most disturbing aspect of the situation is that all the people who crowded Gatsby's mansion for his parties show no interest in attending his funeral. Not even Gatsby's business associate Meyer Wolfshiem agrees to come. Daisy and Tom leave on a trip and send neither flowers nor a note. Among the very few who do attend are the owl-eyed man Nick once encountered at one of Gatsby's parties, Gatsby's father Henry C. Gatz, and a few servants. Nick makes plans to return to the Midwest and runs into Tom Buchanan one last time. He declines even a handshake, overcome with loathing. Tom's lack of integrity becomes even more apparent when he reveals that he essentially had a hand in Jay's death, having gone to Wilson's garage and told him who owned the car that killed his wife.

The novel concludes with Nick returning to the dock by Gatsby's mansion and looking at the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. There he reflects that so many of us move through life against the current, constantly pulled back by our memories of the past.

Symbolic Analysis

One memorable point of symbolism involves the books in Gatsby's library. Nick wanders in during one of the parties and is confronted by an owl-eyed man who exclaims: "See! It's a bona-fide piece of printed matter. It fooled me. This fella's a regular Belasco. It's a triumph. What thoroughness! What realism! Knew when to stop, too—didn't cut the pages" (50). This symbolically captures the central tension of Gatsby's character: on the one hand the books are real, but on the other they have never been read, making them effectively fake. The gesture reveals a desire to appear educated that remains incomplete. Gatsby, it becomes clear, is deeply committed to appearances.

The motif of driving recurs throughout the novel. Cars serve as the narrator's vehicle for moving between East and West Egg, and reckless driving ultimately seals Jay's fate. A particularly revealing conversation about driving takes place between Nick and Jordan during their casual romance:

"'You're a rotten driver,' I protested. 'Either you ought to be more careful or you oughtn't to drive at all.' 'I am careful.' 'No, you're not.' 'Well, other people are,' she said lightly. 'What's that got to do with it?' 'They'll keep out of my way,' she insisted. 'It takes two to make an accident.' 'Suppose you met somebody just as careless as yourself.' 'I hope I never will,' she answered. 'I hate careless people. That's why I like you'" (64).

This conversation is about far more than driving. The dialogue is a larger metaphor for the carelessness of the very wealthy—their expectation that they can do whatever they want and that everyone else will simply get out of their way. There is a strong assumption that they need make no effort to avoid harming others, and that others will have the sense to move aside.

Near the end of the novel, Jordan accuses Nick of having rejected her: "'Nevertheless you did throw me over,' said Jordan suddenly" (189). She then revisits their conversation about bad drivers and accuses him of being one himself: "I thought you were rather an honest, straightforward person. I thought it was your secret pride" (190). The suggestion is that bad drivers assume everything will work out regardless of their behavior. Nick was not another bad driver; rather, he refused to play along once he recognized her self-absorbed, complicit conduct. He was someone who decided he would no longer tolerate her "bad driving."

On his commute to the city from West Egg, Nick passes through what he calls the "Valley of Ashes," where a faded billboard bearing the eyes of T. J. Eckleburg looms large:

"The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away" (26).

Many scholars interpret these eyes as representing the eyes of God, with their suggestion of omniscience. This reading is not incorrect, but other interpretations are equally valid. They could represent the eyes of the author—Fitzgerald himself—or the eyes of fate or karma. However the reader chooses to interpret them, they should be understood as embodying a wisdom greater than any of the characters in the story are capable of.

After Daisy hits Myrtle Wilson with Jay's car, Nick goes to the Buchanan residence and observes Tom and Daisy through the kitchen window:

"Daisy and Tom were sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table with a plate of cold fried chicken between them and two bottles of ale. He was talking intently across the table at her and in his earnestness his hand had fallen upon and covered her own. Once in a while she looked up at him and nodded in agreement. They weren't happy, and neither of them had touched the chicken or the ale—and yet they weren't unhappy either. There was an unmistakable air of natural intimacy about the picture and anybody would have said that they were conspiring together" (155).

Given the events of the novel, one can surmise they are planning to let Gatsby take the fall for Myrtle Wilson's death. The cold fried chicken represents Gatsby's fate—a life that will be discarded and left unacknowledged. Both foreshadowing and symbolism are at work in this single, quietly devastating image.

Much is made of Daisy's voice, and Jay's description of it cements her status as the quintessential old-money girl. Nick struggles to identify exactly what makes her voice so striking, calling it indiscreet. Jay articulates it precisely: "'Her voice is full of money,' he said suddenly. That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money—that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the cymbals' song of it…. High in a white palace the king's daughter, the golden girl…" (128).

Yet there is more to her voice than simply establishing Daisy as royalty. Fitzgerald suggests that something about her voice is enchanting—that it enchants. She functions like a siren: in Greek mythology, the sirens lured sailors with their mesmerizing singing, causing them to wreck their ships on the rocks and drown. Gatsby is not a sailor, but he does end up dead in his pool—a loose and haunting echo of that mythological lore.

Many teachers make a great deal of the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. Some interpret it as a traffic light signaling "go"; others read it as representing money and the corrupting effects of greed. Still others see it as an emblem of envy—Gatsby envying Tom—or as a symbol of the freshness of spring, reflecting Jay's attempt to engineer a personal rebirth. Whatever interpretation is brought to it, the green light rewards the most innovative and specific reading a student can offer.

Conclusion

All things considered, The Great Gatsby is a powerful novel that captures one of the most riveting periods in American history: the glamour and excess of the Roaring Twenties in the years before the fall of the Great Depression. The novel meditates on themes and symbols that are, in many respects, eternal. It offers a searching examination of how the individual should regard time, the past, love, and self-worth. It shows us that even extreme wealth has its limits, and that self-absorbed people tend to act in self-absorbed ways. In some sense, Gatsby represents a weakness within all of us—a desire for transformation and for recreating a portion of our youth that is forever gone. In sympathizing with Gatsby, we sympathize with the more foolish and hopeful parts of ourselves. By acknowledging these aspects alongside our own flaws and strengths, we become better positioned to build a brighter future.

Reference

Fitzgerald, F. S. (1925). The Great Gatsby.