"Strength, grace, romance, folly, poetry, youth- she read him like a page."
"For the philosopher is right who says that nothing thicker than 4.25 stars
"Strength, grace, romance, folly, poetry, youth- she read him like a page."
"For the philosopher is right who says that nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy."
"Nature who has played so many queer tricks upon us, making us so unequally of clay and diamonds, of rainbow and granite, and stuffed them into a case..."
I just-
Such an exquisitely written book. I am now a fan of Ms. Woolf and her writing and will continue to suffer until I pick another book of hers. ...more
I first read The Great Gatsby several years ago. My father has a bunch of books lying around, and the ones that I was lucky to score was Emm4.25 stars
I first read The Great Gatsby several years ago. My father has a bunch of books lying around, and the ones that I was lucky to score was Emma and The Great Gatsby.
Needless to say, I didn't understand what was happening in the book. The only thing I took from my first read was that Gatsby and Nick were too fond of each other (the point still stands)
After all these long years where the story was a fever dream in my head and countless Sparknotes memes, I read it. And yes, it was beautiful but it seemed watered down in comparison to the image I has created in my head.
For me, this is the perfect summer read, sultry, with you not knowing what to do with your body, the night coming as a repose and the desire for the green light.
I also thought that the book was lowkey funny. Like I was screaming at Jay to control himself, with him almost breaking the clock at Nick's place. I also liked Daisy's character a lot more.
Finally, I can't believe I found Nick annoying the first time because, for me, he is the only person with a semblance of a brain cell in this entire book. Like the poor guy was just trying to set up his business.
Also, someone needs to drop the uncut version with Nick and Jay falling in love.
“Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.”