Dear
Vina Jie-Min Prasad: The Great [Ending to] Gatsby
By Darius Hong
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I’m not a big fan of playing favorites. It’s not right. And how could it
be? It’s simply unfair to choose a favorite between two things like apples and
oranges, sunrise and sunset, Mac and PC – each offers something special that
the other can’t. But despite my best efforts to remain impartial, over the
years, I have inevitably acquired preferences in most aspects of life (apples,
sunrise, PC), including literature. So, from a boy who has spent seventeen
years reading as many books as he possibly could and wishing he could read even
more, I humbly present my favorite book ending ever written:
“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 –
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into
the past.”
The
last few phrases of The Great Gatsby by
F. Scott Fitzgerald (1925) constitute what is, by far, my favorite ending in American
literature. As far as conclusions go, this one pretty much nails it.
Thematically
and emotionally, it continues Fitzgerald’s good work in the first 180 pages and
suggests that there can be no real way for this book to end – just as the novel
suggests that there’s no real way for time, or a legacy, to end. It “beat[s]
on” and is “borne back ceaselessly into the past.” So, naturally, the ending
feels a little... unresolved. Like we’re not moving forward as most books do at
their end, but rather, in place. Some readers might get really upset at that
ending, but I think the ending of The
Great Gatsby is so great because
it’s unresolved. Seems fake? Just hear me out.
When
it comes to the ending of a story, the most we can hope for is a closing that justifies
the means needed to reach that point. What that looks like varies based on the
book. For some books, it might be an elaborate and carefully laid-down twist, while
for others, it might be a grand
finale that makes you jump out of your favorite reading chair in joy. Whatever
the case, when an ending works, it should feel earned, and it should honor the
sections of the story that precede it.
The
ending to Gatsby does just this. It
pays homage to the story it “finishes.” As another blog puts it, in the novel,
“Nick,
with the omniscient view of the narrator – can see what Gatsby could not. Nick
can see that Gatsby – despite all his effort and sweat at paddling against the
current – was drifting backward” (https://reasonandmeaning.com/2015/04/02/the-last-lines-of-f-scott-fitzgeralds-the-great-gatsby/). The
ending speaks to Gatsby’s experience of fighting for his dream but never truly moving
forward (very relatable. see http://dbanach.com/sisyphus.htm).
There’s a sense of stagnation, no matter what Gatsby does. The ending matches
the tone and theme of the rest of the novel and thus does exactly what readers
should expect. And like any proper ending should, this one reminds readers of
the novel’s main takeaway.
A huge reason why the ending is so
amazing to me is because of its final sentence. Not only is it the only last
sentence of a story that I can call to memory on a whim, but it’s also beautifully
designed. It’s nearly written in iambic pentameter (https://literarydevices.net/iambic-pentameter/) and
has alliteration that creates a wave-like effect. And best of all, the last
line leaves room for the reader to come to their own conclusion about the story’s
meaning, which we don’t get to do too often. Largely, we can look at it in one
of two ways (but if you have another interpretation, even better).
1.
Depressing
:(
Our past weighs
us down no matter how hard we try to move forward in life. Progress is an
illusion that tricked Gatsby and is tricking us.
2.
Optimistic
:)
“Beat[ing] on”
is a hopeful response to a current that tries to force us down. In this more
optimistic interpretation, we valiantly battle against our past with all our
willpower and try to move forward as much as we can.
These two, very
different interpretations can cause readers to read Gatsby in distinct ways, which I think is rather cool. How did you
read it? Let me know!
Darius,
ReplyDeleteI love that you've looked at the ending of GATSBY through two lenses, both of which seem very intentionally to be present for the reader to choose between (or struggle to combine). It's certainly one of the loveliest moments in classic American prose, even if it's an ending that can't altogether heal the wounds Gatsby left himself with -- or the ones opened up by those despicable Buchanans!
Best,
TT