It can be said that I was particularly clueless about the plot of F. Scott Fitzgerald's “The Great Gatsby” when I first started reading it a couple of months back. All I ever knew was that this novel always made it to the shortlist of “great American novels of the 20th century”, or "100 best novels of all time”. I also heard from someone or read from somewhere that this novel had perfectly portrayed the lifestyle of the wealthy and famous, the socialites and crème de la crème which formed New York’s upper class in the 1920s. Those two reasons alone were the main reason that aroused my curiosity to this novel.
Little that I knew that its story would end in such a very dramatic way. That was why I felt some kind of sad, awe and shocked by its very tragic ending.
It also made me ask myself for a thousandth time the ever so old yet still mind-bugging question, “If you really love someone so deep, how long will you wait for her (or him) to love you back with the same intensity?”
Jay Gatsby waited persistently for nearly five years to be able to meet his one true love, Daisy Buchanan, once again.
How long will I patiently wait to be able to meet the love of my life, for the very first time?
Little that I knew that its story would end in such a very dramatic way. That was why I felt some kind of sad, awe and shocked by its very tragic ending.
It also made me ask myself for a thousandth time the ever so old yet still mind-bugging question, “If you really love someone so deep, how long will you wait for her (or him) to love you back with the same intensity?”
Jay Gatsby waited persistently for nearly five years to be able to meet his one true love, Daisy Buchanan, once again.
How long will I patiently wait to be able to meet the love of my life, for the very first time?
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