The Great Gatsby: What a Great Book(Cover)

I can’t get into the habit of reading e-books. In fact, I can only ready so much from a computer screen before I’m searching for the nearest print button. The idea of carrying books on an electronic device that weighs no more than two pounds, and takes up less space that the latest edition of Essence magazine sounds convenient and efficient. However, for some reason, I just can’t get with it. (And believe me, I’ve tried.) I simply need a book. What can I say? I like paper. I like to write in margins and turn pages. I even like the feel of books—so much so that I recently purchased a second copy of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man just because the book felt good. (I was intrigued by the soft binding and rim, and  I got a kick out of how the pages flipped through my fingers.)

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t share that I like to study book covers. Now, I understand that some e-books contain digital images; however, many do not. For me, a book’s cover is more than a picture. Book covers represent the intersections between reality and perception, as well as readers’ interpretations and writers’ intentions. They convey narratives about the historical and/or contemporary climate in which a text and/or edition was published. Lastly, book covers reflect artists’ interpretations of a narrative, and they grant insight into the themes and characters that emerge in a text.

Since 1925, many illustrations have graced the cover of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. In an online exhibit sponsored by the Rare Books and Special Collections division at the University of South Carolina, the curator exhibited 18 images affiliated with the text. While the curator identified the time period and literary context in which the covers were produced, I found the actual illustrations interesting. Of the 18 covers, most of them included images that reflected themes addressed in the text— including displays of wealth, fashion, and romance at the turn of the 20^th century. Editions published by the Armed Services  and for “scholarly” reasons did not include images or illustrations.

Interestingly, all of the covers created for The Great Gatsby neglect to capture the essence of the text—which embraces the dichotomy and the co-dependent relationship between the wealthy and the poor. Instead, the illustrated covers reflect the vibrancy of New York City, overindulgence, wealth, and according to Thorstein Veblen, the habits of the “leisure class.” [1] While The Great Gatsby is very much about the lavish lifestyle of the wealthy, it is also about the harsh realities of the working class, and the boundaries and intersections of these two groups. The variance in illustrations and the decision to include images on the novel’s cover forced me to think about two items: (1) intended audience, and (2) the lens from which particular editions were intended to be read.

Upon reviewing The Great Gatsby and the book covers affiliated with the novel, I asked myself: “If I were to develop a cover for The Great Gatsby, or any text, how would it look? Which themes would I depict?” I found the University of South Carolina’s online exhibition most fascinating because it forced me to think about the ways museum and cultural institutions can encourage critical thinking skills beyond the objects housed in their buildings. Perhaps, incorporating everyday objects, such as books, into exhibits (or discussions about exhibits) can encourage people to think critically about the images they encounter in their daily lives, as well as the ways the themes addressed in books manifest in reality.

Book covers are not just pretty pictures. Rather, they speak volumes about texts, authors, artists, intended audience(s), and the social, political, and economic climate at the time of publication.

[1] Thorstein Veblen, “The Theory of the Leisure Class,” in The American Intellectual Tradition, eds. David A. Hollinger and Charles Capper (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 132.

Myrtle Wilson: For Love or Money

I have to admit, while reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s, The Great Gatsby, the character of Myrtle Wilson made my stomach turn a bit. Although I saw the 1974 film adaptation of the book a few years ago, the most memorable scenes for me included Myrtle. In the film and the novel, she can be seen flying off the handle, stumbling around like a lunatic, or screaming at either her husband George Wilson or her lover, Tom Buchanan. Digging a bit deeper into her character, I came to the conclusion that in using men to define herself and her value, Myrtle chose money over love.

As a 21st century-female, I am immediately turned off by the thought of a woman who defines herself by men. In the case of Myrtle Wilson, she struggled to redefine herself and her class, and escape a marriage that she believed did not reflect her place within the social hierarchy. In the novel, Myrtle is married to George Wilson, a financially unstable gas station owner and mechanic in the Valley of the Ashes. She tells her sister that although she was “crazy for him” when she met him, she did not know that he was not a “gentleman”. [1] She is disgusted by the fact that he had to borrow a suit for the wedding. When Myrtle talks about the first time she met Tom Buchanan, a married man from established wealth, she  also describes him in terms of his clothing. “He had on a dress suit and patent leather shoes, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him.” [2]  Despite the fact that Tom physically abuses her (cue the dramatically overacted, but memorable scene from the movie when Tom hits her after she repeatedly shouts Daisy’s name), Myrtle still sees him as the husband that she deserves. Poor George Wilson seems to really love Myrtle, while Tom treats her merely as an object of desire.

Photo by Christine Matthews, September 5, 2004. Wikimedia Commons

With George, she will never escape her dirty, impoverished, working-class existence. With Tom, Myrtle has access to luxury goods and high-status items that she feels reflect her proper place in society. To facilitate the affair, Tom rents an apartment for Myrtle, which she overfills with tapestried furniture depicting scenes of Versailles and gossip magazines. When in the apartment, Myrtle also changes in to an expensive cream-colored chiffon dress. When asked about her clothing change, she replies “Its just a crazy old thing. I just slip it on sometimes when I don’t care what I look like.” [3] Clearly, Myrtle equates the her social standing with the visible display of the goods she can acquire through her relationship with Tom.

In Thorstein Veblen’s The Theory of the Leisure Class, he describes this need to show off to peers as part of the characteristics of the leisure class and conspicuous consumption. He says that in order to gain and hold the esteem of others, it is not sufficient to merely have the wealth and power. The wealth or power held needs to be put into evidence, or seen, for esteem to be awarded for possessing these things. [4]Myrtle invites friends to the apartment to show off her luxury goods, constantly talks of acquiring more things, and even says that she has to make a list so she won’t forget all the things that she wants to buy. When asked about the dress, she gives the classic “This old thing?” response, saying she wears it when she doesn’t care what she looks like.

Did Myrtle really value the wealth that Tom could give her over the love she may have once had for George? If you’ve read The Great Gatsby, this theme also comes up when it is revealed that although Daisy loved Gatsby in their youth, she did not marry him because of his lack of money. Also, why did Myrtle seem to think she was entitled to a wealthier husband, and that she had been tricked by George? She seemed to believe that she deserved more than George was capable of offering. We never get the answer to these questions, as Myrtle is struck and killed by Daisy, driving Gatsby’s yellow Rolls Royce, when she runs out in the street thinking that she has seen Tom with another woman.

So, in making the choice of love or money, Myrtle Wilson chose money, which didn’t work out so well for her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[1] F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (New York, NY: Scribner, 1925), 19.

[2] F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (New York, NY: Scribner, 1925), 16.

[3] F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (New York, NY: Scribner, 1925), 19.

[4] Thorstein Veblen, “The Theory of the Leisure Class,” in The American Intellectual Tradition, eds. David A. Hollinger and Charles Capper (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 137.

Who Are You?

U.S. Government Photo

Children almost always push back against the identity their parents assign them.  There were three short stories we read for this week in which children struggled with older generations to define their identities, both as Americans and as immigrants, as well as their notions of success and a good life.   Although each story addressed these issues, they all came to different conclusions.  While reading these stories, I could not help but think back to Sara Smolinsky in Breadgivers, and her generational struggle.  When these narratives are viewed side by side, one can see the wide variety of immigrant experiences. Some of this difference can be ascribed to the various cultures that the immigrant families are coming from: Chinese in “Children as Enemies” and “Two Kinds”, Pakistani in “Mr. Pirzada Comes To Dine”, and Jewish in Breadgivers.  However, class is equally important in determining the shape of the narrative in each story.

Ha Jin’s story “Children As Enemies” shows how younger generations can pressure more traditional members of their family into accepting American values.  It illuminates the progression from the traditionalist grandparents, to the more progressive parents, to the children who push for a wholesale rejection of their Chinese heritage, asking to have their last names changed.  It

is with resignation that the grandfather says at the end of the story “This is America, where we must learn self-reliance and mind our own business.”[1]  The economic circumstances of the family are key to this revelation, as it happens after the son rents his grandparents their own separate apartment.  The family’s money provides them with a simple solution to this generational clash.

The child in Amy Tan’s story “Two Kinds” is similar to Sara Smolinsky in Breadgivers in her resistance to a domineering parent.  The narrator in Woo’s story fights back against her mother’s plan for her to be a “prodigy.”  Unlike Sara Smolinsky, her resistance is not the result of a drive to succeed and pull herself out of poverty, but rather from her assertion of her American right to laziness and individualism.[2]  The middle class circumstances of “Two Kinds” means that the struggle for emancipation from a controlling parent takes a very different form than in Breadgivers with its setting of grinding poverty.

Rather than fight to reject up her heritage, the child narrator in Jhumpa Lahiri’s story “When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine” searches for connections to her parents’ culture.  She is thoroughly Americanized, and is mystified by the television reports about Pakistan that her parents watch every evening with Mr. Pirzada, and is desperate to learn more.  She attempts to find out more from books in her school library, but is unsuccessful.[3]  Eventually, she finds a connection in the piece of Halloween candy she eats every evening in Mr. Pirzada’s memory.[4]  This story is completely unique in comparison to Breadgivers and the other short stories.  There is no inter-generational turbulence, and the child is actively seeking a connection to her heritage, rather than rejecting it.  However, since the themes are the same it shows us that there are a practically infinite number of possible experiences for immigrants.

With these stories, I feel as if we have come full circle from our reading of Breadgivers earlier this semester.  When considered together, these stories show that there is no such thing as the “Asian Experience” or the “Middle Class Experience” or the “Immigrant Experience” or the “Jewish Experience”.  The characters in all of the stories wrestle with similar issues, but their reactions are motivated by a wide variety of factors including ethnicity, class, age, and gender.  This shows just how many factors go in to determining who we are as human beings.

[1] Ha Jin, “Children as Enemies,” in A Good Fall (New York: Pantheon, 2009), 86

[2] Amy Tan, “Two Kinds,” in Joy Luck Club (New York: Vintage Contemporaries, 1989), 134-135 and 142-143

[3] Jhumpa Lahiri, “When Mr. Pirzada Came to Dine,” in Interpreter of Maladies (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1999), 33

[4] Ibid., 42

Butch Today, Femme Tomorrow

Courtesy of wikicommons.

The visibility of lesbian culture in modern America is greater than ever before, however, it is plagued by stereotypes.  The stereotypes run the gambit from the glamour of The L Word to the overly sexualized lesbian fantasy of the male sphere.

Popular culture’s display of lesbian couples such as Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi and Samantha Ronsom and Lindsay Lohan has helped lesbian culture break into the mainstream.  However, these women have been easily placed into perpetual stereotypes of butch and femme in mainstream culture.  In reality, butch/femme identity is hotly debated in the lesbian community today.[1]

In Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth-Century America, Lillian Faderman presents a decade-by-decade study of lesbian sub-culture in America.  She examines butch/femme in its historical context.  Faderman argues that the butch/femme paradigm was actually a very classed and generational definition.

In the 1950s the world of butch/femme is strict.  Each were expected to fit specific roles. The unwritten rules of butch/femme dictated that a butch should have a tough “male” exterior and a femme project a passive “female” exterior.  From the outside this dichotomy seems to be drawn from the concept of male and female.  It is easy to dismiss these identifications as an attempt to replicate heterosexuality by designating one member of a couple as male (the butch) and the other as female (the femme).  However, Faderman shows that the butch/femme world is not actually an imitation of the heterosexual world, but really a movement that is submerged in class struggle. [2]

In the 1950s butch women were tough and defined by their ability to stand up as strong women and protect their femme counterparts.  Faderman’s interviews show that many butch women came from the working class.  Their goal was not to pass as men, but to define themselves by their ability to work as tough women.  Being butch and being part of a butch/femme relationship was a way to claim one’s place as a lesbian working class woman.  The older generation and the upper class of lesbians did not intermix with the butch/femme working class generation. [3]  Butch/femme was entrenched in the 1950s young, working class society and other women who were outside this world did not claim butch/femme identity.

By the 1970s lesbian feminists dismissed butch/femme culture as politically incorrect. Many lesbians of this era critiqued butch/femme as submission to patriarchal standards. Androgyny became the lesbian ideal.  Lesbians from all classes banned together as lesbian feminists.  The move away from the strict butch/femme definition is attributed to the new protection and identity created by lesbian feminism.  Women no longer needed butch/femme to protect themselves from the outside world.  [4]

Modern lesbian culture challenges the butch/femme stereotype, yet it acknowledges the complexity of gender identity.  Today many lesbians believe that simply defining butch and femme in terms of male and female is “highly problematic because of its underlying assumption of heteronormativity” (the tenet that heterosexuality is normal). [5]  If heterosexuality is normal then  all other forms of sexuality are not normal and, therefore, homosexuality is less than heterosexuality.

The world of butch and femme is no longer controlled by outside definitions of how a relationship is shaped (as male and female).  Women can choose to dress and act a certain way in a relationship without becoming more female or male.  Lesbian identity should not be defined by heterosexuality.

Queer culture today aims to show that homosexual and transgender people cannot be placed into heterosexual classifications.  Once we do this we can begin to truly understand the cultural issues and struggles of queer history.  Faderman’s work succeeds in understanding lesbian issues outside of the heterosexual paradigm in a decade-by-decade history.  It is the goal of many historians to now create an overarching storyline of lesbian history that is not simply negotiated through heterosexual definitions.  By understanding the legacy of butch/femme as a cultural movement we can begin to see these connections and escape the male/female heterosexual paradigm.

---

[1]  Garrett, Emma and Silver, Rachel. “Lesbians and Cultural Issues in the 20th Century.” Out History. 2008. Web. <http://outhistory.org/wiki/Lesbians_and_Cultural_Issues_in_the_20th_Century#Negotiating_Cultural_Identities>

[2]  Faderman, Lillian. Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: a History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth Century America. London: Penguin, 1992. 174

[3]  Ibid. 177

[4]  Garrett, Emma and Silver, Rachel. “Lesbians and Cultural Issues in the 20th Century.” Out History. 2008. Web. <http://outhistory.org/wiki/Lesbians_and_Cultural_Issues_in_the_20th_Century#Negotiating_Cultural_Identities>

Living with the Enemy: Bringing Domestic Abuse into Public View

Donna Ferrato's documentary photography has recorded instances of domestic abuse previously hidden within the home. Source: abuseaware.com

True or false: Domestic violence is not a problem in my hometown.

While some might believe this to be a true statement, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimate that each year, 5.3 million women ages 18 and older are victimized by an intimate partner. One in four women faces physical, emotional, or sexual abuse during her lifetime. [1] Domestic abuse is a pervasive problem in this country. Hidden from public view for generations within the privacy of the home, documentation efforts within the last 40 years have cast a spotlight on these crimes.

In 1982, documentary photographer Donna Ferrato caught a glimpse of an abusive relationship on film.

I began to realize how he manipulated her into doing crazy things for his entertainment….Her husband patted her bare skin and told her she could feel confident walking around naked while her daughter’s friends were partying for Halloween….She was the only naked woman at the party in a house of teenagers.[2]

For the next nine years, Ferrato spent over 6,000 hours riding along with police officers as they responded to calls about domestic abuse. After securing permission to photograph, she would document intimate moments of family turmoil. In 1991, her images were compiled into a book, Living with the Enemy.

Shortly thereafter, a New York City women’s shelter approached Ferrato about mounting a benefit exhibition featuring 47 images from the book. With the success of the show, Ferrato was besieged with requests from around the country and the Living with the Enemy exhibition began to travel. From November 1991 to October 2006, art galleries, U.S. embassies, YWCA’s, and college campuses around the world hosted the exhibition. [3]

This documentary photograph by Donna Ferrato records sheds light on domestic violence in the home. Source: http://www.higherpictures.com

Ferrato’s works capture emotionally charged moments in bold, black and white images. Inspired by this project, Ferrato formed Domestic Abuse Awareness, Inc. as an advocacy non-profit. Describing the tension between her work as an advocate and a documentary photographer, Ferrato explained, “If I chose to put down my camera and stop one man from hitting one woman I’ll be helping just one woman. However, if I get the picture I can help countless more. By taking the picture I am defending the truth.”[4]

Public consciousness about domestic abuse has only surfaced within the last hundred years. In the early 1900s, blues music emerged as one of the first public spaces in which female artists began to discuss violence towards women. According to Angela Davis in Blues Legacies and Black Feminism, “The historically omnipresent secrecy and silence regarding male violence is linked to its social construction as a private problem sequestered behind impermeable domestic walls, rather than a social problem deserving political attention.” Blues artists like Bessie Smith and “Ma” Rainey brought such domestic troubles into public light, often through complicated and often satirical lyrics such as the following lines from “Sweet Rough Man:” “He keeps my lips split, my eyes as black as jet/But the way he love me makes me soon forget.” [5]

Despite these blues references to violence within personal relationships and the home, domestic abuse did not surface as a national issue until the 1970s. As second-wave feminists advocated that the personal was the political, women publicly began to share stories of their physical, emotional, and sexual victimization. [6] Through events such as the Take Back the Night protest walk that started in 1975, violence within the home has gained critical, public attention. [7]

Ferrato’s work has provided the intimate, graphic depiction of domestic abuse that early protests lacked. Living with the Enemy is now accessible as a book, traveling exhibition, and section on the Domestic Abuse Awareness, Inc. website. Through Ferrato’s photographic work paired with her first hand account of years documenting domestic abuse, advocates for domestic abuse victims can point to graphic representation of the societal problem hidden within the home. A picture is worth a thousand words, but Ferrato’s work is worth protecting 5.3 million lives.

[1] National Center for Injury Prevention and Control. Costs of Intimate Partner Violence Against Women in the United States. Atlanta, GA: Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2003.

[2] Bachevanova, Svetlana. “INTERVIEW : Donna Ferrato.” FotoEvidence, January 24, 2011. http://www.fotoevidence.com/interview-donna-ferrato.

[3] Ferrato, Donna. “Abuse Aware.” Domestic Abuse Awareness, Inc., n.d. http://www.abuseaware.com/daa_inc.php.

[4] Bachevanova, “INTERVIEW : Donna Ferrato.”

[5] Davis, Angela Y. Blues Legacies and Black Feminism: Gertrude “Ma” Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Billie Holiday. New York: Vintage, 1999, 28-32.

[6] Ibid., 25.

[7] “Take Back The Night – History.” Take Back the Night, n.d. http://www.takebackthenight.org/history.html.

The Gatsby Wears Prada…or an H&M Knock-Off

I have a love/hate relationship with Vogue magazine. Their elegant photographs of beautiful garments are always a visual treat; I can open the magazine and escape into a swirling mass of color, pattern, and texture. And then, I look at the price tag. Two thousand, eight hundred dollars for a Prada dress? Who can afford that? I get angrier. How can Vogue claim to be a magazine for women, when only a tiny percentage of its readers can afford the fashion featured in its pages? I’ve come to realize, however, that Vogue is not about being able to afford a $2,800 dress. Vogue espouses taking culture and fashion and infusing it with one’s own individuality to create a lifestyle and look that’s distinctly one’s own.[1] For me, that involves drawing inspiration from places like Vogue and from my own style to create a wardrobe that’s more in my budget.

Is this stylish gal wearing designer or H&M? Who cares! By Anette Bähren via Wikimedia Commons

Many affordable stores, like H&M and Zara, have recreated high-fashion looks for style- and wallet-conscious women. If you see a chic woman walking down the street wearing an H&M dress, it could beg the question: is that dress a designer piece or a knock-off? This, in turn, leads to broader, more significant questions: How do we know if someone or something is authentic? Should it even matter?

Last week in class, we discussed authenticity as it related to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Jay Gatsby came from humble beginnings and made his fortune through questionable means. To the old money aristocracy, nouveau riche Gatsby did not have the same social standing. To woo his lost love Daisy Buchanan, Gatsby acted as he thought a wealthy person should, spending money on a mansion, cars, and lavish parties—conspicuous consumption spurned by old money. To Long Island aristocracy, Gatsby was putting on airs and was therefore inauthentic. In other words, Gatsby was an H&M copy of a designer dress.

The old money’s opinion, however, shouldn’t even matter. The only true judge of authenticity is the person being judged—in this case, Gatsby himself. Only Gatsby knows Gatsby’s intentions. From this perspective, I would suggest that Gatsby exhibits both authentic and inauthentic behaviors. His parties and conspicuous displays of wealth are solely for the purpose of reconnecting with Daisy; once he and Daisy rekindle their affair, the parties cease. By canceling the parties, Gatsby acknowledges that they were a “fake” display. However, Gatsby’s motives for throwing these parties were authentic to him. He was being true to his dream of a renewed relationship with Daisy. But who am I to say? Only Gatsby knew if he was being authentic or not.

So, is one inauthentic when they adopt the symbols and behaviors of a so-called “higher class?” It depends on his or her intention. Should you feel “fake” when you walk down the street in an H&M dress inspired by Prada? Absolutely not. You know that this dress is “you”—it’s lovely, flattering, unique, and the right price for your budget. As long as you’re staying true to your style and yourself, you’re as real as can be. And it’s nobody else’s darn business.

[1] This theme is reiterated in nearly every issue. In the most recent issue of Vogue, designer Carolina Herrera says, “It doesn’t matter what it costs, rather how you put it together and make it individual.” Esther Adams, Pure Country. Vogue, March 2011, page 552.

Hippie vs. Hipster

Quick, who do you hate more, hipsters or hippies?  What about this: who matters more?  While hippies are still derided for their idealism, they are also romanticized as cultural pioneers.  Hipsters certainly have not attained this cache, but I wonder, what will people say of hipsters in 40 years?

Woodstock Music Festival, photo by Derek Redmond and Paul Campbell. Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

The Museum at Bethel Woods commemorates the 1969 Woodstock music festival, and more broadly, the major cultural changes of the 1960s.  While the museum studiously avoids being a “museum of the hippies” it is the closest thing to a museum presentation of that subculture, and hard not to think of it as such.  It is taken as a given that the youth culture of the time, for all its faults, was indeed a cultural vanguard.  They may or may not have been the driving force of cultural change in the 1960s, but they were clearly reflective of their times.  Hippies heralded a society that, for better or worse, would be less conservative and more libertine and individualistic.  Therefore, their story is worth putting in a museum exhibit, as it helps to illustrate the changes occurring in society at the time.[1]

Today, the most common criticism leveled against hipsters is that they are apathetic and revel in meaningless consumption, which is exemplified in this Adbusters article.  They appropriate cultural signifiers from various groups and combine them in a way that strips them of meaning or context.  Cultural consumption and display becomes an end in and of itself.  We are all aware of theories that say that consumption and display do not have any inherent meaning; that they serve primarily as signifiers of class.[2]  However, it is uncomfortable to have this truth so brazenly displayed and embraced by hipsters.  By rejecting the pretense that clothes, music, and beer have any inherent meaning beyond just being fashion, they give in to the worst aspects of consumerist culture, while pretending to flout them.

So how should we treat hipsters as historical artifacts?  According to Veblen, cultural attitudes, fashion, and institutions are

A hipster. Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license

merely the reflection of external, material circumstances. [3] If we take this as true then it follows that hipsters are not an organic, spontaneous cultural phenomenon.  Instead, they expose some deeper truth about our society.  Considering that nobody willingly embraces the term “hipster”, we can assume that few really like what they see.  However, this fact does make the hipster a valid subject for historical study.

Youth culture is easy to hate.  Would we hate hipsters less if, instead of adopting an attitude of apathy and detached irony, they pretended that by drinking PBR and dressing foolishly that they are somehow sticking it to the man? I doubt it.  Young people tend to be self absorbed, oblivious to worldviews other than their own, and convinced of their uniqueness.  Has there ever been a youth subculture in the post-WWII United States who did not see themselves as unique cultural pioneers?  Ultimately however, youth culture is often at the vanguard of our national culture.  Hippies were reflective of our society as a whole, and today’s hipsters probably are too.  Fortunately, the worst fears regarding youth culture movements are rarely realized, but it does shape the direction of our national culture.

[1] http://www.bethelwoodscenter.org/museum.aspx

[2] Mark Grief, “The Hipster in the Mirror,” The New York Times, November 12, 2010, accessed March 6, 2011, http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/14/books/review/Greif-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&sq=the%20hipster%20in%20the%20mirror&st=cse&scp=1

[3] Thorstein Veblen, “The Theory of the Leisure Class.” In The American Intellectual Tradition, Vol. II, ed. David A. Hollinger and Charles Capper (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997),  128-129

Pretty Little Liar

I’ve always loved Daisy Buchanan, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most well-known female character. As a teenager reading The Great Gatsby for the first time, I rooted for the forbidden pairing of Gatsby and Daisy, or Gatisy, as a true “shipper” would call them. Daisy’s charisma, confidence, and beauty captivated me and, like Gatsby, I easily forgave her for her sins. Rereading the novel as an adult, my previous fondness for Daisy returned, along with a renewed appreciation for the complexity of her character.

After examining some of the on-line commentary about The Great Gatsby, I discovered that many critics do not share my opinion and condemn Daisy for her selfish actions and shallow heart. This criticism perpetuates the belief that Daisy represents the upper class wastefulness Thorstein Veblen railed against in his seminal work The Theory of the Leisure Class [1]. As more students look to The Great Gatsby to help them understand white society and culture in the first few decades of the twentieth century, it is imperative that scholars reassess their analysis of Daisy Buchanan to avoid turning her into a stereotype and to develop a more nuanced understanding of her.

Photo by Gareth Davidson, June 17, 2006. Wikimedia Commons.

The name Fitzgerald chose for his female lead provides strong insights into his characterization of her. Daisies are simple, beautiful flowers that have yellow centers surrounded by white petals. The color white traditionally symbolizes innocence and purity. It is a color frequently associated with Daisy, who is wearing a white dress and driving a white car when she meets Gatsby [2]. Although the color yellow can represent several different things, in the novel it symbolizes destruction and corruption, as best evidenced by Gatsby’s yellow car, which Daisy is driving when she hits and kills Myrtle Wilson [3]. Fitzgerald’s heavy-handed symbolism makes it clear that Daisy’s external charms cover an internal immorality. While a superficial analysis of Daisy often ends with that metaphor, a deeper exploration reveals her admirable self-awareness, sharp survival instincts, and ability to make calculated decisions.

Daisy is not a passive, idle, or mindless consumer of luxury goods and men’s hearts. Instead, she possesses a high degree of social intelligence and understands the consequences of her words and actions. Daisy tends to her reputation with care and does not put herself in situations that will undermine it. By refusing to drink alcohol and disapproving of Gatsby’s wild weekend parties, she demonstrates her desire to control her social situations and her unwillingness to follow the crowd when their whims do not suit her agenda [4].

Daisy also possesses a strong instinct for survival and an ability to thrive in difficult situations. When Daisy must chose between her husband, Tom, and Gatsby, a choice she never intended to have to make, Tom successfully introduces doubts in her mind about the legitimacy of Gatsby’s wealth. During the same conversation, as Gatsby implores Daisy to tell Tom that she never loved him, she realizes that Gatsby only loves the idealized image of her that he constructed in his mind. Understanding that a relationship with Gatsby would be impossible for personal, economic, and social reasons, Daisy rejects him [5]. I interpret Daisy’s decision to turn her back on Gatsby and stay with her husband not as a passive bending to her husband’s will, but as a calculated decision designed to protect her personal freedom, economic well-being, and social position. When Daisy kills Myrtle Wilson, she and Tom close ranks and flee New York, letting Gatsby take the fall for her crime [6]. This decision, while heartless, is the most practical, self-preserving decision Daisy could have made given the circumstances.

Is Daisy a shrewd manipulator who measures every action against the effect it will have on her pocketbook and reputation? Of course. Does that diminish her appeal? Not a bit! Alternating between charming and heartfelt one moment and superficial and heartless the next, Daisy possesses a rich complexity that makes her as alive and relevant today as she was when the novel was published in 1925. Indeed, it is unsurprising that director Baz Luhrmann is remaking The Great Gatsby for a modern audience. If the popularity of shows such as CBS’s The Good Wife, Showtime’s Nurse Jackie, and ABC Family’s Pretty Little Liars are any indication, there is a market for female protagonists with strong personalities, questionable morality, and personal agency.

[1] Thorstein Veblen, “The Theory of the Leisure Class,” in The American Intellectual Tradition, eds. David A. Hollinger and Charles Capper (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 137.

[2] F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (New York, NY: Scribner, 1925), 79.

[3] Ibid., 147.

[4] Ibid., 82.

[5] Ibid., 142.

[6] Ibid., 152.

Can I get you your check?

When reading Nickeld and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich I gained more from the account when I read it as a middle class woman entering into a wage grade job and less than desirable living conditions. When the book is read from this perspective I believe it raises its value, especially in light of the current economy. The current economic situation has forced many Americans who had previously been living on a single or possibly dual person income to find part time jobs to supplement their earnings. There is also a wave of people who have simply been laid off and are thus must take wage grade jobs to survive. Many college students are also entering into this poor job market and are taking jobs they would have been qualified for without a Bachelors Degree, wondering what the last four years had been for? The mentality of these people having to enter into a job they FEEL over qualified for and unchallenged by is reflective of Ehrenreich’s work.

The interactions between Ehrenreich and her co-workers I believe shows more about the working class than her own experiences. Her responses are born from an entitled white upbringing. Savage Inequalities by Jonathan Kozol explores this sense of entitlement. One enters into a job and has a different mentality toward a job depending on their upbringing and experiences. For example I entered into the “real world” in 2008 and got an internship in a Museum in North Carolina that provided housing as long as I paid for all the other expenses. I jumped at the opportunity to move half to a completely new area of the country and with literally $600 in my bank account moved. First off, I had a safety net in my parents; I was not going to starve. However I was also a new graduate and as such pride would make that a last resort. I was able to get a job at a local country club as a server for nights and weekends. My schedule became working at the museum for roughly 30-35 hours a week and I told the club I would work roughly 20 hours a week. I arrived to my internship October 2nd and by the second week in December I was working 30 hours a week at the museum and 30 to 35 hours at the club just to get by and I still had to ask my parents for help with the plane ticket home for Christmas.

My attitude was horrible, not to the customers but much like Ehrenreich, I would find myself only getting through a shift by saying over and over “this is not permanent”. How very middle class of me. I feel like this is the middle class, graduate experience now and in that light I think Ehrenreich’s work would have been a solace to me during my own experience.

WANTED: Bigger Safety Net for Bigger Fish

Say, Dan, you were wondering about who gets “the squeeze” in the current economic climate. You know, did the working poor from Nickel and Dimed get forced out of their jobs by out of work professionals, or did those recently unemployed get stuck that way?

You’re in luck because I just happen to have a story on just that topic.

Swell. Thanks, NYT!

The New York Times ran a story about the “New Poor” on Wednesday. This new class of poor is not like that of the working poor we faced in Barbara Ehrenreich’s Nickel and Dimed. The people are not unskilled, do not speak English as a second language, and are now also not employed. Many administrative and clerical positions have been lost during the recession, and the people who held those jobs are finding themselves out of work for months or even years.

The story says that these jobs are unlikely to return even as the economy recovers. So, we are left with more than 1.5 million people out of work who seem to be overqualified for minimum-wage service jobs. Much like the situation we discussed in our CRG class, employers are wary to hire someone who they think will leave for a higher paying job as soon as one becomes available. This leaves the laid-off workers jobless, for who knows how long.

We now have an influx of people who desperately need the social safety net. These people, however, are not using it to supplement low-wage jobs, but need to live off of the assistance. I wonder what the effect of the formerly “affluent” draining resources does to the working poor who needed the programs before the economic downturn.