
A literary character study exploring the admirable and unflattering dimensions of Jay Gatsby in F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby.
Nick is the main narrator of the novel (remember, though, that Jordan's narration intervenes for a short while in chapter 4). As the main narrator, his is the most influential voice of the novel. If Nick admires Gatsby, it is natural for us to admire him too.
From the very beginning of the novel, Nick establishes himself as being a trustworthy, intelligent and highly moral person, so we trust his judgment.
"…there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life…"
"[he had] an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person…"
"They're a rotten crowd…you're worth the whole damn bunch put together."
This final declaration — made directly to Gatsby — is perhaps the most powerful endorsement in the novel. Nick's moral authority lends enormous weight to this judgment, and it shapes how we feel about Gatsby's fate.
We gain an insight into the early life of Gatsby at the end of the novel, when Mr Gatz shows Nick his son's diary. What do YOU think of Gatsby's transformation from an unfashionable, working class Midwest farm-boy to a member of West Egg's nouveau riche?
The diary reveals a young man of extraordinary discipline and ambition — a 'better vision of himself' pursued with determination and tenacity. You should certainly comment on the positivity of this self-improvement drive.
The 'owl-eyed man' exclaims in wonder: "Absolutely real – have pages and everything. I thought they'd be a nice durable cardboard." This highlights the idea of his wanting to transform himself from what he once was. The Egg crowd would not expect this kind of attention to detail in things such as books.
Think about how he protects Daisy in the aftermath of the accident. He is willing to take the blame for Myrtle's death — a decision which leads directly to his own death. He then stands guard outside Daisy's house all night to make sure that she isn't bullied by Tom over the incident at the Plaza.
"'I want to wait here till Daisy goes to bed. Good night, old sport.' He put his hands in his coat pockets and turned back eagerly to the scrutiny of the house, as though my presence marred the sacredness of the vigil. So I walked away and left him standing there in the moonlight – watching over nothing."
Some critics see Gatsby as a 'Christ-figure'. He lays down his life for Daisy at the end of the novel. He shoulders a mattress as he walks towards the pool, where he is shot by George Wilson.
This mirrors the image of Christ carrying his cross towards Calvary, the place of his crucifixion. His self-sacrifice — however misplaced — is presented as genuinely noble in its intent.
His idealism is his most famous quality — connecting directly to the American Dream itself: the quest for self-improvement, material stability, a better vision.
The symbolism of the green light is equal to the symbolism of the American Dream. Gatsby's pursuit of Daisy is equal to the general human pursuit of dreams and happiness.
Gatsby is conveyed as being just like us — an Everyman, doomed to fail, but trying anyway. This is the part of the novel when our sympathy and admiration for him is at its height.
"…I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors' eyes – a fresh, green breast of the new world… Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic 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 novel ends on a very positive note. Nick acknowledges that we make mistakes in our pursuit of dreams — they "elude" us — but that we fight on anyway, just like Gatsby. Like Gatsby, we are all "borne back ceaselessly into the past" whenever we dare to dream. But keep asking yourself: is there a fine line to be drawn between idealism and self-delusion?
Gatsby 'represented everything for which [Nick] had an unaffected scorn.'
His nefarious business dealings taint his success and raise questions about the moral cost of the American Dream.
Nothing about him is 'real' for some readers — he is a façade, a performance, a manufactured identity.
He wastes his life on an empty dream, pursuing Daisy long after it is clear she sees no future in their relationship.
Nick imagines Gatsby's epiphanies — we cannot know if his tragic insightfulness is real or constructed by a sympathetic narrator.
We are told on the opening page that Gatsby 'represented everything for which [he] had an unaffected scorn.'
This is a striking and often overlooked detail. The very narrator who praises Gatsby so effusively also opens the novel by distancing himself from everything Gatsby stands for. This tension is central to how we read Nick's reliability — and how we read Gatsby himself.
How do we reconcile Nick's opening scorn with his later admiration? Does Nick change his mind over the course of the novel, or does he hold both views simultaneously? What does this tell us about the complexity of Gatsby as a character — and about Nick as a narrator?
Gossip about Gatsby alerts us to his nefarious business deals. Although a lot of this we can easily disregard — that he is a relation of Kaiser Wilhelm, for example — there is much truth in some of the more serious gossip.
Even Nick observes that Gatsby looks 'as if he had killed a man'. This is not merely a figure of speech — it registers genuine unease in the most morally reliable character in the novel.
The extent of his crimes is revealed. His wealth, his parties, his shirts — all of it is built on a criminal foundation. His success is, in a very real sense, 'dirty'.
This is certainly true of Gatsby, but the trick is to work out how far we can criticise him for this. How important is truth anyway? Do we admire him for the quality of his stage-act, or criticise him for causing his own downfall?
Think carefully about the lies that he told, and judge him separately. What, for example, might be the moral difference between his lie about where he was born and his lie to Daisy about his supposed wealth? Through his lies, he represents the façade of life — nothing about him is 'real' for some readers.
How far do you agree with Nick, then, that there was 'something about him' that made this shallowness unimportant? Is the performance itself a kind of art — or is it simply deception? Your answer will shape your entire reading of the novel.
Towards the end of the novel, the reader — and Nick himself — is left wondering why Gatsby pursues Daisy when it is patently clear that she sees no future in their relationship. We eventually feel like giving him a good shake after the crash… but Gatsby simply keeps on believing in the future, until right before he dies.
Is he a blind fool who cannot open his eyes to the truth? Does his refusal to accept reality make him pitiable rather than admirable?
Or do you see him, in some sense, as heroic for nobly pursuing what he believed in? Is his hero-quest heroic or shambolic?
Look again at the passages in the novel that give Gatsby his tragic, poetic status. Passages drawn from the end of the novel — where he has his epiphany in the swimming pool, for example, and when Nick muses over how Gatsby must have felt when he saw Daisy's green light for the first time.
"He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is…"
Note the word must have. Nick is not reporting fact — he is constructing a poetic interior life for Gatsby that we cannot verify.
"I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock…his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it…"
Again: I thought of and must have seemed. These are imaginative projections, not witnessed truths.
We do not know for certain that Gatsby realised how empty and shallow Daisy was before his death. We also cannot know for sure whether the green light had any real poetic significance for him.
These passages from the novel invest Gatsby with a tragic insightfulness — but we cannot know if this insightfulness is for real, or whether it has been manufactured by a sympathetic narrator. This is perhaps the most destabilising critical question the novel poses.
THINGS WE ADMIRE ABOUT GATSBY