When The Great Gatsby was first published, in 1925, reviews were mixed.
H.L. Mencken called it "no more than a glorified anecdote". L.P.
Hartley, author of The Go-Between, thought Fitzgerald deserved "a good
shaking" "The Great Gatsby is evidently not a satire; but one would like
to think that Mr Fitzgerald's heart is not in it, that it is a piece of
mere naughtiness." Yet, gradually the book came to be seen as one of the
greatest - if not the greatest - of American novels. Why? What is it
that makes this story of a petty hoodlum so compelling? Why has a novel
so intimately rooted in its own time "lasted" into ours? What is it that
posterity, eight decades later, finds so fascinating in this chronicle
of the long-gone "Jazz Age", flappers, speakeasies and wild parties? It
is, after all, scarcely a novel at all, more a long short story. But it
has a power out of all proportion to its length. It is beautifully
written, making it feel even shorter than it is, and is full of haunting
imagery. It is also, perhaps, the most vivid literary evocation of the
"Great American Dream", about which it is profoundly sceptical, as it is
about dreams generally. In the end, however, as D.H. Lawrence would put
it, it is "on the side of life". Gatsby's dream may be impossible, so
much so that the book can end in no other way than with his death, but
up to a point he is redeemed by it and by the tenacity with which he
clings to it. It is this that makes the novel so moving and so haunting.
