A Son of the Rock

Everyman’s Library, 1991, 150 p, plus 22p Introduction by Malcolm Bradbury, 2 p Select Bibliography and 9 p Chronology. First published 1925.

I had had this on my tbr pile for years without ever getting round to it. I might still not have had it not been on both the Guardian’s list of 100 Best Novels, where it was no 11, and also in the readers’ list (16 [equal]).

It’s a bit of an odd experience to read a book held in such regard: especially if you’ve seen a film made from it (in my case the one starring Robert Redford.) In this instance it was also dispiriting. Few, if any, of the characters have any redeeming features.

Gatsby, born Jimmy Gatz, is blinded to just about all else – especially caution – by his obsession with Daisy Buchanan, who is herself narcissistic, superficial and, strange as that may seem given his bootlegging activities, actually unworthy of him. Her diffidence makes her more of an absence in the book than an active participant. Even her crucial contribution to the story, the driving of the car whose fatal encounter precipitates the denouement, occurs outwith the direct narrative. Her husband Tom is nothing but a bully, a racist and white supremacist, subscriber to the great replacement theory (yes in the1920s,) who sees racial intermarriage as the end of civilisation and treats his mistress Myrtle Wilson with casual violence. Myrtle’s husband George is merely a catspaw.

Daisy’s friend Jordan Baker, and our narrator Nick Carraway’s sometime girlfriend (a relationship always somewhat tenuous,) seems to be present only for purposes of information dumping.

Nothing much is revealed of Carraway himself, a very un-USian protagonist in that he affects little in the story and only reacts to what is around him. (That last is not a criticism, by the way; they also serve.)

There is a curious statement in, “Americans, while willing, even eager, to be serfs, have always been obstinate about being peasantry.”

I note that a door marked, ‘The Swastika Holding Company’ reads now a little differently than it would have done in 1925.

I wouldn’t rate this anywhere near my top 100 reads. It may be it is as much – perhaps more – to be noted for its highlighting of the vacuousness and indifference bordering on callousness of the monied during what was called the Jazz Age as for any literary merit. But then the monied are vacuous and indifferent in any age, you only have to witness our own, where callousness seems endemic.

Sensitivity note: ‘kike’, ‘three modish negroes, two bucks and a girl’, ‘a small flat-nosed Jew’, ‘a lovely Jewess’.

Pedant’s corner:- “‘you’d of thought,’ ‘he’d of got me’ and ‘appendicitus’” (spoken by Mrs Wilson or her sister, so possibly an attempt to render a lack of education: ‘you’d’ve thought,’ he’d’ve got me,’ ‘appendicitis’,) “had reached a crescendo” (a crescendo is the rise, not its peak,) caravansary (caravanserai.)