I re-read this book last night (in order to be well-equipped for the Gatsby Garden Party I will be attending this Sunday) and (not only came up with something smart to say in this review at last but) had a few revelations. This book really stuck with me because I developed a very special relationship with the text itself. I realize how shallow I was when I first read it. This book isn't about love. It's about the idea of being in love. As in, Gatsby isn't in love with Daisy. He's in love with the idea of loving Daisy. He doesn't want to form a relationship with Daisy either. He has this imaginary perception on how he wants their relationship to work out─the way it was when they had first met. Gatsby doesn't want a new relationship with Daisy, no. He wants to re-create the relationship he's formed with her in his mind, and put it into real-time. Yes, Gatsby wants to love Daisy, but he also wants to turn back the time to when he did love Daisy. He wants that love and wishes to recreate it, and he's been living through that relationship in his mind all his life to the point where he isn't in love with Daisy anymore─as she's a completely shallow, money loving trophy wife─he's merely in love with the idea of Daisy, with the idea of loving Daisy, with the idea of loving one so shallow and vain. Tom isn't in love with Daisy either. He's in love with the idea of having a wife. He's in love with the idea of a 'trophy wife.' Just as Nick isn't in (platonic) love with Gatsby either, he's in love with the idea of recreating yourself, the idea of simply choosing a new identity and living a life based on the connotations that identity is given by society, by yourself, and by the entire human race. That's why this book stuck with me. See, in order to love the Great Gatsby you have to be in love with the text, the prose and especially the messages and hints behind the text. I suppose. But Fitzgerald's true message is hid in the last lines of the book (Or so I perceived it): Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter—to-morrow 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. Part of Review where reviewer rambles on about nonsensical things I guess the reason as to why people may hate this book is because they had to analyze it at school, or something along the lines of that. Fortunately, I live in Canada and here we focused on 'Canadian Literature,' so I particularly enjoyed this. Although, I wish we did studies on American Literature here too, American literature is so much cooler than Canadian Literature. (But that's just my opinion). Part of review where the reviewer can't think of a proper way to end the review WELL. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GO TO BOOKSTORE. BUY BOOK. OPEN BOOK. READ BOOK. YOU'RE WELCOME.