The Great Gatsby should be seen as a testament of what someone can accomplish just by having the sheer will to attain it. Gatsby literally dreamed and affirmed himself into success. Everyone is capable of doing the same thing, but most are fearful or lack vision.
What does an angst-ridden comedienne tackling abortion onstage and in her personal life, a closeted heir to a vast fortune with a yen for Olympic-bound wrestlers, and a concierge bedding septuagenarians have in common? They are all characters in films selected by the curators of the Museum of Modern Art.
"And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer, Fitzgerald in The Great Gatsby.
You needn't be by the sea to read it, of course, for you can see and smell and almost taste the Mediterranean, wherever you are, thanks to Fitzgerald's magical words.
That Fitzgerald intended some of the stories in Taps at Reveille to be brutal and unpleasant is clear. The title itself indicates that we wake up to death. T It's also unsurprising to find Fitzgerald could use words as weapons, coarse language to create.
Even if you've seen the movie remake, you need to pick up this novel.
It takes a lot of courage to make a statement about current society, especially when the criticism could be equated to biting the hand that feeds you.
A first impression goes a long way. That's true with people, and I think it's also true with books. When I'm choosing a new book, once I get past the title and the author, it's the first line--or first few lines--that make the decision for me.
"Moby Dick" Herman Melville "Call me the whale guy a hansom cab Steve Ishmael." "The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway "He was an old man ...
All the films I've mentioned deal with the idea of projection. The characters ask themselves: What kind of image am I projecting? How do people see me?
The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) Cast includes: Leonardo DiCaprio (The Great Gatsby), Jonah Hill (Moneyball), Margot Robbie (About Time), Matthew McCona...
It's the time of year when critics release their lists of the year's best films. It feels like a competitive sport -- or a provocation, which all of these lists are, by nature. As in: "This is my list of the best films. If you don't agree, you're wrong."
What is it about The Great Gatsby that makes it so charming? How has a book written in the early 1920s withstood the trials of time nearly 90 years in the making?
Today we are well accustomed to having some of the most enduring names in American letters long associated with The New Yorker: John Updike, appearing there for nearly sixty years; E. B. White; James Thurber; John Cheever; Rachel Carson; John McPhee; and many more. However, The New Yorker was a newcomer in 1925.
In one sense, actor Bruce Dern is an interviewer's dream: He's pithy, quotable and voluble. In another sense, Dern is an interviewer's nightmare: You ask one question and never get the chance to ask another, because he's got so much to say.
Murakami's books have for me served as a commentary on Gatsby. I read his work as if with a Gatsby divining rod, alert to allusions embedded in his narratives, which confirm my understanding of the classic.