Although I never studied The Great Gatsby in school, I first read it in secondary school. Revisiting it now at 23, I found that it resonated with me much more this time around. I had always admired its beautiful prose, but this time, my understanding of its historical context—the opulence and vapid excess of the Jazz Age, the desperation for success, the rigid class structures, the role of women in 1930s society, and the futility of the American Dream—made the novel even more compelling.

Gatsby’s relentless pursuit of Daisy (and all she represents) mirrors Fitzgerald’s own longing for success and validation, both consumed by an unattainable ideal. The novel lays bare the emptiness of extreme wealth, showing how those born into privilege, like Tom and Daisy, coast through life without consequence, while Gatsby—self-made yet forever an outsider—meets a tragic end. And yet, despite Gatsby’s delusions, Nick tells him, "You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together." Fitzgerald may expose how the game is rigged, but he still clings to the idea that the dream, however flawed, is worth chasing. Why? Because he has no choice but to do so. Fitzgerald was chasing the same things himself! Brilliant stuff.