“So who’s your favorite author?” I guess you figured since all we knew about each other was that we shared a similar goal to pursue nonconformity, a few brief introductory questions were not totally out of the ordinary. (Although, in retrospect, I do not think normal people begin with “Who is your favorite author?”) Nevertheless, I answered, “Fitzgerald.” A look of disinterest and revived curiosity fused together on your face,and I tried to solve the puzzle before you could criticize me for being cliche. “I assure you that I am enamored with The Great Gatsby for more figurative reasons. It is much more than a story involving a scandalous love triangle and ostentatious parties; it is call for the revival of the true American Dream. You see, Fitzgerald’s critical observation of the upper echelon and his juxtaposition of the Valley of Ashes and the West and East Egg islands enthralled me.” “What exactly is enthralling about the latter?” …show more content…
There was some annoyance, but that was quickly countered by the realization that you cared about my input. You cared in general. No one had ever delved too deep into these conversations with me. You reminded me of Greg in that moment. “It fascinates me, but as someone who abhors materialism and its impact, I would not call it my favorite. Hedonism and industrialization predominated that glorious epoch, and people squandered their money and Wall Street inhaled the masses. This poor earth had to suffer the material demands of consumerist people and no one appreciated the abstract anymore. People were too busy partying and drinking to look at Mother Nature and kiss her with gratitude for bearing such a lovely home. They paved over her grass and erected factories producing pollution …” I grew weary and spiteful of the world and began to hate everyone in that coffeehouse. I wanted to pout, but nothing would have changed. That’s what I admitted to