Jay Gatsby

My friend Alcott and I go to the movies almost every week. We meet every Wednesday and we go to the Golden Nugget and get turkey club sandwiches and then usually, we'll go to the movies.

We've been seeing the previews for Gatsby for FOREVER. It's really been a long time, so, we're headed there tomorrow.

I haven't read Gatsby in a really long time. Maybe even schooldays, I remember little. Just images. So on Sunday Alcott and I each went and bought our bandwagon copy of Gatsby.

And it is something. I mean, I'm the first one to laugh when I realize how great a classic is, I mean, of course it is, that's why it's a classic. But mainlining Gatsby in the past 24 hours I'm just blown away. That F. Scott, he was really something.

Here's one of my favorite parts:

The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room, and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.

I mean, COME ON. Is that a beautiful passage OR WHAT? Oh my god I love it. The whole books is like this, one sentence like that after another. I'm so glad I took these couple of days to read it before the movie, totally worth it.

And then you, my lovely blog readers wonder, "Hey Margaret, we've been hearing all about your Buddha and such, but what about that BOOK? That novel you were going write?"

Yes indeed. What about the book.