F. Scott Fitzgerald Gatsby and the Lost Generation

F. Scott Fitzgerald – A Bio “The Great Gatsby does not proclaim the nobility of the human spirit; it is not politically correct; it does not reveal how to solve the problems of life; it delivers no fashionable or comforting messages. It is just a masterpiece.” Matthew J. Bruccoli

F. Scott Fitzgerald – A Bio Born in 1896 in St. Paul, Minnesota An indifferent scholar, but dedicated to writing Sent to expensive boarding school in New Jersey Said that he felt like “one of the poorest boys in a rich boys’ school.” Grades not good enough for Princeton He persuaded the school authorities to admit him Opened his eyes to the “rich and unprejudiced” East after his upbringing in the “closed and conservative” Midwest

F. Scott Fitzgerald – A Bio Enlisted in the Army in 1917 – WWI was raging Not a very good officer – never made it to the front Drew from his personal life for Gatsby and Daisy’s relationship Gatsby published in 1925 Didn’t meet with the success he had hoped Died of a heart attack in 1940

The Lost Generation Fitzgerald’s Contemporaries Ernest Hemingway (The Sun Also Rises) John Dos Passos (The Big Money) Theodore Dreiser (Sister Carrie) Sinclair Lewis (Elmer Gantry) William Faulkner (The Sound and the Fury)

The Lost Generation Lived through horror of the “War to End All Wars” Characterized by a deep rift with their elder generation Fitzgerald’s generation felt an absolute break with the standards and ideals with their elders Why?

The Lost Generation Blamed parents for ills in the world Prohibition World War I Scandals of the era Anger, Betrayal, Loss of Innocence Rebellious Literature

The Great Gatsby The Great Gatsby is built upon the language of rebellion, of societal challenge. In each group, list as many themes as possible in two minutes. Be prepared to share your ideas.

Conflicts East vs. West Reality vs. Illusion Haves vs. Have-nots Urban vs. Rural Knowledge vs. Ignorance Apathy vs. Action

Richard Corey by Edwin Arlington Robinson Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked. And he was rich—yes, richer than a king, And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head.

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. ---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

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