The Great Gatsby

by F. Scott Fitzgerald

I'm sorry that this book, less than 200 pages long, took me half a year to read. I'm sorry that my paperback copy was lost under my couch for about two months of that time. I'm sorry that, even though I was two-thirds of the way through it, I wasn't that motivated to look for it when it was lost. I'm sorry that I don't like the writing of F. Scott Fitzgerald as much as the rest of the free world. And I'm sorry that I wish I would fall under the spell of The Great everyone else seemingly has...but despite two attempts (one in high school), I just never have. I'm sorry I had to turn to the Internet to read some literary cheat-sheets after I had finished The Great Gatsby to be certain I had understood it. I'm sorry I just don't recognize Fitzgerald's characters; I never have.

I'm sorry now that I thought I would be done with the 100 novels of this project in 2017. I'm sorry my motivation is flagging, realizing the books I liked best are behind me. And most of all, I'm sorry the final book coming up is what it is; I don't know how (if?) I'll get through it.

Oh, yes: One thing I'm glad for? I'm glad I neither have to recapitulate nor analyze The Great Gatsby here, since everybody else has already read it and done those things ad nauseam. So, thanks, everybody.