The Great Gatsby (1925) by F. Scott Fitzgerald
I couldn’t find anything to like about this book. I know that it’s a classic and that it captures the spirit of the disillusionment of the Jazz Age, but it’s really quite a depressing book. It’s about a young man in a mental asylum reliving a brief moment of interest and glory that basically gave him PTSD because everyone treated each other so badly, regardless of money, love or fame. Or, as a brilliant Tumblr-user put it, ‘I’m uncomfortable with your personal drama and I want to go home: the Nick Carraway story’.
Having said all that, this novel’s intention is to capture the disillusionment of that time, and it is a very disillusioning story, so I suppose it does what it set out to do very well. Frankly, I preferred the movie, but that was mainly because I love Baz Luhrmann.