The Great Gatsby Book Reviews 소설 & 이야기

"Shakespeare happens to be one of my favorite novelists." Eniola laughed in disbelief. "Like you actually read Shakespeare? Most guys don't give a shit about his works." "I'm not most guys," he pointed out. "How many times have you read this?" she asked, holding a worn copy of F. Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby'. "I don't know," Dayo shrugged. "Several times, I guess. I just love the mystery that surrounds the main character. No one really knows much about him." Eniola grinned. "Gatsby's obsession with Daisy has me torn between deciding if he was simply naïve or just so blinded by his desires." she voiced out.

"Right now, we have The Great Gatsby to attend to." Xalia gave me a playful, narrowed-eyes look but finally pulled out her notebook. "Fine. But you aren't getting away with this after class." I tuned her out, opening my copy of the novel. Staring down at the pages, I couldn't help but feel a dark sense of irony. Here we were, studying a book about a man whose entire luxurious life was built on a massive, carefully crafted lie—someone who recreated himself just to get the girl he wanted. It hit entirely too close to home. I stared at the green light on Gatsby's dock in the text, feeling like my own fake future was about to slip right through my fingers.

***ESTHER*** I sit in the chair in the garden in front of the university. Honestly, I don’t know what do I want from Caden. I hate him coming nearer to me. It makes me feel like he is going to read everything that I have been hiding from everyone but the uninteresting fact is that I hate him when I told him to stay completely away from me. What does my heart want actually? I unpack my bag and take out a book from my bag. It’s THE GREAT GATSBY. I have read this book several times and every time, I read this book, my heart cries for Jay Gatsby. But I don’t think I can do that anymore.

I mean with Ancient English and all, it all just seems boring. But reading “the great gatsby” is more interesting than I thought. I was deeply engrossed in the book when I felt a tap on my shoulder, I flinched and sprang my head up to meet the angry gaze of Na..Nathan? “Nathan? What are you doing here?” I was quite bewildered because Nathan is the last person to be seen in a library. Like most typical boys, He hates novels. “I knew I would find you here.” That makes more sense, he came for me.

She stopped abruptly, then turned to me, “What are your favourites? I mean, apart from Pride and Prejudice. I tilted my head, “You want to know?” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and I wished I had noticed it first. “Tolstoy, Fitzgerald, and Baldwin.” “The Great Gatsby?” She asked, “Of course, you're the type of man who'll admire Gatsby. Rich, brilliant but lonely as hell.” She went on a full rant about Gatsby then, her hands gesturing animatedly, and I never wanted her to stop.

with African literature " Come one babe , I trust you , you are going to smash it really hard so don't fret, you are going to nail it " he reassured her " Well Mirabel and I chose to review Open City by Teju Cole and The great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald, these books are marvelous I had mad fun while reading them because Mirabel kept making fun of the characters, I also enjoyed how she imitated most of them' she explained in an excited tone. "Wait, why are you so happy?" he asked. " I have a literature review class tomorrow , is that not enough reason to be happy?" she said. "I love the books you chose by the way, they are good reads" he said. "Thank youuuuu," she said. "Baby girl, in as m

But I really wasn't ready to go inside and face my fears. “I'll be right back.” “Take your time.” Zeke says, pulling out a thin, paperback book from his pocket. I notice the title and smile when I see that he is reading The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. “I have my book to keep me occupied.” “It's a pretty good book.” I tell him with a smile. “It must be. This is my fourth time reading it.” He tells me with a grin and I chuckle. He and I are so much alike. I reread my favorite books too; I've read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte six times.

“You’re brutal. Correct, but brutal.” By 4:00 PM, the gifts had escalated to the absurd. A first edition of The Great Gatsby—because I had once mentioned I liked the tragedy of it. A set of Japanese calligraphy pens—because I liked to doodle on my scripts. A box of pastries from a bakery in Paris—flown in fresh that morning. “Okay, the croissants stay,” Katherine declared, shielding the pastry box with her body. “I have moral boundaries, and wasting French butter crosses them.”

CHAPTER 1 — THE LATE RETURN I really shouldn’t have been there after closing time. The sign on the door already read “Closed” in elegant gold letters, and the lights inside Marcus Vale’s bookstore were dimmed to that soft amber glow he always left on for the night. I stood outside for a full minute, debating whether to just slip the book through the mail slot and run. But the book was rare — a 1923 first edition of The Great Gatsby with handwritten notes in the margins, and I couldn’t risk damaging it.

The books on the shelf were neatly arranged but the frayed edges and the little tears on the bottom of most of the books gave out that they’d been read a couple times. Adrian didn't particularly strike me as someone who would love to read but I guess you can't always judge a person by their outward appearance. I traced my fingers along the spines, the titles ranging widely from classic literature, to mindset guides then to business strategy books. One title in particular caught my eye and I pulled it out : Good to Great by Jim Collins. I flipped through the pages not so sure of what I was looking for, because I wasn't interested in reading the book at the time, but it was an appropriate dist