I think the re-invention thing is central -- its American-ness. In India, you are born into a caste, and that is that. England is still very very class-conscious. Part of what Rushdie is getting at in "Fury", I think, is that America is far more class-conscious than we like to admit. Jay Gatsby bounced, but it was a temporary bounce, doomed to failure.
We might want to make a distinction between whatever changes took place in Gatsby's life, as a result of his gaining wealth, and the concept of re-inventing oneself.
Gatsby was living in the 20s, maybe the 30s. In America there has always been social mobility for those who made lots of money. The movement into wealth brought with it the privilege of new kinds of behaviors and the the feeling that the attainment of wealth set one off as a superior being.
I think this is something different than the idea of re-inventing oneself. I'm not a sociologist and have not traced the origin of the concept. But the first time I think I heard it was in connection with publicity about the celebrity Madona. I read somewhere that every time she began to slip in popularity, she somehow managed to re-invent herself and become popular again. So, to me, this word, as I originally saw it used, meant that a failing celebrity decided what the public wanted, and then became that thing in order to gain favor with the public.
I strikes me that the word might also have an application in the self-help and success religion business, where people are urged to change their whole way of thinking in order to attain success.
I am just saying that I think the concept of the re-invention of the self is a newer concept and something different than the older concept of getting rich via hard work or through special know-how, which I think may have been more the paradigm in Gatsby's day.
I may easily be wrong about this and will stand corrected if others have a better knowledge of the use of that work than I have. I am neither a wordoligist nor a cultural historian.
No, I think Sozobe's right in pointing out that the notion of becoming something other than what you were at birth is a heady (not to say confusing) idea in India or the UK of the pre-WW II era.
As to the phrase 'reinventing' onself, it probably wasn't coined until later than The Great Gatsby. But the idea itself, apart from the choice of words, is certainly dyed-in-the-wool American. It applies to more than just celebrities. It implies not only a change in socio-economic status but a makeover of one's entire image.
Well, Oh Merry One, I freely acknowledge that this is one of those slippery semantic arguments, but I'd say that Gatsby got rich and took on the airs of his new status.
John Doe, who finds himself to be disliked, unemployable, avoided and without the lady of his dreams, and who decides to do something about it, to wit: he tinkers with his personality, learns to smile, make with a little flattery, express his appreciation, switches from greasy kid stuff to blow dry, buys snazzy new threads, and takes a Dale Carnegie course, that man may be said to have re-invented himself. After all the expense, he may actually be a good bit poorer than he was in his earlier incarnation. I still kind of think the re-invention concept comes along a little later than the Gatsby phenomenon and has a different connotation.
So, Merry Andrew, give me one more reply before we decide we've said about all that's needed. I promise not to get mad.
As an afterthought: I cannot speak to what Rushdie thinks, not having read Fury, but I think America is very class conscious.
Ah, well, Hazlitt, that's a new can of creepy-crawly worms you're opening now. I quite agree that America is very class conscious. But, in general, there is only one criterion for membership in a given class -- socio-economic status. In the very highest of these strata, i.e. "old money" upper class, ethnic and family pedigree also become important but few of us mere mortals ever get to rub elbows at length with these folk. (We won't even go into the concept of "caste", a sorting of people based strictly on racial lines in the USA.)
As for the phenomenon of "re-invention," I don't think that you and I are in any real disagreement at all. I freely admit that the word itself probably wasn't coined till well after Gatsby's time. All I'm saying is that the phenomenon itself is very American and that it is this sense of 'American-ness' which attracts Salmon Rushdie's attention to it and, thence, to Gatsby as a paradigm.
Very very much in agreement, Merry Andrew.
In terms of money, I think that old money and nouveau riche are two very different things, class-wise, and one cannot become "old money" in a single lifetime, so even in America, one can only remake oneself so far.
M.A. & Soz, agreed (pretty much).
After I wrote my last reply, I got to thinking that the interesting thing is that we are probably trying to define something that is a kind of moving target. That is , I think, the re-invention concept is a cultural phenomenon that is currently in development and is probably ill defined in everyone's though.
I don't think it's possible to identify "the Great American Novel"-- the one which best defines America or implies what it is to be American. Nor do I think, by it's nature, the novel is even the proper medium for depicting such universality. This is primarily the mandate of epic poetry. In this regard, I would suggest that Leaves of Grass is the book which comes nearest in scope to capturing America. It encompasses the spirit of the nation in a way no novel does, and it remains timelessly relevant.
How Gatsby obtained his wealth is one of the most important aspects of the novel. That's as timely today as it was when Fitzgerald wrote the book. That's been the problems with the films made of the book -- they don't plunge into the depths of meaning in the narrative but skirt around the surface. There's enough symbolism in the book for ten novels.
If I had to pick the paradignatic American novel, I would choose one of Faulkner's--either LIGHT IN AUGUST or ABSOLOM, ABSOLOM. Why? Because Faulkner deals brilliantly with the key American dilemma--race. ABSOLOM is a difficult book to read, ceratinly compared to GATSBY which goes down like a gumdrop, but it is far more profound in its vision of racism, violence, and the making of the South. It also dramatizes history in progress, telling the story of the Deep South before and after the Civil War. LIGHT IN AUGUST is an easier read but is equally superb. Either book seems to me to be artistically superior to GATSBY, which is charming but ultimately minor.
Is it possible to choose "the great American novel"? America changes all the time in its cultural make-up. There's a sound of a door closing in the phrase "the great American novel." I think I'd rather have a series of terrific parties for American writing over the decades and centuries. Lots of applause! Plenty beer! The best fireworks!... And then go home and read some more, not forgetting novels from Japan and Egypt and Colombia and France and Turkey and... all those writers we influence and who influence us.
What's you choice, Setanta?
It's too close to call for me:
Faulkner "The Sound and the Fury"
Steinbeck "The Grapes of Wrath"
Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby"
Sinclair "Main Street"
Any good Faulkner novel is greater than any good Steinbeck novel...
