Arthur Miller’s “Tragedy and the Common Man”
Month: October 2023
I just recently finished reading Catch Me If You Can, the indulgent memoir of ex-con Frank Abagnale Jr. and I admit I could not keep myself from thinking of The Great Gatsby while doing so. I set about this journey after watching the movie with the same name. It stars Leonardo DiCaprio as the young con artist, and, in my opinion, it is one of the best films I have ever seen.
As I watched, I could not help but see Jay Gatsby reflected in the eyes of DiCaprio’s the “Skywayman.” The two characters are extremally similar, I had come to find. Both are ultimately in pursuit of the American Dream, they want wealth, prestige, and recognition more than anything. Both, additionally, strive to achieve the American Dream though illegal means. Both James Gatz and Frank Abagnale meticulously craft new shinny identities for themselves and come to, though illegally, amass an unthinkable amount of money.
These are just a few similarities I found between the two characters, one a bootlegger and the other a con artist, but they nevertheless showed me that the tale of the American Dream that Fitzgerald crafts isn’t confined to only his novel. Instead it is one that we have seen before and one that a man like Frank Abagnale actually lived. It isn’t a far off story, but one that is all too real, and I can’t help but wonder what these similarities say about the nature of the American Dream…
It seems in my exploration of the two books (and their film adaptations) that the characters of Leonard DiCaprio share a yearning for the American Dream, a dream they can only get by breaking the American laws. Perhaps it is this not so pretty truth that underscores DiCaprio’s performances and allows them to transcend the screen.
On the eve of the Mega Millions drawing, an event I don’t actually care for but came up in a late night conversation, I can not help but wonder what it means about America.
A gamble, a game of chance, a waste of money. Whatever you’d like to call it, the Mega Millions is a tradition that has gone on far longer than I would have ever guessed. In my mind, it’s a useless game played by people who are bound to walk away upset yet always come back for more, and it is this dedication that baffles me. With such a small chance of winning, why waste money on a ticket? Why, even, waste your breath?
While pondering this I came to the conclusion that it must mean something more than a slight chance of winning it big, and, incidentally, my mind slipped to The Great Gatsby and the American Dream.
My father is one of the people who always buys a ticket. Like Gatsby, there has always been a distinct optimism to him and every time he walks out of the convenient store, he is sure he will wake up a millionaire. He never has, yet still he continues to play and each time he reminisces about what he would do if he did. Would he quit his job? Travel the world? Would he invest? He always gives the same answers, giving voice to dreams he has held tight to for years.
I think it is this period of reminiscing about what could be, the promise, however small, of such hope that is what keeps people like my father from giving up on the lottery. In a way, it is their own version of the American Dream (lottery tickets are a quite American tradition, anyway). Like the American Dream, the lottery offers hope that someday it can all be better, that you too can stumble into wealth and the money spent on tickets will one day be worth it.
Coming to this conclusion, I imagine a young Gatsby, uniformed and with his soldiers pension in hand, waiting at a convenient store counter for his pick of a lottery ticket. When he gets it, he secures it carefully in his pocket, convinced he will win this time and reminiscing about what he would do if he did.
I have always had this theory that certain book characters have to die– that the narrative relies so heavily upon them and they are so integral to the story that an author can not release them to the reader’s imagination.
To me, Gatsby fits this category, if not forms it entirely. The namesake of the novel, Gatsby is what guides the plot forward, first with the suspense of the mysterious man next door and then with his pursuit for love. He draws us in with his grand displays of wealth, blind idealism, and cinematic backstory. As readers, we can not help but want more and find ourselves disappointed when we are denied it.
By the novel’s end, Gatsby is dead and, though I might feel a certain sadness at his death, there is no other end that I can conceptualize. Jay Gatsby is a man of mystery, but of mystery that is held tightly in check by Fitzgerald. As a reader it is hard to imagine Gatsby beyond the confines of the book. Gatsby isn’t the type of character you can see going on with his life, settling down, and growing old. He has no purpose other than being exactly what he is and where he is. He has done what he was made to do, and he can do nothing more. And so he has to die.
I do not believe that this is what compelled Fitzgerald to give Gatsby the end that he did. I can not pretend to know what was going on in his writer’s brain– perhaps he was at a loss and chose the easy way out or perhaps he wanted to emulate Wharton’s The House of Mirth with its tragic ending. We will never know exactly why Fitzgerald killed Gatsby, but I will say that to me, both a reader and a writer, it seems the only ending that makes sense because without Fitzgerald, Gatsby can not go on.