A few miles beyond Washington, D.C., in a lively Maryland suburb known as Rockville, there lies a modest cemetery adjacent to a Catholic church. Within its grounds stands a gravestone featuring two names: Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald and Zelda Sayre. This is the eternal resting spot of the author F. Scott Fitzgerald and his spouse.
Long ago, it appears, there was some controversy regarding their presence in a Catholic cemetery as Fitzgerald, although brought up in the Catholic faith, did not actively observe his religion and lived a well-known chaotic lifestyle. The matter was eventually resolved by Cardinal William Baum, who was the archbishop of Washington at the time, giving his consent and remarked about the renowned writer that the figures in his narratives are “engaged in this grand drama, searching for God and seeking love.”
A multifaceted inheritance: The Great Gatsby
That certainly was a beautiful homage, yet it’s a reach to understand how it connects to Fitzgerald’s most famous work, “The Great Gatsby.” First released in 1925, the novel merits thoughtful consideration as its centennial draws near.
Writing in “The Paris Review,” critic Wesley Morris comments on “the harsh unpleasantness of almost every character” in the narrative, with the singular exception of the titular figure. The intricately crafted storyline centers on Jay Gatsby’s futile quest for Daisy Buchanan, an exceedingly narcissistic socialite of high esteem whom Gatsby became infatuated with before being deployed abroad as a second lieutenant during World War I.
Upon returning from the war, Gatsby discovers her wed to a wealthy brute named Tom Buchanan. Gatsby accumulates his own fortune (reportedly through bootlegging — as it was the time of Prohibition, indeed) and embarks on a quest for Daisy, whom he follows to the Buchanan residence on Long Island. There, the heartbreaking tale unfolds against the backdrop of the affluent mansions.
Aside from the narrator Nick Carraway, a fellow student of Buchanan at Yale, the sole honorable character in the narrative is Gatsby, whom Fitzgerald (an alumnus of Princeton) illustrates as an untainted soul navigating through a tide of corruption.
This is mandated by the ethical message Fitzgerald is conveying. For, oddly enough, “The Great Gatsby” serves as a moral narrative, propelled by the juxtaposition between Gatsby’s intrinsic virtue and the frigid self-interest of the Buchanans — a characteristic also found in the exploitative attendees who, with or without formal invitations, crowd Gatsby’s extravagant gatherings (which the host himself avoids) while consuming his illicit alcohol and conversing about him.
An introspection of the vibrant twenties and what followed
“The Great Gatsby” is perhaps most recognized for its portrayal of the Roaring Twenties. However, there is an additional aspect at play. The core lesson of this morality story revolves around the clash between the purity of the American West, which is the backdrop of Gatsby’s modest beginnings, and the skepticism of the East Coast, personified by the cold Buchanans — particularly the enchanting Daisy — along with Gatsby’s entourage.
F. Scott Fitzgerald passed away in 1940 at the age of 44. Zelda died in 1948 at 47, tragically losing her life in a fire at the mental health facility where she had resided for numerous years. Their interment in the graveyard of St. Mary’s Church indicates that Fitzgeralds from previous generations cultivated the nearby lands — then significantly distant from the city — and Scott voiced a desire to be laid to rest close to his forebears.
At the conclusion of the narrative, Carraway contemplates that despite Gatsby’s faith in the future, this was his error, as his future was “already behind him” prior to his demise. “The Great Gatsby” thus concludes with the well-known lines that now grace Scott and Zelda’s tombstone: “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne ceaselessly into the past.” May God grant peace to their restless spirits.
