An Unlikely Prophet

Nick Caraway, Tom Buchanan, Jay Gatsby, and Daisy, Daisy, Daisy--What We Can Learn from Fitzgerald's Passion Play

For most of my life, I have loved The Great Gatsby. It’s a novel I return to time and again. No matter my personal circumstances or the health of the country, the novel seems especially suited—tailor-made, actually—for the time in which I’m reading it. In fact, ever since 2017 when our latest national nightmare began, Nick’s words have haunted me:

“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy-they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

It’s a perfect description of the current crime syndicate running the the show these days. It’s so ridiculously on-target for the behavior of present day demagogues and dictators and oligarchs and west wing worms, that I often find myself reaching for my worn out copy of “Gatsby” to reread the prophetic lines from the novel’s final paragraph:

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

But why oh why must we continually repeat the sins of the past? We KNOW Hitler, Mussolini, Pol Pot, Tom Buchanan, et al, were awful human beings who sought absolute power at the expense of humanity. Yet, here we are.

And again, I revisit “Gatsby” for a morsel of insight or inspiration, a crumb of guidance. In this morning’s reading, I ran across these lines, which I surely have read innumerable times (I think I first read the novel when I was 12), but this time, they struck like an arrow:

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.”

That is exactly what we’re doing. Our social media posts: a blank stare. Our ineffectual protests: a blank stare. Our enraged late night talk show hosts: a blank stare. Don’t get me wrong, I applaud and support all of our efforts, but they aren’t changing anything. The Corporation for Public Broadcasting? Gone. The truth from the Smithsonian archives? Gone. The government workers who helped people whose names they never knew but whose needs were, and remain, great? Gone. The government workers who simply told the truth? Gone. What’s next? Libraries? Social security? Gay marriage? Women’s suffrage? Equal rights? Our government drops bombs on foreign lands not as an act of global protection but as an act of domestic manipulation.

I don’t think the calvary is going to save us. All those vapid party-goers getting drunk on Gatsby’s bootleg booze are stand-ins for our legislators. Most of the political class who are posturing outrage are doing so because they are testing the waters for presidential runs, not because they care that many of us are experiencing concentration camp nightmares even as we struggle to put food on the table or convince our insurance companies to pay for our medications and needed surgeries or supplement our children’s education with reading and science and art so that they don’t grow up to be the sociopaths next door.

Our blank stares are going to have to turn into specific answers that levitate us beyond outrage, no matter how justified said outrage is.

If you’re reading this, most likely you are an engaged and creative person. If we sail Fitzgerald’s ship into the past, we will find crimes against humanity, but we will also find acts of courage and kindness and care. In order to feed, clothe, and provide basic medical care, we might need to reconstitute the social welfare clubs of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. These secular clubs were more than social hubs (important in and of itself). They were places where folks organized around various causes and helped one another (clothes, food, medicine, childcare, and more). Neighbors might once again need to love everyone’s children, casting a net that provides sustenance for body and brain—food, books, love, safety, creative play. Perhaps every street needs to become a Sesame Street. I keep thinking about, for instance, neighborhood sponsored story times; these might prove especially important in underserved rural and urban areas. Finally, perhaps we’re all going to have to pitch in and practice eldercare because warehousing the old and frail and dying—or rendering them homeless—is not the answer.

Speaking of answers I have very few, but my impulse is this: When our government refuses to provide essential services we pay for through our tax dollars, we’re going to have to come up with citizen-born solutions. We can scream, cry, pray, and vote for regime change, but until that day happens, we have to take care of one another. As we get ceaselessly born into the past, let’s reacquaint ourselves with what our ancestors did to survive and model that for our own day and age.

Yes, Gatsby was better than the whole damn bunch of them. And so are we.

SUNDAY NIGHT BEDTIME STORIES WITH CONNIE MAY FOWLER IS ABOUT TO LAUNCH!

When I first started hosting writing retreats—this was pre-covid—we began each day with a morning reading from a favored text and the faculty member would, in brief, discuss what they admired about the excerpt. The readings were designed to jumpstart the participants’ creativity and provide a jolt of inspiration. When we went virtual, we delivered these readings via email. I’ve continued this practice whether the retreat/conference I’m hosting is in person or online. These recordings have proven to be incredibly popular and, so I’m told, helpful. Think of them as petite gems that cast a shine, a spell, on your own writing process. For my paid subscribers only, I will begin posting similar readings on two Sunday nights a month. I’ll read from classics, oldies but goodies, contemporary, and brand new works. Designed to inspire you to sit in that chair and write while giving you a wee bit of a craft talk, you can dip into them at your own pace and as many times as you wish. I’d like to get to the point where I can post them weekly, but I don’t want to over promise. This Sunday night, the first one drops. So if you’re not a paid subscriber, maybe you want to become one, and if you are, I hope you will enjoy Bedtime Stories!

A NEW ARTFUL CRAFT, A NEW ENDEAVOR: COCO MAY STUDIOS

This might speak loudest to those of you who write novels: They take so long to complete, that finding other artistic endeavors that you can see through from start to finish in an afternoon or a week or even a month is balm to the creative soul. That is one of the things that prompted me to start making jewelry. I’ve gotten a tad bit prolific with the gemstones, earthstones, seastones, so much so that I am now offering my creations for sale at Coco May Studios. As of this writing, earrings and necklaces are posted, but I’m adding bracelets, bookmarks (jewelry for your books!), and brooches soon, so check back often and please subscribe to the CocoMay newsletter. Instagram and Facebook pages will launch soon.

A wee sampling of what I’ve been up.

DON’T MISS IT: INKBLOSSOM’S VIRTUAL ALL WRITING RETREAT!

The final virtual writing retreat of 2025 takes place September 19-21. These beloved retreats provide abundant writing time, morning inspirations, and afternoon discussions. Join us!

Some of the crew at this summer’s InkBlossom Vermont Writing Retreat and Conference in Stowe, Vermont