INTERPRETATIONS OF THE GREAT GATSBY
Ask yourself these questions as you examine each interpretation:
- Does this illustrate a clear understanding of the work as a whole and/or its characters, and how or how not?
- Does this contain an interpretation of the work and its themes rather than just a summary of its events?
- If there is an interpretation, how valid is it (meaning, is it supportable within the text of the novel)?
SONGS:
PAINTINGS, POSTERS, AND ILLUSTRATIONS: VIDEO GAME: Click HERE to play.
Watch the playthrough below. ESSAYS: (If you can't see the essays in full screen, use the .pdf links below each.)
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BOOK COVERS:
VIDEO MULTIMEDIA PRESENTATIONS: MOVIES:
ANIMATION: "Family Guy Gatsby" Part I
"Family Guy Gatsby" Part II
INTERPRETIVE DANCES: |
POETRY:
RIVERS OF RED by Capri E.
Under the gaze of divine speculation, I call out for my release. Fleeting freedom from the valley of ashes, Only a flicker to sustain a flame. He pulls me past the gaze of God, For days and nights of blissful sin. I need him to use me, to love me, abuse me; Ignited in passion that feeds and consumes me. Rivers of red consumed by the ash, A last breath of smoke confined to the past. A heart of fire torn open, dreams come undone; Vitality's lost, the void's battle won. Rivers of red run dark in the street, Where cobblestones, cinders, and eternity meet. Yellow and red for one vivid moment. And endless night follows dawn. I beg for pain to justify existence; A life without substance means nothing at all. The shadow of someone who never existed, The ghost of a man never loved. I look through his empty, all-seeing eyes, Finding nothing within, and everything beyond. I long for release from this place of unfeeling, Pushing past the ghost that's finally appeared. Relentless fire, greed turned to debris. Everything seen but no action taken, The truth of The Dream embodied in ashes. billows of smoke blinding a nation. Rivers of red run dry after only a moment, Yet crimson stains never fade. Yellow and red, alight just for a moment, And hollow existence continues in vain. |
DAISY BUCHANAN by Juliette G.
The ghost of a jazz melody, whispers of unsatisfied sighs The moths running rampant amongst the champagne and stars That pulsating frantic heat of a life so unbearably short That pink saccharin suit You thought my head was full of empty, my heart full of glee I was never there, a green delusion of manic non-propriety Young tragic soldier, eons passed in a glance, a brush of fingertips The wink of a diamond, the seducing scent of eau de dollar How I sobbed into those shirts That awful inexpressible sentiment, falling fatally short of love The man we left in the dust, blinded by sorrow and ash The crumpled body, smeared blood and the fatal crash My virgin doll’s hand on Tom’s smart suit arm Blood only I could see, blinding me with regret I was your fresh pure daisy An innocent flower But in the unbearable heat of that long summer, I wilted. |