The Hearth and the Salamander: FARENHEIT 451, Part One

Ray Bradbury knows what he wants to say and how he wants to say it, which spares the reader the tedium of deciphering theme, tone, and character complexity. The first section of Fahrenheit 451, "The Sieve and the Salamander" , is a swift introduction to the author's platform: technology robs humans of emotion and everything else that makes life worth living. I appreciate the work as a profound piece of social commentary, but so far its fictional qualities do not burn as brightly as I had hoped.
The characters of  Fahrenheit 451 are symbols with no evident depth (yet, at least). All the reader knows about Montag is that he is a fireman (an unhappy fireman, to be more specific). Mildred, his wife, is no more than an embodiment of the emptiness that pervades society throughout the novel. Captain Beatty only speaks when an ironic social critique needs to be made. Clarisse fades in and out of the story effectively, though. She has significantly more depth than the other characters, which points to the book's theme: thinking, reading, and questioning add purpose to life.
Here is what I do like about the book: the author's prose. When Bradbury does go into detail (whether it be about the eeriness of technology or the airiness of Clarisse), the words are magical and powerful. I find myself stumbling into lines that I think would look good on Books-a-Million tote bags or intellectual coffee mugs. In fact, Fahrenheit 451 could easily be dissected and displayed as a collection of motivational, intelligent quotations.
At this point, I like the book. Bradbury's passion for a society that thinks and reacts and feels emotion is powerful. He should have been a motivational speaker as well as a social commentator via novelization.

The Great Gatsby...the Withering of the American Dream (essay)

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby effectively portrays 1920s America and its twisted, unsavory values. The novel has been lauded as “the American masterwork” by Jonathan Yardley of The Washington Post because of its characterization of the Jazz Age and all its unsatisfactory glory. One critic has written, “The theme of Gatsby is the withering of the American dream.” Fitzgerald’s work validates this statement. The symbolism and characters of The Great Gatsby support this contention by portraying the bleak pursuit of artificial happiness.
The Great Gatsby is rich with symbolism. Fitzgerald uses extended metaphors to portray the depravity of the Jazz Age. The green light across the bay from Gatsby’s home is a central symbol of man’s futile pursuit of unattainable satisfaction. The light shows how the American dream is ephemeral and evasive; it is lucrative yet eternally unreachable. The valley of ashes is another example of Gatsby’s effective symbolism. This area of New York, whose houses, buildings, and inhabitants are covered in ashes, symbolizes the mediocrity and monotony of the pursuit of the American dream. George and Myrtle Wilson, who live in the valley of ashes, have a dull marriage and lead dull lives. Their existence and relationship is symbolized by the ashes, which are simply remains of a once-lively past dream. Finally, Fitzgerald shows how the American dream has deteriorated by introducing the eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg, an enormous pair of eyes on a large billboard in the valley of ashes. The eyes represent an all-seeing, absent god who does nothing to help his people achieve happiness. The withering of the American dream can easily be seen through the symbolic devices in The Great Gatsby.
F. Scott Fitzgerald constructs characters that embody the selfishness, confusion, and constant search for satisfaction that were all too prevalent during the Jazz Age.
Nick, the novel’s cool, detached narrator, is a prime example of a man whose life has passed him by. As he turns thirty, he realizes that he has little to his name: a mediocre job as a bondsman, an “eyesore” bungalow in West Egg, New York, and no wife or love interest. Nick’s second cousin Daisy, however, lives in a stylish house in East Egg, New York, with plenty of money to spare. She is married to a wealthy man named Tom, but she is miserable with him, as he is with her. Additionally, Nick’s next-door neighbor, Jay Gatsby, is the ultimate depiction of the withering of the American dream. Gatsby built his entire empire of wealth in order to gain the affection of his lost love, Daisy. Subsequently, he is crushed when he realizes that his expectations of Daisy are impossibly high and will never be satisfied.  of  Nick realizes that what should make him happy and fulfilled (a spouse and financial stability) only made his cousin and his neighbor miserable. The characters in The Great Gatsby and the relationships between them easily support the contention that the novel is central to the theme of the dying American dream.
1920s America was a place of turbulent change: the economy was booming, and people had more opportunities to earn money than ever before. The American dream, which can be defined as the ideal desire for happiness, seemed to be the greatest form of achievement that any citizen could attain. However, as F. Scott Fitzgerald claims throughout The Great Gatsby, the American dream was withering due to selfishness and twisted goals. Fitzgerald’s use of poignant symbolism and effective characterization centralizes his existential argument that life is vain and unsatisfying. As a whole, The Great Gatsby depicts the typical American prioritization of money over love as well as the confusion between the two. F. Scott Fitzgerald uses this novel to expose how the American dream is barely a dream, but rather a haunting image of lifeless aspiration.

The Great Gatsby...And Then We Die (chapters 6-9)

Well, that was depressing. And beautiful.
The Great Gatsby is a bleak yet poetic depiction of the destruction of the American dream, even of the individual dreams that manifest themselves in all of us. Throughout the second half of the book, the plot has thickened, characters have blossomed, and symbolism has flourished.
As Nick narrates with cool detachment, the other characters in The Great Gatsby become more lively and life-like in Chapters six through nine. Daisy is revealed as the hollow body full of clinking coins that she is, and Tom's heavy grip on her future becomes evident. Jordan is almost as mellow as Nick, which would seem to be the recipe for a perfect match. Gatsby, of course, is exposed in all of his glory and desperation as a man with a single purpose and lofty self-actualization. We see him tumble down the pedestal he built for himself as he realizes that the Daisy he created in his mind and the Daisy on the other side of the green light are two different people. The one he loves does not exist. Even though Nick seems distant, he realizes how fast life is passing him by and how little he has to show for it. Overall, the second half of the book provides an opportunity for the characters to accept their circumstances and "beat on" in drudgery.
This brings me to the plot. Although it was not the most enjoyable aspect of the book, Chapters 6-9 raise the adrenaline, envy, and hysteria of the entire work. Relationships are tested and defeated; tragedy strikes in more ways than one. Fitzgerald weaves together the stray ends of the first half of the book. Even after the climactic Chapter Seven, I was still left guessing as to how problems would be resolved. I was surprised. Just as events have appeared to settle down, Jay Gatsby is shot as he floats aimlessly in his pool with the stark realization that he will always live in a castle for one.
The symbolism in the latter portion of The Great Gatsby is a gift to the poor soul who just wants to finish her English assignment and maybe eke some enjoyment out of it (that's me). Fitzgerald's words are spellbinding. The green light comes back in these last few chapters, particularly on the very last page of the book. The symbol shifts from one of desire and ambition to one of unattainable satisfaction. In truth, we are all parallel with Gatsby, reaching towards a goal that will inevitably float away ("Wilson" in Castaway, anyone?). The eyes of T.J. Eckleburg return as well, depicting an absent god who sees but does not interfere. This made me think: if God is only eyes, then why do we fear Him? If He is nothing more than a cosmic security camera, then why do we worship Him? (Fortunately, I like to think that God is not only eyes, but an entire Being: a spirit that emanates love and grace. I guess that's not central to the theme of the book, though.) Overall, the symbolism in these chapters depicts the distant goals and god that evaded Gatsby's characters.
I was told that everyone dies in the end of this book. The funny thing is, only two do, and those who deserve to die skip off to Chicago with their materialistic wives. However, everyone spiritually dies as the book ends. Daisy and Tom tuck themselves into a proverbial coffin and rot in monotony almost every night. Nick's aspirations of achieving something slowly wither as he turns thirty. Gatsby dies far before he is shot: he dies as his expectations of Daisy wilt before his eyes. So here is the point of the book: life sucks, and then we die. And sometimes, we wake up the next morning and do it all over again.