Bad Sentences in Classic Literature: The Great Gatsby

Even a great author can write an occasional bad sentence.

When I first read The Great Gatsby decades ago, I didn’t question anything about it.  Everybody I knew who read books said it was a great book, so I assumed I was reading a great book.  As far as I was concerned, if F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote it, if Hemingway or Steinbeck or Twain or Dickens wrote it, then whatever it was must have been great.  I didn’t question these things.  Who was I to question the writing of a great novelist?

I started reading The Great Gatsby a couple weeks ago, but I had to stop because of some of the sentences.  I don’t know how critical to be of sentences in a great, influential book.  I hesitate commenting on The Great Gatsby because I criticized Holden Caulfield last week, and I don’t want to come across as constantly nit-prickety.  But at the same time, if anybody (or any book) can be criticized, it’s The Great Gatsby.  It’s not like F. Scott Fitzgerald is going to have his feelings hurt.

I know I have my fair share of bad sentences in my own writing.  Whenever I edit anything I’ve written, I cringe at poor word choice, poor sentence structure, and stilted dialogue.  But I have a time-consuming job that has nothing to do with writing.  I have a family that I spend time with.  I write when I get the chance.  I don’t get all day to bang away at a keyboard, and I don’t get to hang out with cool, famous people at cafes at night and talk about the world (or talk about whatever cool, famous people talk about).  Heck, I don’t even have an editor.  I am the editor.  Being my own editor is like being my own lawyer, so I know what I am.  But I don’t have much choice.

I promise, I wasn’t looking for sentences to criticize or complain about.  I was just reading The Great Gatsby when I noticed the first bad sentence early on (p. 11 in my copy) when Tom Buchanan is introduced:

“Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of leaning aggressively forward.”

Why is that a bad sentence?

I could maybe understand explaining that Tom Buchanan had two eyes.  It seems unnecessary because most people have two eyes, but that’s okay.  It’s the “shining, arrogant eyes.”  If I had written “shining, arrogant eyes” in college, my writing instructors would have explained to me that eyes cannot be shining or arrogant (maybe I could have gotten away with “shining” if the eyes were reflecting in the dark).  There might be an arrogant expression on a person’s face, but eyes by themselves are not arrogant.  And then to have two arrogant eyes?  Maybe if Tom had had one arrogant eye when he had two eyes, that would have been worth mentioning.  A person with one shining, arrogant eye and one dull, normal eye… now THAT’S someone worth describing.

After thinking about that bad sentence for a few minutes, I continued reading.  Then a couple pages later , I ran into another bad sentence, this one describing Jordan Baker:

“She was extended full length at her end of the divan, completely motionless and with her chin raised a little as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall.”

Why is that a bad sentence?

I get the impression that this was a rough draft sentence that Fitzgerald never went back to finish.  She was balancing SOMETHING on her chin.  The word “something” is kind of vague.  If I had written that in college, my writing instructor would have demanded that I come up with another word for “something.”  “Something” is what you write when you’re not sure what word you want to put in in its place.  I kind of want to know what that something could have been.  If I am going to write that a character has her chin raised like she were balancing something that was likely to fall, I should be able to think of something that could be balanced on a chin.  A napkin?  A cocktail glass?  Several cocktail glasses?  A book?

If The Great Gatsby were 800 pages long, I could understand “something” being in the book.   But The Great Gatsby is short.  F. Scott Fitzgerald was a professional writer.  When I was in college, I couldn’t use the word “something” without getting chewed out.  If F. Scott Fitzgerald could get away with using the word “something” in a universally acclaimed work of literature, I at least want to point it out.  And I want to know, what could have been balanced on her chin that was quite likely to fall?

Yes, I know I get bothered by trivial things.  I can’t finish reading The Great Gatsby because Tom Buchanan has “two shining, arrogant eyes” and Jordan Baker raises her chin “a little as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall.”  Maybe it’s because I’m getting older and grouchier.  Maybe it’s because I’m writing more than ever, so I notice things that I wouldn’t have picked up on before.  Either way, it’s probably a miracle that I finish reading any books at all.  Before I read any further, I must know if these sentences are bad, or if I am a bad reader.

Am I being too critical?  Was my college writing instructor too critical?  Without his criticism, I never would have become this critical.  Is The Great Gatsby such an awesome novel that it can no longer be criticized?  Am I just a crank who uses any lame excuse to not finish a book?

While I ponder these questions, I’m going to balance a copy of The Great Gatsby on my chin.  Despite it being such a small book, I believe it is quite likely to fall.

*****

The 1990s…  a decade when kids still played outside without supervision and an average guy could approach an attractive woman without being called a creep on the internet.

The Sunset Rises: A 1990s Romantic Comedy is now available on Amazon and from the trunk of my car at various local bookstores… until parking lot security kicks me out. Buy it now while supplies last!