Book review "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald

I had not read "The Great Gatsby" before, only watched a movie with Leonardo di Caprio. I can't say that I disliked the movie at all, but I definitely was not amazed. At that time I did not understand the meaning of the film, and how it could be perceived as a masterpiece.

The book "The Great Gatsby" was on my reading list and the time came to open it and read it. The English language of Fitzgerald was difficult for me, it is not the same as reading Eckhart Tolle, Edith Eger, or even Herman Hesse. But the most important fact was reading that book I did not get the idea of the story at all and why it was so great and Gatsby was so great till the very end. The book is about the gorgeous life of people who pretend to be, while their values are so primitive, whose life perspective is limited by alcohol, affairs, and money. Their life perception resembles Ancient Rome: "Bread and Circuses". I was disappointed but decided to read till the end for two reasons: it's an old classic and a masterpiece of literature; and maybe at the end there will be a moral, a benefit, and a main idea for inner change and transformation. And it was....

At the very end of the book I wept, I did not remember the details from the movie, but the end of the book again awakened me like an extremely cold, even icy shower, and forced me to reflect.

At the very end of your life you are alone, the more people use you and pretend to like you, the more indifferent they will be for your death. All that people who came to his house did not come to him, they came to his money, power, and fame, and when after his death all these artificial and temporary things evaporated, nothing had been left, and nobody would come to his funeral.

I did not only reflect, but I traveled in time to my past and faced the unpleasant and painful reality.... Everybody from my passed ambiance "liked" me when I tried to fit into society. Everybody liked my events not because of my events, but because of my energy, power, and influence. But when I became ill, nobody came and brought me a piece of bread, neither my fancy "friends", my beloved cousins and their daughters, nor my colleagues, besides only one person. In that difficult and dark part of my life only my mother, my father, and my sister were together with me, as well as my spiritual teacher, healer, and numerous doctors.

It was a painful time traveling and revelation through the book "The Great Gatsby". Looking at my life now I am constantly asking myself: "Who will help me in case something happens?" Only my sister.... But this book also triggers another question: "Who will come to my funeral when the time comes?"