New Year’s Resolutions, The American Dream, and The Great Gatsby

Another New Year, the long anticipated 2014 has already rolled around the corner. Reflecting on the toils, efforts, victories, and failures of the previous year, Americans once again unite in crafting New Year’s Resolutions to live better lives, pay off their debt, land a new job, or find new love. We ready ourselves for yet another desperate assault up the ladder of life–And then we fall. Whether we trip on the first step, or the third, we sooner or later lose our footing and fail in many of our resolutions by the year’s end. Based on historical precedent, I have little hope that 2014 will be any different. Never daunted, we regroup, renew our efforts, and try again. Pursuing that wisp of smoke, that green light, of the American Dream.

Three days after New Year’s Eve, I had the chance to finally watch the film rendition of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby starring Leonardo DiCaprio. Enthralled by the film and the book’s reflections on The American Dream, I could not help drawing several connections to our commonly made New Year’s Resolutions. In the classic story, Nick Caraway, a Yale man hoping to strike it big in the bond business in the Roaring Twenties, gives the account of his eccentric neighbor, Jay Gatsby. Living in a colossal mansion outside of New York City, Gatsby was famed for holding dazzling weekly parties; everyone who was anyone attended and laughter, music, and liquor ran freely. A virtual icon of the American Dream, we learn of the humble origins of Gatsby and his tragic dreams that become entangled with his love with Daisy. Gatsby spared no effort to reach Daisy, who was symbolized by the green light that shone from the end of Daisy’s dock on the opposite side of the harbor, yet always came up short. Never doubting himself, he always thought if tomorrow he just tried a little harder, he could finally reach her.  Sound familiar?

The fact is the dream that Gatsby held, which (allowing for variations) we all hold, is ultimately impossible to reach. The American Dream is fundamentally flawed. The pursuit of material wealth, power, and personal achievement will always be just out of reach. While we should not neglect our material life, we need to realize that there is deeper meaning to our daily struggles and dreams in life. Unfortunately, it was too late for Gatsby to learn this lesson. The classic view of the American Dream is flawed; there is a deeper meaning in the world, and a reformed Dream is in order.

What is the American Dream? It is not hard to describe, although it may take many forms. The traditional image comes to mind of a factory worker, a young entrepreneur, or a family setting off in a wagon looking for a better life out West. The idea that, striving hard enough, we can pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, and do anything we desire. All one needs is the will to succeed. It is also important to note that the American Dream, like so many of our New Year’s Resolutions, has a particular material element. We would like a slightly larger house, a remodeled kitchen, a new car, and a better job to pay for it all. While it usually includes earthly riches, there is often also a certain degree of prestige and power that is blended in, especially for the more politically ambitious. Occasionally, this dream is complemented with more relational desires such as developing stronger relationships with family, friends, and acquaintances. Three things are always required: a goal or dream, an undying sense of will power, and ensured reward in the end. A dream fundamentally flawed.

Fitzgerald fittingly described the holes of this dream in the last few lines of Gatsby, where Caraway is left describing the dream and lifestyle pursued by his extraordinary neighbor:

            I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock… Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther…. And one fine morning—

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

Gatsby never reached his goal, and most Americans never will. The goal will always have the despicable habit of moving one step further down the road. In the Roaring Twenties, the stock market boomed, men were made wealthy overnight, and suddenly everything seemed possible. However, it is quickly apparent that these goals will never satisfy. As the wise Solomon observed in Ecclesiastes 5:10, “He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance with increase: this is also vanity.” Personal material gains are relative. There will always be someone with more. Greed greases the whole system.

Somewhat ironically, Adam Smith the author of The Wealth of Nations and the intellectual father of much of the modern capitalistic system associated with the American Dream warned of this myth. Near one of his classic passages in which he describes the invisible hand, the hypothesized hand that guides everyone’s individual ambitions into serving the general good, Smith critiques the very system of material desires that provide fuel for his economic system:

            Power and riches appear then to be, what they are, enormous and operose machines contrived to produce a few trifling conveniencies to the body… though they may save him from some smaller inconveniencies, can protect him from none of the severer inclemencies of the season. They keep off the summer shower, not the winter storm, but leave him always as much, and sometimes more exposed than before, to anxiety, to fear, and to sorrow; to disease, to danger, and to death… It is this deception which rouses and keeps in continual motion the industry of mankind.

Even Smith recognizes that blatant material goals that motivate people are really mere trifles. These trifles are not reserved for super-rich, but are often available to those of the most humble means. The beggar in the streets has much of the same security, “that kings are fighting for.” In which case, what is the point? Toys, a new car, a new speedboat, or one more fine dress will do little to bring one true happiness and do even less to protect one from the real calamities of life. Gatsby always thought that he was merely one step away from achieving his dream, yet even the Great Gatsby’s dreams crashed and burned, and slipped into the past.

If we are not to pursue the American Dream, what are we to pursue? What do we really want in life? While true happiness has always been an elusive subject that has received the treatment of dozens of books and lectures, I would humbly suggest two areas that should be the core of our dreams and desires: relationships and spiritual growth.

Ultimately, people hold a central position in God’s creation. When Jesus Christ came down to earth, what did he do? With whom did he associate? He related with people, especially common folk. About a year ago I remember a speaker to our college Chapel who made this point crystal clear to his young audience: “Jesus was always serving the person in front of him.” Instead viewing people as obstacles to get around to achieve our goals, or worse, as tools to achieve our ambitions, we should focus our efforts on serving the people, whoever they may be, that we encounter in life.

The centrality of building life-long relationships is commonly referred to throughout literature and movies. Over the Christmas break, I also happened to finally watch Disney’s 2009 film The Princess and the Frog (a bit behind on the ball, right?). I was shocked to see how clearly the film exemplified the core position that relationships should have in our dreams. In one of the key musical numbers, Mama Odie, a “good” witch-doctor who fulfills the sage archetype, asks the two amphibian protagonists to “dig a little deeper” to uncover their dreams. Instead of Prince Naveen pursuing riches or Tiana placing all of her hopes in owning a restaurant, Mama Odie encouraged them to find happiness in the people around them, and in their case, each other. While it is always dangerous to place all your worth in other people, growing quality friendships and relationships will prove to be more long lasting than the mere pursuit of physical wealth or power.

However, people also fail and should not be the sole source of our happiness. Ultimately, we must place our ultimate fulfillment in life in something that transcends our earthly forms. Cars rust, cherished books collect dust, fancy homes deteriorate. Regardless of how firmly we set off to fulfill this year’s New Year’s Resolutions, we are probably already feeling the short-sightedness of many of these goals. A transcendent goal is needed. We need something that is permanent, something that will not only pass the test of time in our lives, but in the lives of our children and great grandfathers. For myself? I have found this ultimate value in the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ. I know that in the end, faithfulness and growth in him is true progress in life. He will stand like a rock against both the highs and lows that the worrisome tide of life will continually sweep upon us. It is critical to have an eternal center to your goals. It is also important to note that this isn’t even strictly Christian advice, as Stephen Covey wrote in the The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People:

The spiritual dimension is your core, your center, your commitment to your value system. It’s a very private area of life and a supremely important one. It draws upon the sources that inspire and uplift you and tie you to the timeless truths of all humanity. And people do it very differently.

While there will be perpetual struggles, wars within our fallen selves, we can at least find a degree of security in our relationships and our focus on God.

This is a reformed dream. It is a dream no longer dependent on material success, personal advancement, or prestigious titles. Please do not misunderstand me, I do not believe that all material concerns and motives to be folly. On the contrary, we live in a physical world and it is necessary for us to maintain ourselves. As C. S. Lewis noted, “to like doing what must be done is a characteristic that has survival value.” Despite the chinks in the Great Gatsby’s dreams, they were at least partially redeemed in and of themselves by the very drive that they inspired in him. Nick Caraway, reflecting on this characteristic in the beginning of the book, described it as a, “heightened sensitivity to the promises of life… an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again,” and as he called out to his fated neighbor at the close of the book, “They’re a rotten crowd. You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.” Gatsby’s determination and drive should be admired, not despised. They key to his downfall, and our potential salvation, is not his energy but his object. As we make New Year’s Resolutions, as we should, we must always remember to keep a pure and proper end in mind. We will never “beat the ratchet,” and even if we do, what then? We must be careful not to be that sad soul, who, upon becoming so exciting in climbing the great ladder of life, reaches the top only to realize that he has been climbing the wrong wall.

~Adam Saxton

The Christening of The Digital Symposium

Welcome to The Digital Symposium.  We are a group of individuals with an interest in the liberal arts who are committed to seeking a depth of understanding in all that we do and think.  We have launched this blog to begin a conversation about ideas, for like Richard Weaver, we emphatically assert that “ideas have consequences.”  This blog is a means for us to sharpen our thinking through the art of writing, to engage in conversation/dialectic to “rightfully divide the truth,” and to spark anew (or rekindle) in our readers a passion for the good, the true, and the beautiful.

Like Aristophanes’ caricature of Socrates, many individuals claim that devotion to the life of the mind necessarily leads to one being lost in the clouds — wholly out of touch with the “human world.”  To this, we reply that intellectual growth need not be pedantic nor esoteric.  We aim to be philosophers in the truest sense of the word: “lovers of wisdom.”  That being said, we remain human, so we would appreciate grace should we lapse into sophism, for our ultimate goal is to stumble upon wisdom, and specifically that wisdom which leads to virtue, or right living.  ‘Writing in the 1st Century A.D., Seneca clearly noted the difference between learning for the sake of learning and learning for the sake of cultivating virtue:

What, in your opinion, I say, would be the point in trying to determine the respective ages of Achilles and Patroclus?  Do you raise the question, ‘Through what regions did Ulysses stray?’ instead of trying to prevent ourselves from going astray at all times?  We have no leisure to hear lectures on the question whether [Ulysses] was sea-tossed between Italy and Sicily, or outside our unknown world…; we ourselves encounter storms of the spirit, which toss us daily, and our depravity drives us into all the ills which troubled Ulysses….  Show me rather, by the example of Ulysses, how I am to love my country, my wife, my father, and how, even after suffering shipwreck, I am to sail toward these ends, honorable as they are.

It is toward these ends that we pursue learning.  If ever we think we are learned, let us judge and be judged by the fruit we bear and the degree of virtue we embody.  If not exactly ‘practical,’ virtue is at least ‘practicable’ — and we should utilize our resources to develop selflessness and magnanimity.  In doing so, we may be making the ultimate rebellion against modern society.  Irving Babbitt, the (in)famous proponent of American Humanism, seems to have caught on to this theme when he wrote, “Even though the whole world seems bent on living the quantitative life, the college should remember that its business is to make of its graduates men of quality in the real and not the conventional meaning of the term.  In this way it will do its share toward creating that aristocracy of character and intelligence that is needed in a community like ours to take the place of an aristocracy of birth, and to counteract the tendency toward an aristocracy of money.”  In so far as we seek excellence, it is only in character and wisdom; this should be the ultimate goal of education.

Here at The Digital Symposium, we make no claims to novelty, for, indeed, I would suggest, originality is far too prevalent in the modern world.  Here we seek to accumulate and incorporate the wisdom of the ages into a sensible, thoughtful, and, most importantly, truthful method of living.  Truth should always take precedence over novelty, a fact which all too often forgotten.  Mortimer Adler reminds us this proper hierarchy, saying:

No higher commendation can be given any work of the human mind than to praise it for the measure of truth it has achieved; by the same token, to criticize it adversely for its failure in this respect is to treat it with the seriousness that a serious work deserves.  Yet, strangely enough, in recent years, for the first time in Western history, there is a dwindling concern with this criterion of excellence.  Books win the plaudits of the critics and gain widespread popular attention almost to the extent that they flout the truth – the more outrageously they do so, the better.  Many readers…employ other standards for judging, and praising or condemning, the books they read – their novelty, their sensationalism, their seductiveness, their force, and even their power to bemuse or befuddle the mind, but not their truth, their clarity or their power to enlighten.

If we tend toward anything, it will be proclivity toward that which is ancient.  This is not because we seek Eden in the annals of history, but because we seek to free ourselves from what I refer to as ‘the tyranny of the present’ — or, in Burke’s phrase, we seek to take advantage of the wisdom of the species.  C.S. Lewis beautifully described this mindset in his little known essay On the Reading of Old Books, in which he said, “The only palliative [against the tyranny of the present] is to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds, and this can be done only by reading old books.  Not, of course, that there is any magic about the past.  People were no cleverer then than they are now; they made as many mistakes as we.  But not the same mistakes.”  By reading and writing we hope to reveal, understand, and correct the errors that are so prevalent in the culture around us.

As we christen The Digital Symposium (and lives devoted to intellectual excellence and virtue), may it be said of us as was once recounted of Basil the Great, that the galleons of our lives be “laden with all the learning attainable by the nature of man.”

Bon voyage.

-Jacob Wolf