Happy Six-Month Anniversary!
My first blog post all started with frustration. I wanted a way to post about my thoughts on the book I read for the third time while taking Grade 12 English for the second time at 21. The first time, I failed the course at 20 while struggling with TBI symptoms; I had missed the essay date, not realizing my time was up. I had to redo all of my assignments without submitting any of the old ones in order to successfully pass the second time; this took grit but also time, and within this time, I began to really think about the essay I wrote for my final project. That’s where this essay was born, but the specifics of how it turned out to be a blog post is a different story for another time.
Since then I have developed a lot as a writer and reviewer, but because it's important to never forget where you've come from, I left this essay unedited and unpolished, with all of my experimentation in place with boldened words and em dashes, I used tools to help me polish my work at the time, not sure yet of "how to do this blogging thing". By God's goodness, I've been able to keep posting and writing, relying less and less on tools, growing in my own skill set. My hopes are that my posts will not only help people find good art to consume and help them think critically about what they're watching or reading, but also encourage people in their faith, to show them that books and movies aren't the only stories being written, but ours also.
I hope to continue writing on the blog in the future, and if He still wills it, I'm sure I will, even if different seasons will look different from others on The Branch & Vine Critic. Anyways, for all of you who have stuck around until now, this one's for you. ❤
By the way, the beautiful picture above was taken by the very first reader, and follower of my blog, one of my very first supporters, my Mom, love you!😊
Also, I should mention that in an effort to diversify my audience, I have extended The Branch & Vine Critic's reflections to the platform Medium, where I will primarily be posting my essays. An updated reflection on The Great Gatsby is my debut on the platform; if you're interested in supporting my work there or seeing how I edited my new version of the essay, please click here to check it out!
The Great Gatsby: Can You See Me?
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
There’s a certain carelessness to it all, a certain empty ending.
If you’ve ever read The Great Gatsby, maybe you’ve felt it too:
The emptiness of the broken illusions, the shallow lights, the silence that comes after the music fades.
For many, this novel is a story about love, ambition, and the American Dream. And it is—but beneath all the movement and glamour lies something deeper and darker. Something spiritual.
This isn’t just a novel about chasing dreams. It’s a story about chasing the wrong things—and the cost.
The Illusion Gatsby Built
Gatsby is a man of ambition. He reinvents himself, throws extravagant parties, and surrounds himself with anything he can buy that's beautiful or attractive—all in pursuit of one thing: belonging.
He believes that with enough wealth and charm, he can win back Daisy and everything she represents—ultimately, the life he’s always dreamed of.
But here’s the tragedy: Gatsby builds his entire world on an illusion. And he holds firmly to it, believing in it until the very end.
“He was a son of God... and he must be about His Father’s business—the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty.”
In a powerful line, Gatsby’s “Father’s business” is portrayed clearly. In irony and flowery words, Fitzgerald uses biblical language to compare Gatsby's devotion to his dream to a devotion for God. Gatsby’s business is his ultimate worship—of wealth, status, and fantasy.
Gatsby is faithful—but to a lie.
“For my people have committed two evils:
They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters,
and hewed out cisterns for themselves,
broken cisterns that can hold no water.”
— Jeremiah 2:13
He chases everything he thinks will fulfill him. Ultimately, it leaves him empty.
“For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?”
— Mark 8:36
Are We Really Different?
Nick Carraway, our narrator, prides himself on being honest—a kind of moral anchor in a corrupt world. But even Nick isn’t as different as he wants to believe.
He watches the decay and debauchery but doesn’t attempt to stop it. He sometimes even benefits from it. He judges Tom, Daisy, and Gatsby—but he’s drawn to their world all the same.
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
— Romans 3:23
This is true for all of us.
We want to believe we’re better than the selfishly depraved, the careless, and the greedy. But maybe the only difference is that we don’t always have the wealth or power to act on every selfish desire like they do...
“Whoever is faithful with very little is also faithful with much,
and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much.”
— Luke 16:10
We’re not just observers of a broken world. We’re part of it.
The Valley of Ashes — And Ours
One of the most haunting images in The Great Gatsby is the Valley of Ashes—a gray, barren wasteland between the glamour of West Egg and the chaos of New York City. It’s a place forgotten by the rich and trampled underneath the weight of excess.
It’s not just about poverty. It’s about spiritual decay.
“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”
— Psalm 63:1
We live in the same world. A world full of movement and noise, but often lacking substance. A place where souls go thirsty chasing what doesn’t satisfy.
“Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?”
— Isaiah 55:2
The God Who Enters In
The human condition hasn’t changed since Gatsby’s time.
- We still chase illusions.
- We still build broken cisterns.
- We still search for meaning in all the wrong places.
But there’s good news — and it’s not found in self-reinvention or social climbing.
It’s in a God who doesn’t just watch from a distance — but enters our brokenness. He comes alongside us.
“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us…”
— John 1:14
God doesn’t wait for us to clean up our lives. He sees us fully — even behind all our masks and striving — and He chooses to come near.
“While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
— Romans 5:8
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…”
— Hebrews 4:15
Eternal life doesn’t begin after we die.
It begins the moment we recognize the One who sees us, knows us, and invites us into something real.
Something lasting.
Something true.
The End
The Great Gatsby is not just a literary tragedy. It’s a mirror — one that shows us what happens when we chase after the wrong gods and try to save ourselves through success, love, or reinvention.
Like Gatsby, we all ask the same question:
Can you see me?
Gatsby longed to be seen and known — but he never was in a way that satisfied him.
We all want to be seen. We have this longing from a young age. I would dare to say, all of us are familiar with it.
And the good news is:
God sees you.
Not the version you try to project.
Not the image you hope others will accept.
You.
And in seeing you, He calls you — not to build another illusion — but to come home, and be who you were always made to be.
Questions for Reflection
- What does devotion mean to me?
- Where have I been chasing dreams that don’t satisfy?
- Do I believe there’s a God who sees and knows me?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.❤❤❤
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