Human Dreams
dream, dreams, dreamed

Gatsby's, 6, 97, 142, 162, 189 
of Castile, 44
Daisy tumbling short of Gatsby's, 101
Gatz's reveries, 105
"You absolute little," 123
well-forgotten, 143
Nick's, savage, frightening, 154
living with a single, 169
like air, 169
West Egg figures in Nick's, 185
last and greatest of all human, 189; See exploration

 
One of the major themes in The Great Gatsby is human dreams or specifically the “American Dream” in general.  The American Dream as we all know is the aspiration that if we become very wealthy we will seek all happiness.  Though Fitzgerald gives the realization that the dream most people seek is in most cases and destructive and chaotic setting.  Fitzgerald through the characters might be suggesting that on the other side of our hopes and desires that we may seek spiritual and mental death as Gatsby did.  Through the book, Fitzgerald accumulated the idea that it is vital to be living in the present and while its fine to work towards something it is unacceptable to live in an idea that does not exist.  Fitzgerald’s view of human dreams is while they are necessary to have to keep driving forward day in and day out our we shall not live in our dreams as if they were truly real.

Dreams that run Wild

 

Bats in the belfry zoom,
Others are laconic in the room.
People slumber, some awake I think,
Wild animals elusive that hide and slink.
Sunbeams blooms the plants to grow,
Starting of a furl begin to blow.
My mind sinks deeper into sleep,
Visions enfolding as I wade in deep.
I swim across oceans afresh,
Squall splatters on my dreaming flesh.
Pirate ships laden with gold,
Captains shouts stern and bold.
I turn nearly wake but still I lie,
Gentle thoughts caress the sky.
Unicorns canter in the grass,
Others distant in mountain pass.
Snow founders the air is cool,
Flakes that are solid gently pool.
Then the unicorns are still,
As if sensing my intruding will.
My lids flickers a roving eye,
More vivid images waver by.
A tiger a lion fur brilliant white,
Gently running in the dead of night.
Ghosts that frolic on the lawn,
Then slip away at the approaching dawn.
Alarm tells me it is time to depart,
My eyes spring open with a start.
Looking out the windows at the sky,
Dreams are dissolving with satanic cries.

-Mark Wells

 

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