The Great Gatsby: Alphabetised Centennial Edition

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.

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What’s the Deal with The Great Gatsby: Alphabetised Centennial Edition?

i could (should?) save myself a bunch of time and just point you to The Publisher’s Explanation of the book and its background. Seriously, skip most of what I write here and just read it.

But because I feel compelled to say something about this unique offering, I’m going to plow on.

Inspired by Concrete Poetry (which is something I don’t think I’d heard of until I read the above from Fahrenheit Press) and the centennial of The Great Gatsby, Chris McVeigh has taken the classic, and as you should assume from the subtitle, alphabetized it.

As McVeigh writes in the introduction:

…this alphabetised edition of The Great Gatsby is not a puzzle to be solved, or a parody to provoke. It is rather, a re-seeing of language in the raw – a confrontation with the building blocks of a story we think we know.

Removed from their narrative scaffolding, Gatsby’s words fall into new patterns, unexpected rhythms, and visual clusters. “Daisy” “dream” and “death” no longer emerge from plot, but jostle for position in a flattened, democratic field. The result is a text not about the American Dream, but made of it—its’ language laid bare, its’ seductions and emptiness exposed with surgical neutrality.

What would T.G. Eckleberg have to say?

Who knows, but those giant eyes of his would probably enjoy taking this in.

You really don’t even have to read the words, you can just open any page and take in the visual impact, the shapes that emerge from just bare words—limited punctuation (mostly apostrophes), no paragraphs, just a word-space-word-space-word sequence for 197 pages.

It’s striking, mesmerizing, and can even evoke an emotional response somehow.

So, what did I think about The Great Gatsby: Alphabetised Centennial Edition?

I honestly don’t know. But I can say I’ve thought about it a lot since getting it.

McVeigh asks:

Is story found only in sequence? Can meaning survive fragmentation? Might new meanings emerge—accidental, ambient, and poetic—from the ruins of arrangement?

At this moment, my answers are: Yes. Possibly? (pronounced with a heavy question mark) Yes, just don’t ask me what any of them are.

I’ve picked this up and read through a few pages several times in the week or so since I got this, and each time I start to think I’m getting something. Like Dirk Gentley said, I felt like I could “grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all.” But I’ve fallen short each time, but I’m going to keep trying.

But this is not a book for everyone, I should stress. For example, I showed this to my wife, who I thought might appreciate the idea. She looked through it and gave me one of those looks and asked, “You spent money on this?”

Yes, I did. Happily so—and am still glad I did. Not just for the novelty (which probably drove the purchase, to be frank), but because it’s giving me the opportunity to ask those questions I started this section with. This might not be much of a review, but I think it’s the heartiest endorsement I could give of the project.

I spent money on this, you should consider doing the same.