The Great Gatsby movie is actually good.
“The way he looked at her was the way all women want to be looked at.” That phrase struck me. It rang in my mind. All of the sudden, memories rushed in. I was reading again. I was reading her story. You see, I am capable of that look. Now, I’m not saying that I know how to do it, or am even willing too. I am saying I am capable of it. I have the eyeballs and the brain for it. I know this because I’ve been admired for it before. Now “I” wasn’t really admired, not even my character. I am not silly enough to think I am a look or that a look is mine. I am nothing without the environmental pressures that prompted the look, but I would say that I have a tendency or two that … Well, That’s another story. In the story, the narrator looked at the boyfriend of her friend. That boyfriend was me and that narrator was her, as much as any two people can be any two characters. Characters are more real than people, more constant. As Pirandello illustrates in his timeless play. Anyway, she was looking at me, looking at her. The characters were going on a camping trip. The me-character forgot all of the camping gear, but that is also another story. The point is that she was jealous of the look I was giving to her friend. She didn’t want me, as she made clear in the story, she wanted that look. She wanted someone to look at her that way, a way that says “I believe in you, I desire your best.” and to desire something like that is to truly see it, and sometimes we just need someone to see it, to see the best that we know we are.