Julie Bosman published an interesting article on the front page of the The New York Times yesterday about competing cover designs for two paperback editions of The Great Gatsby. (The article is here.) The first is a re-issue of the classic Gatsby cover familiar to readers old enough to have read Fitzgerald’s masterpiece in high school or college. The second is the tie-in edition for the movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio and directed by that genius of brilliant excess — or hawker of wretched excess, take your pick — Baz Luhrmann.
Much of the article describes the different markets at which the two cover designs are targeted, and different sales strategies behind each. Readers already familiar with the novel are likely to choose the classic design, while readers just discovering the book are more likely to be attracted by the movie version.
Behind one of these strategies, however, are certain attitudes toward literature which I find — well, let me be gentle in my expressions here — contemptible. Allow me to explain:
How does the cover design of The Great Gatsby change the novel? (Hint: It doesn’t.)
Assuming that texts in today’s competing versions of The Great Gatsby are identical, how do the differing cover designs affect the experience of reading the novel?
The answer is they don’t. Just like reading Gatsby on a tablet rather than on paper doesn’t change the experience, as long as you think what is essential about a novel is reading the text. Is engaging the words on the page. Is entering into a conversation with the author as you read the book.
Now, the cover design can influence your expectations of a novel you haven’t read. And if those expectations are different than your reading experience, you may come to a different conclusion about the book than you might have otherwise. But all sorts of things influence our expectations of a book. Its status in the canon. The opinions of reviewers and friends. Advertising. Our mood and experiences. Our age.
But once you’ve read a book, how does anything other than having read it affect your expectations on re-reading it? Especially a novel like The Great Gatsby, which a lot of people have read. Or put another way…
If the cover design of The Great Gatsby doesn’t matter, why does anyone care?
Because people do care. Or at least we know for certain that one SoHo bookseller quoted in the article cares, because he says so. “It’s just God-awful,” he says, referring to the movie tie-in version. (I agree, by the way. It is pretty bad.)
But it doesn’t sound like this bookseller objects to the fact the cover design is ugly. Allow me to quote the article.
As to whether the new, DiCaprio-ed edition of “Gatsby” would be socially acceptable to carry around in public, [I’ve withheld the name, you can find it in the article] offered a firm no. “I think it would bring shame,” he said, “to anyone trying to read that book on the subway.”
Shame. Really. Why? Is it because the important thing about The Great Gatsby is not reading The Great Gatsby but being seen reading The Great Gatsby — especially being seen reading an edition of The Great Gatsby which signifies that you aren’t some hick coming late to the art party?
I realize I’m speculating aggressively here, with a certain amount of snark, but it’s hard to think what else our bookseller friend might have meant.
Also, while I’m at it, why the hell would you care what strangers in a city of 8.3 million people think of you? Are you likely to ever see them again? What’s the point of trying to impress people you don’t know?
Also, while I’m at it, shouldn’t we be happy if a person decides to read The Great Gatsby because the movie-cover persuaded him to pick it up? Shouldn’t we hope more people will read the books we like? I would think the answer to these questions is “yes”.
Unless of course the point of great novels is not to read them or share them, but to use these books to create an exclusive club that allows us to feel special and look down on everyone else.
Allow me to be blunt. If I haven’t been already. People who use art to bolster their social status or personal vanity are philistines. They don’t care about art. For them, it’s just another accessory to flash, like a fancy watch or a cocktail made with a certain brand of liquor.
And people who use art to exclude or denigrate others are the mortal enemies of art; enemies because the purpose of art is to connect and communicate, to inspire and delight, to comfort and challenge, to upset and exhaust, but always to leave us with a deeper experience of the life and consciousness and creation we share.
There is no connecting in an exclusive club, just arrogance and self-congratulation and rigid insularity and pettiness. These are pretty contemptible qualities.
I think I’ll pass on the opportunity to join and go get the new ugly Gatsby instead. I hear it’s available at Walmart.
Somewhat Related Content
Here’s a post on the aura of art that got started by a discussion in the comment section below.
Peter Galen Massey 
I hate both of these covers. Give me the old Penguin classic. I’m scared to see the movie but I will and I am going to see Northern Ballet’s interpretation at Sadlers Wells in May so I am a fan……of the novel.
I love art, I love photography and I do understand the need to sell books.
Must go, the green light across the bay is flashing.
I think Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet was brilliant: the perfect MTV version of the play and just right for the age of the title characters. I also think “Moulin Rouge” was great: enormous artifice, changes in tone fast enough to give you whiplash, but he pulls it off, deep emotion. I am a little dubious of Gatsby, however. I’ve seen the trailer and it looks like he missed the mark, by a mile. We’ll see. Hope the green light is close enough to touch.
I am a previous R and J, #showingmyage, loved his Moulin Rouge, ho hum on Australia, and can only be scared about this one.
I do TGG with students almost every year and want it to work. I hope my ballet experience is good, Northern is a superb ballet troupe.
The green light might be fading #nohappyendings
Cover illustrations are incredibly important for book sales. Looks like they were aiming for a modern market. But I hate to see films upstaging the original book in any way
There are occasions when it’s just fine if the film upstages the book. I remember Bridges of Madison County. My wife dragged me to it, must have been revenge for some movie I had chosen, and it was just fine. I read about 5 pages of the book and said no. Prose style was pseudo Hemingway and sachhrine at the same time. Hard to pull that combo off. The Coen’s “No Country for Old Men” was in some ways, better than the book. Leaner, more desolate.
I agree Peter, you seemed to have reined in a surging sea of bile while writing this one. I have always loved the Penguin classic in flat orange with a strip of cream in the middle. I also try to stay away from reviews and opinions till I have read the book, though it’s not always possible. Yes, the ‘DiCaprio-ed’ cover is an abomination.
Did I restrain my bile? I thought I let it fly most intemperately.
I am not sure if this has anything to do with anything but your post made me remember the days when precious books were protected by the reader with brown paper covers, or newspaper covers or cloth book covers.
My wife said to me both Gatsby covers looked wrong, but she first read it as a high school hardcover and it had no design at all. So you aren’t the only person thinking that way.
I agree. Reading the book is what is really important. I must confess that I do like book covers though – it’s one of those areas that people like to argue about because some people think it makes you seem fickle. But, the way I see it is the cover is the first thing that draws my eye. I also admit that I would pass over a book with a movie-tie in cover for two reasons. One, I like to see the original cover art – I read a lot of SFF and some of the covers are works of art! two, I find it a bit lazy just sticking a scene from a film on the book. Actually, three reasons – three, if I haven’t read the book I want my own imagination to be at work – if there’s an actor on the front I will automatically associate the character in the book with that actor and have the voice and face constantly in mind when reading. However, all my reasons aside – if the movie tie in edition was the only option, or for example if someone bought me a copy of a book with that cover I’d still read it. Just wouldn’t consciously choose to buy it myself.
Lynn 😀
I have a number of movie editions, and they aren’t great designs, but they never bothered me much. I am always happy to see Tilda Swinton on the cover of my copy of “Orlando” however.
Wow! I love your conclusion, Peter. I have to add that one of the only mti (movie-tie-in) novel editions I prefer is Fight Club (found here: http://chuckpalahniuk.net/gallery/books/fight-club). Others are so cheesy. 🙂
I am not a mti guy, but I definitely see your point. So, I was at a cafe a few years ago and I overheard an early 20-something couple having a discussion about MBAs. They were commenting on the exclusivity of their MBAs. Stating that now everyone has BS/As, and soon enough (due to job market requirements, growing educational access, etc.) their MBA won’t be worth anything because of over-saturation. I’ll return to this later.
The argument, to me, is basically this: it concerns some “purity” of reading/watching/viewing/listening/consuming art. What I mean is that: if you must access a “classic” through, ugh, a far more vulgar form of consumption, e.g. film, then you have lesser access to the original art form’s “purity”. (Walter Benjamin referred to this as aura). By reading the mti, you reveal yourself as a postmodern consumer of art, e.g. bereft of a closer proximity to the original art form (through education, status, class, etc.).
What’s funny is that the couple discussing MBAs were obviously middle class. So, by proximity and right, they shouldn’t even have access to an MBA. Their access was granted through dissemination of education, art, loans, so on and so on. And now that they had this proximity, they wanted to limit others ability to gain proximity. Seemingly, others within, or below, their own class.
But, isn’t the point of a “classic” its “timelessness”? Its mass appeal? (which is just another way of stating ‘the social reproduction of education and influence’). So, if you enjoy something, and find it beneficial, then wouldn’t you want others to have the same feeling? This goes for MBAs and art. After all, what is the original Mona Lisa to me if I can see it on a coffee mug? What is that aura of Monet’s lily pads when the print hangs upon my wall? Is my sensitivity diminished by the cover of the novel or my access to its words and plot?
Well, perhaps. I wouldn’t know. I only own one movie tie in novel. 😀
This was longer than I thought when I first began the reply. Thanks for the space, Peter!
Benjamin’s “aura” idea is interesting and absolutely on target (for me) with a lot of art. Paintings, for instance. Reproductions can seem dull even in a beautiful book. But paintings knock you over with their vitality when you see the one original. I don’t have a similar feeling about a text. Any copy has the same aura unless the author specifically participated in the creation of the design and packaging. For example, much of William Blake … especially anything he printed himself … yeah, those got an aura big time. But Hamlet? If we have drafts or a fair copy in Will’s hand, yes. But as it is, we don’t have aura as much as editorial choices. The text of my Oxford University volume is not the same as the Folger paperback from high school. I can’t say a signed copy would change my feeling about a book. None of the ones I have do so, any way.
Now the MBAs folks I understand. The whole point of an advanced business degree is to distinguish yourself, in appearance and hopefully fact but don’t count on the fact, from colleagues or other job seekers. If everyone has got an MBA, then it ceases to have value. Think of The Sneetches with the stars on thars. I’m in marketing during the day and the only reason I can get away without an MBA is (1) I’m a little older so it hadn’t become de rigueur when I was starting (2) I do a lot of creative and web, and the web changes so quickly a degree doesn’t help but (3) it’s still a problem to be without one. A piece of paper and a few letters is a funny way to get ahead in capitalism, but then again I expect you know one or two people with a PhD who couldn’t teach or write their way out of a paperbag, and yet being a “doctor” gets them more coin.
Peter, I’ve been thinking about your reply all evening while at work. And I am interested in your interpretation of the Sneetches. I never thought the moral of that story was about being different, or achieving some individuality. Rather, think the book is a wonderful achievement in telling us (our culture) why we consume. And I think it reflects this MBA allegory well.
The only reason the Sneetches without stars wanted the stars was jealousy, envy, and other moral judgments. But, if you strip away any morality, then it is clear that they wanted social acceptance from an elite group. We all do. Why are there so many films about the “cool kids” in high school? Or Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous? Or Style magazine? Why would someone buy a Prada bag when they could feed a homeless child or family? The story reflects what the middle class values & why. And we often think that a certain clothing style (a star for instance) makes us a part of that elite group. But by the time we purchase that star, that group has already moved on to something else. That is power. We chase that power (not the product) because it’s attractive and elusive.
The point of The Sneetches, for me, is that the industrialist (capitalist) is the clear winner in the end of the story. We (the Sneetches) have totally exhausted our disposable income (and essential income) on getting stars, removing stars, and so forth, while the industrialist feeds our desire (& manufactures our desires). It is the same with my MBA example.
Having a star (an MBA) is not what makes one an individual (or special), neither does not having a star. Individuality is not measured by our ability to purchase, or our access to education. There is no helping or stopping individuality. Everyone is a unique individual. No one will ever enter my time and space. They could buy 15 MA’s and they will never have my experiences or my consciousness. I don’t think saturation of MBA’s dilutes the educations value at all. It is still the same education regardless of its proliferation. What should be more of a concern is 1) If people now require an MBA for a certain type of work for which it was not required before, how does this reflect our BS education? and 2) the debt load that those who do not succeed with, but still attain, a Masters education.
Thanks for the discussion, Peter. You have truly inspired me.
You’re welcome, of course, although I think you largely inspired yourself and I was just in the neighborhood when it happened. I agree with your take on The Sneetches, actually. Sylvester McMonkey McBean does come out ahead, laughing all the way. I was just thinking of the moment when all the Sneetches had stars, and suddenly they weren’t prestigious anymore. Rare things are valuable, common are not, in the general scheme of things.
You’re also right that humanity in general wants to belong to some elite group (this is one of the classic target emotions in advertising, “exclusivity”) it’s just that I have a pathological resistance to the vanity-envy-greed axis of deadly sins. I’m a pride-anger-lust guy while just slipping out of the grasp of gluttony because of a fast metabolism.
I also didn’t mean to knock the MBA, although I would say that one from Wharton is likely better than one from Nova University; it’s just that a degree is a handy label for “quality” which like other handy labels, can be misleading or exaggerated or the stone-cold truth. Not easy to tell which it is, sometimes.
I suppose I’m an individual. As a writer I try to be, largely because I don’t know any other way to write anything that might be good, somehow, other than to let the inner voice have it’s way with the page. I expect a number of people think that is exactly my problem as a writer. If I think of a better approach, I’ll let you know.
I definitely didn’t think you were knocking the MBA. In fact, I thought quite the opposite! 🙂 I hope I didn’t seem too, um, passionate in my response. When I get an idea, or an interpretation of an idea, stuck, then I am all tooth and nail. Thanks for the discussion!
You’re welcome.
[…] post has been inspired by a fellow blogger, one Peter Galen Massey. Recently, he and I had a reply-style discussion that mentioned the value of art and Walter Benjamin‘s interpretation of “aura”. […]
I re-read The Great Gatsby last year, and I loved it more than ever. I’m glad you found something in it to appreciate, finally.