The vast majority of popular literature has long revolved around the lives of the rich and powerful. Until recently (the last couple of centuries or so), it was almost exclusively just that. Books and plays about kings and queens, princes and princesses, knights, wizards, famous warriors and a litany of gods and supernatural beings. It hasn’t been long that authors have been penning works about the common man (like you, for example).
But then there was a shift in thought. Perhaps because readers found it difficult to connect to such lofty individuals; perhaps because our egos got the better of us and we wished to read more about ourselves. Either way, the landscape of literature began to allow for such classics as Les Miserables, The Grapes of Wrath, The Color Purple, One Hundred Years of Solitude and countless others that focused on the various plights of the masses.
But in the process of becoming inundated by stories about us, perhaps we forgot what it was that attracted us to those stories of the rich and famous in the first place. It is an escape - a way either to step into the shoes of someone in a position of wealth or power or to at least be a fly on the wall so that we can observe the behavior and actions of such fascinating personages.
Enter the Great Gatsby setting. Cocktail parties, fancy cars, huge mansions, important guests. It’s like the novel version of People magazine. And no doubt Jay Gatsby would have made it into the Sexiest Men Alive issue.