Allow me to contribute to the gloriously dismal and unhappy state of our country with a famous quote from The Great Gatsby. Daisy, on the subject of her daughter, says:
"Well, I've had a very bad time, Nick, and I'm pretty cynical about everything...let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?"
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"Very much."
"It'll show you how I've gotten to feel about--things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. 'All right,' I said, 'I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."
This is probably one of the most quoted lines from Gatsby, if only because it feeds the flames of feminist fury. Some people have started that idea that if you happen to be born with the wrong skin color, or the wrong thing between your legs, then life is exceptionally hard on you and you are entitled to certain allowances because of your tragically unfair position. I heartily disagree. My dad grew up in a very poor, uneducated family and attended a public school in Texas where bullies would corner him in the bathroom stalls and kick him in the guts until he wet his pants—not because of his gender or his skin color, but because he was there. Does racial discrimination and sexism occur? Of course. But I find it difficult buy into the narrative that America is composed of oppressed minorities pitted against a secluded group of privileged white males who live in an oblivious bubble of puppies and rainbows and are positively flooded with racially biased opportunities. No matter how far you move up the social ladder, you will find people full of sadness, insecurity, and self-loathing. People who feel they were born in the wrong body, the wrong family, the wrong century, and the wrong planet. Point to anyone in your life whom you think has it better than you, and I can guarantee you that, ninety-nine percent of the time, that person feels the exact same way about someone else.
In this passage from Gatsby, Daisy is speaking with a hint of sarcasm. She’s not really happy to have a girl, and her tears are tears of despair, not joy. Better is she who was never born than she who can be nothing more than a “beautiful little fool.” But Fitzgerald is mistaken if he thinks that such sentiments are reserved for those in the bedrock of social strata. To support my argument, I turn to perhaps one of the most privileged people in history: Solomon, King of Jerusalem. Solomon acquires a kingdom to himself and everything he could possibly wish for—and yet he is miserable. Solomon writes, “Whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure...then I looked on all the works that my hands had done and on the labor in which I had toiled; and indeed all was vanity and grasping for the wind. There was no profit under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 2:10-11).
Later, Solomon speaks to those who are oppressed:
“And look! The tears of the oppressed, but they have no comforter—on the side of their oppressors there is power...therefore I praised the dead who were already dead, more than the living who are still alive. Yet, better than both is he who has never existed, who has not seen the evil work that is done under the sun” (Ecc. 4:1-3).
Sound familiar?
Clearly there is a psychological problem in every human being that has nothing to do with social status or career opportunities. I am of course stating a truism that has been repeated for centuries, but hasn’t been said once in the past week: you can have all the privileges in the world and still be unhappy. Perhaps that old man Jesus had a point when He said that it was not the rich, but the poor, who are blessed.
Picture Solomon walking out to the balcony as he surveys his city, knowing that everything the light touches is his own. And what is his conclusion? “Better is the man who was never born.” No matter how privileged you are, you still have nothing in the end.The wise man dies as the fool, the fool dies as the beast, and no one has the upper hand at the end of the day. Fitzgerald may be right when he says that there are certain luxuries “unequally parceled out at birth” but I find such an observation obvious and unhelpful. Solomon offers a much more profound and solid truth: “the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the warriors, and neither is bread to the wise nor wealth to discerning nor favor to men of ability; for time and chance overtake them all” (Ecc. 9:11).
Daisy believes that all a woman can be is a beautiful little fool, and yet Solomon says that all a man can be is...well, dead. Man or woman, king or peasant, slave or freeman, your destiny as a human being is a life of toil and vanity, and all return to the place from whence they came: the dust. So what do we do? Solomon says there is nothing left to do but eat, drink, and focus on the labor before us (Ecc. 3:23).
No matter where you come from, I hope my message remains universal: Don’t buy into the privilege game. Focus on what you have, work hard, and give thanks. If you’re worried about discrimination, just remember that “death does not discriminate between the sinners and the saints.” No matter who you are, life is very hard and very short, so let’s strengthen the things that remain.
For what profit has a woman if she gains the whole world and yet loses her soul?
