Similarly to when I look back on my past, I found this book much more enjoyable once I stopped taking the main character so seriously. Then, instead of only cringing, I could also laugh as Amory continuously makes an ass of himself. F. Scott's beautiful turns of phrase lighten the blow as you push through the coming-of-age story of another young white male who desperately needs a therapist and a hug.

The story itself was quintessentially Fitzgerald as the writer floated in and around the plot in a dreamlike manner that could both entrance and confuse. Essentially it told the story of an egotistical Ivy League drop-out who gets humbled until his disillusionment with himself and the world starts to disappear. Saying the book didn't have a linear storyline would probably be kind, but again, Fitzgerald's dreamy prose would often make you forget you were lost in the first place.

It would be easy to say Amory sucked and deserved all that came to him, b/c honestly that's the truth. However, by the end, I looked back at his immature missteps with the hope that his character could finally learn and maybe laugh at his mistakes too. And if that isn't you're early 20's, I don't know what is.