You know the phrase "doomed by the narrative" that's been floating around recently? That's what this book feels like. Poor, poor, sweet, delusional Gatsby. He's one of my favorite characters of all time, honestly. I've read this book many times, and that's never changed. Gatsby's gift for hope is always deeply, painfully moving, especially given the story ends the way it does. There are some problematic elements here, it's true, but they're pretty minor and easy to overlook.