Review: Beautiful Little Fools
a beautiful little fool is anything but foolish.
March 7th, 2022
Anyone who knows me well will be able to easily attest that The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald is one of my all-time favorite pieces of classic literature. Ever since I first encountered the book in my 11th grade English class, I have had a profound appreciation for a story that I feel is larger than life. Perhaps what attracted me to Gatsby when I was 16, and what continues to attact me to it now, is its depth. Now, you might be thinking I'm crazy for saying such a novel has depth. After all, it is a story about partying, excessive drinking, and the musings of the super wealthy. Nothing but champagne problems and illicit affairs. I am here to challenge that line of thinking, of course. Gatsby is the kind of book reminiscent of an onion, or for a more palatable mental image, a rose. It has layers just waiting to be pulled back, and in dissecting and interpreting one facet of Fitzgerald's prose, you unfurl another layer, and another. Fitzgerald is able to fit important commentary about social class, gender dynamics, and morality into a relatively short novel.
This brings me to the purpose of this post (took me long enough). Knowing my appreciation for Gatsby, you can imagine my surprise and excitement when I happened across the historical fiction table at Barnes & Noble and found a wonderful book entitled Beautiful Little Fools by Jillian Cantor. This novel is, put simply, a retelling/reimagining of The Great Gatsby from the female perspective. The story switches perspectives between Daisy Buchanen, Jordan Baker, and a new character named Catherine. I was thrilled that someone had finally endeavored to look at the story from the perspective of the opposite gender, mostly because I have always felt the women in Gatsby are criminally underrated and wildly misunderstood. Of course, Daisy's misguided actions at the close of the novel are justification for scrutiny. Everyone has faults, of course. But I have never thought of her as the evil woman so many of my classmates thought she was. I really do think she has so much more to her than that, and I think it's rather unjustified to write her off as nothing but a fake, pretentious, horrible person. She was a woman, a wife, and a mother in the 1920s. She was, quite complicatedly, a product of her time. Jillian Cantor seems to be on the same page as me on this one, which I was so excited about. I started into the book on a blustery Sunday morning, and in my happiness for the story she was telling, finished it that same day.
Boy, oh boy. Do I have things to say.
Let me start off by saying that this book wholly and completely strips every male character of his glittery, socialite, "good guy" facade and depicts each for the power-hungry, obsessive, mysoginysic men they really were (except for Nick Carraway, who is rightfully depicted as nothing more than useless and unreliable...was that too harsh? I've never really liked that character). In Tom Buchanen's case, this is to be expected. He was an asshole in Gatsby (excuse my French) and he's the same in this book. Cantor's version of Jay Gatsby, though, hits you just like diving into a pool (get it?) of freezing water hits you--it is shocking at first, but immensely refreshing.
Maybe what I'm about to say next is too much of a spoiler, but I think it really makes a good argument for reading the book, so I'll keep typing.
Cantor creates a version of Gatsby that completely shatters the portrait Fitzgerald paints of him. Gone is the ever-hopeful, charismatic gentleman with good intentions, and in his place is an obsessive and manipulative love-sick fool who will do anything to get Daisy back, even at the expense of others. He treats her more like a trophy than a woman, and the places his obsession takes him are frankly disgusting. I love that this book has created a platform to discuss how quite literally every man in The Great Gatsby is rather...slimy.
But let's talk about the women! The focus of the book! Let me start by saying they are all the farthest thing from fools. While Daisy has every intention of coming off like a carefree, beautiful fool, she is obviously not. I was very happy with the amount of agency Cantor gave Daisy, Jordan, and Catherine. Because Catherine isn't a main character in Fitzgerald's version, I'm going to focus on Daisy and Jordan. The book commences before the main plot of Gatsby, in 1917 Louisville. Daisy and Jordan are both young, carefree girls and best friends. Cantor shows us the first meeting of Jay and Daisy, as well as the love that blooms fast and passionate between them. What was unexpected, but genius upon reflection, was Cantor's decision to incorporate familial tragedy into Daisy's plotline. I think it did really interesting things to her character, and provides the necessary justification for most of Daisy's actions from then on. Grief is a volatile thing, and it turns us into people we wouldn't normally be--makes us do things even though we don't want to do them. Desperate times call for desperate measures in Daisy's case, and I found myself really sympathizing with her. She's forced into an unfortunate situation, and she does exactly what she needs to do to survive. Daisy is and always has been all about survival and security--for herself and the few people she cares about. As a woman who's survival hinges on her reputation, Daisy has to make a lot of compromises or risk losing everything. It hurts to see her sacrifice her happiness and well-being for a husband and a life she hates, yet as the reader you can see why she has to do so. It's so complicated, and I loved that.
Jordan is just as strong as she is in Gatsby, fiercely independant and sure of herself. In this version, though, she also serves a more modern role in representing the LGBTQ+ community. It was wonderfully refreshing to see, and I honestly think it fit her character so well. As the reader, I could see how it really was a true part of her identity, and it subtly influenced everything she did in a way that I found freeing for her character. I thought she was truly pretty badass in this book.
Overall, I would give this book a 4/5 rating. I thought it was a really lovely piece of writing, and complemented The Great Gatsby in really interesting ways. Coming from a teaching perspective, because I am going to be one after all, I think it would be so interesting to compare this book with the original, looking at key passages/characters. But, I think considering time restraints in the classroom, I'd probably advise my classes that if they really did love Gatsby, they might be interested in reading this as a continuation of their exploration into the story. Of course, I'd also recommend it to all of you readers of this blog, who might still have a little spark (or a small flame?) of appreciation for this story and the lessons it has to give us.
Thanks for reading this (very long) blog post! I'd love to know your thoughts in the comments!
Fashionably yours,
Hanna