Something to chew on: I hated the Great Gatsby. Not so much because I abhorred the writing (I didn't), but because there was not a single thing I liked about Daisy and Gatsby (I felt a little sorry for Nick, but that was it). I haven't been able to bring myself to reread it since sixth form, when I was poisoned by F. Scott Fitzgerald. This article by Kathryn Schulz in New York Magazine has finally given me to understand why that might have been: not a skerrick of the emotional connection between them hits the page.
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