Gatsby's Funeral

Gatsby's Funeral, held on a rainy September afternoon, is the stark final act of Jay Gatsby's life, a burial that exposes the hollowness of the Jazz Age society he so desperately courted. Despite the hundreds who once flocked to his lavish parties, only a handful gather to mourn him: his father, Henry C. Gatz, the minister, Nick Carraway, a few servants, and the mysterious owl-eyed man. The event crystallizes the novel's central themes of isolation, the corruption of the American Dream, and the careless cruelty of the wealthy, as Nick, the sole true friend, witnesses the complete abandonment of a man who gave everything for an illusion.

The Gathering of the Few

The funeral procession, described by Nick as "our procession of three cars," was a pitiful contrast to the glittering parties Gatsby once threw. It consisted of a motor hearse, "horribly black and wet," followed by a limousine carrying Mr. Gatz, the minister, and Nick, and finally Gatsby's station wagon bearing four or five servants and the postman from West Egg, all "wet to the skin." The rain, which had been falling since Nick's return from New York, added a somber, oppressive weight to the scene. As they entered the cemetery, a car stopped and a figure splashed through the soggy ground—it was the owl-eyed man, whom Nick had encountered three months earlier marveling at the books in Gatsby's library. Nick had never seen him since and did not even know his name, yet this stranger, who had once been so impressed by Gatsby's "thoroughness" and "realism," was the only uninvited mourner to appear. His presence was a quiet testament to the fact that Gatsby's performance of wealth had, at least once, touched someone genuinely.

The Absence of the Guests

The most striking aspect of the funeral was the absence of those who had so freely enjoyed Gatsby's hospitality. Nick had spent the days after Gatsby's death trying to find anyone who would attend, calling people who had been regulars at the parties. One gentleman, who had "used to sneer most bitterly at Gatsby on the courage of Gatsby's liquor," implied that Gatsby "had got what he deserved." Ewing Klipspringer, the so-called "boarder" who had lived in Gatsby's house and played the piano for him, called not to offer condolences but to ask Nick to have the butler send on a pair of tennis shoes he had left behind, claiming he was "sort of helpless without them." Nick hung up on him in disgust. Meyer Wolfsheim, Gatsby's business partner and the man who had "made" him, refused to attend, saying, "I can't get mixed up in it," and later explained his rule: "When a man gets killed I never like to get mixed up in it in any way." Even Daisy Buchanan, for whom Gatsby had built his entire dream, sent no message and no flower. Nick, reflecting on this, remembered "without resentment" that she had not even acknowledged the death.

The Father's Grief and Pride

Henry C. Gatz, Gatsby's father, arrived from Minnesota after seeing the news in a Chicago newspaper. He was a "solemn old man, very helpless and dismayed," bundled in a long cheap ulster against the warm September day, his eyes "leaking continuously with excitement." He refused food, and a glass of milk spilled from his trembling hand. When Nick took him to see his son's body, he emerged with his mouth ajar and tears in his eyes, but his grief was soon mixed with "an awed pride" as he looked around the splendor of the hall. He told Nick that Jimmy—as he called Gatsby—"had a big future before him," and that if he had lived, he "would have been a great man," comparing him to James J. Hill. He showed Nick a photograph of the house that Gatsby had sent him, cracked and dirty from being handled so often, and a ragged copy of Hopalong Cassidy from Gatsby's boyhood, which contained a handwritten schedule and a list of "General Resolves" dated September 12, 1906. The schedule, with its rigid times for rising, exercise, study, and work, and the resolves to "Save $5.00 per week" and "Be better to parents," revealed the disciplined ambition of the young James Gatz. Mr. Gatz read each item aloud, expecting Nick to admire it, and noted that Jimmy "was always great for" improving his mind, even recalling that he had once beaten his son for telling him he "et like a hog." The father's pride in his son's achievements, however modest, stood in stark contrast to the indifference of the wealthy who had enjoyed Gatsby's parties.

The Burial and Its Aftermath

The Lutheran minister arrived from Flushing a little before three, and as the time passed, Mr. Gatz's eyes began to blink anxiously, and he spoke of the rain in a worried way. Nick asked the minister to wait half an hour, but it was no use—nobody came. At about five o'clock, the small procession made its way to the cemetery. As the rain poured down, the owl-eyed man took off his glasses to wipe them and see the canvas being unrolled from Gatsby's grave. Nick heard someone murmur, "Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on," and the owl-eyed man said "Amen to that" in a brave voice. Afterward, by the gate, the owl-eyed man remarked to Nick, "I couldn't get to the house," and when Nick replied, "Neither could anybody else," he started and said, "Why, my God! they used to go there by the hundreds." He took off his glasses and wiped them again, then said, "The poor son-of-a-bitch." This simple, profane epitaph was the most honest tribute Gatsby received. The funeral marked the end of Gatsby's story, but for Nick, it was the beginning of a deeper disillusionment. He later confronted Tom Buchanan, who admitted to telling George Wilson that Gatsby owned the yellow car, a confession that led to Gatsby's murder. Nick saw Tom and Daisy as "careless people" who "smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness." The funeral, with its rain, its few mourners, and its unspoken accusations, became the catalyst for Nick's decision to leave the East and return to the Midwest, carrying with him the memory of Gatsby's "incorruptible dream" and the green light that had once seemed so close.