The Summer of Oprah: The Summer We Read Gatsby

This summer, Erin Balser is reading all 20 titles on Oprah’s Summer Reading List. The Summer of Oprah will be chronicled on Books@Torontoist every Monday and Thursday throughout July and August. Today is the last installment of the series.

When I was younger I spent my summers dreaming about how different I would be come fall, when it was time to go back to school. I’d be taller, thinner, and prettier. I’d be smarter and funnier. I’d gain fashion sense and confidence. I’d be someone people paid attention to in my high school hallways. Yet these dramatic changes never happened. Every September, I went back to school with the same friends and the same hair.

As I grew older, I began to realize that this kind of change only happens in books and movies. I started to focus on sports and working, on having fun and hanging out. Nothing life-changing, but everything that was actually worthwhile. One day, school ended. I entered the real world. And summers transitioned from this time of great possibility into simply another season, flowing from spring to summer to fall, year after year.

Until this summer.

In The Summer We Read Gatsby (spoiler: The Great Gatsby is a minor plot point, nothing more), my final Oprah read, one summer changes the lives of the Morairty sisters, two women who are related but couldn’t be more different. When they co-inherit a house with the expectation they will live there together until the place is sold, they learn about each other, their family, and themselves. Their summer is a mad-cap romantic comedy with a dash of mystery, filled with stolen kisses and tennis whites. It’s a G-rated Gossip Girl with a dash of Veronica Mars for grown ups. Like the many characters and their themed-Hamptons beach bashes, the novel tries a little too hard, but can’t help but be charming in its effort.

I entered this project skeptical but open minded, wanting to prove to myself that the argument I used about Oprah—that she’s better for the world of books than bad for it—was in fact true. I came out having read more books this summer than I have in entire years. I read books I’d never give a second glance, books I’d normally openly trash, books whose titles bored me and premises bothered me. I tolerated many of the books, hated several, and liked more than I expected.

Oprah opens readers to possibilities. Her picks can be eye-rolling, problematic or downright awful, and she isn’t the right guide for every reader. But if her selections make readers, regardless of how they feel about the Oprah Book Club, stop and think, challenges preconceived notions of what makes a good read (or a bad one), and get people talking about the titles she chooses, well, then she’s done her job.

Peck and Cassie’s aunt does her job too. She tells them to discover “the thing of utmost importance,” and it is, obviously, each other. Of course the sisters don’t realize this, but their hunt brings them closer. It’s this growing bond that holds the book together. Each character is very much a cliché—Cassie, the sarcastic intellectual, Peck, the ditzy wannabe Hollywood diva, Barbara, the wannabe socialite, Miles, the wealthy mogul with no taste, Hamilton, the pompous posh Brit, I could go on (and on and on). However, the novel isn’t about being original, it’s about having fun. It’s light-hearted and silly and, like Oprah, doesn’t try to be anything it’s not. It’s a book to read lounging in the summer sun, cocktail in hand.

What better way to end your summer than with a book that embraces the very best of the season?

This summer was all about new experiences, good and bad. I bought a house. I lost a grandparent. I wrote a book. I got a job. I read more than I’ve ever read in my life. Like the Moriarty sisters, I stopped trying to understand what my world was becoming and simply went with the flow, embracing the zany characters and bizarre occurrences that filled my days. I stopped planning and start living. Because change happens when you least expect it. You can’t plan it, you simply must embrace it. Peck teaches Cassie this, and it’s something time has taught me.

I wish the 13-year-old me had known this.

Sometimes, it’s not the big moments that are remembered, but the little ones. There are plenty of show-stopping scenes in The Summer We Read Gatsby, but the quiet ones have the most impact, returning to you long after you put the book down. Art is stolen and houses burn down, but Peck and Cassie giggling over dressing drinks or divvying up their aunt’s possessions is what packs the punch.

This summer was all about new experiences, good and bad. I bought a house. I lost a grandparent. I wrote a book. I got a job. I read more than I’ve ever read in my life. When you list everything that happened to me this summer, reading 20 books because Oprah said I should sounds pretty insignificant. But reading these books became such an ingrained part of my summer. They were with me all the time, in bed, on the subway, at the dinner table, while watching television. They were in every room, taking over bookshelves, floors and coffee tables. They were there for each of these bigger moments, sitting open, waiting for my life to calm down so I could pick them up and start reading again. It’s this quiet presence that will define my summer and why it was, and always will be, the summer of Oprah.

Illustration by Brian McLachlan/Torontoist