Beautiful little fools

The mythical connection between material wealth and sexual prowess is one propagated by popular music videos, reality television programs and alcohol commercials alike. But does this idea have its roots in a feminist concept, in the “tokenization” of women by prosperous male personalities? F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous novel would seem to subscribe to this stereotype entirely, casting its female secondary protagonists as money-chasing shells of actual characters, appearing to the reader more as signals of success in love and finance. In this way, it would appear that the courtship process between male and female characters is synonymous with or indistinguishable from a meteoric rise to financial prominence. The correlation between male characters’ socioeconomic position and their level of sexual activity indicates that Fitzgerald designated his female characters primarily as tokens of wealth, thought of a man’s sexual activity with many women as a prize that follows from their financial stability.

Among the most obvious connections of sexuality and money is Tom Buchanan’s extramarital affairs. The most affluent character in the novel, Tom engages in sexual relationships of varying intensity with a number of lower-class women, most prominently in Gatsby with Myrtle Wilson. The nature of Myrtle’s attraction to Tom, and indeed the basis for their entire relationship, is founded on the material luxuries that sex with him would afford her — a relationship that Tom takes full advantage of throughout the novel. As the wealthiest man we meet in Fitzgerald’s novel, he also has far and away the most sexual relationships with the greatest number of women. This relationship between affluence and promiscuity is no coincidence, as it is indicative of Fitzgerald’s tokenization of women within the East Coast society he constructs. These women, the vast majority of them never introduced and only mentioned in passing by the characters, function only as indicators of Tom’s sexual prowess and, subsequently, his capitalist successes.

Of course, Gatsby’s relationship with Daisy is wholly dependent on monetary status, and his courtship of her is marked at first by fictionalized exaggerations of his own socioeconomic standing. Later, their romantic and physical relationship is reignited when Gatsby’s wealth is actually realized. Their physical relationship is entirely conditional to his affluence, and he only begins a sexual affair with her when it seems his financial affairs are in order — perhaps indicative of Gatsby’s understanding of Daisy’s standards or his own views about male sexuality. Daisy, discussed as being a “gold-digging” character, engages in sexual relationships with those men wealthy enough to fulfill her needs. Her sexuality is a prize for those men determined and rich enough to suit her requirements, and she tokenizes herself with these habits, with this promiscuity dependent upon her suitors’ relative incomes.

While some may present the case that Gatsby’s genuine romantic feelings for Daisy and his resultant monogamous sexual relationship with her would suggest that wealth does not necessitate sexual affairs, I would offer that Gatsby’s is a stolen wealth, a meteoric rise to affluence with a singular target in mind — winning the heart of Daisy Buchanan, a woman whose sexuality is lavished upon those few men with a bank account to satisfy her. Who can say, in an alternative fiction wherein Gatsby and Daisy’s romance outlives the tragic events in Fitzgerald’s final chapters, whether Jay would be cast as a womanizing husband in the future. Based on Fitzgerald’s portrayal of both his titular hero and other male protagonists in the novel, it stands to reason that he’d present Gatsby’s married life in very much the same way he does Tom’s.

Perhaps the most effective example of the correlation between material wealth and sexual ability is seen in a man with neither. Nick Carraway isn’t particularly well off, having made a relatively modest living off his bonds work and earning an estate dwarfed by Gatsby’s. Similar to the state of his bank account, his romance never entirely takes off, full of false starts and missed opportunities. Nick seems unable to fully express any feelings for Jordan, and finds himself “[not] actually in love [with her], but [feeling] a sort of tender curiosity” (62).¹ Even when he claims to be “half in love with her” (186),¹ he abstains from fighting for her, a hesitance indicative of his own insecurities. In Fitzgerald’s world, had Nick a confidence in monetary dealings, a sexual confidence would follow — Nick has neither, while other characters have both.

The correlation between sexual activity and acquisition wealth, similar to the popular culture archetypes so prevalent today, would suggest Fitzgerald’s understanding of women — at least, women who exist within the materialistic East Coast society he portrays in Gatsby — to be that of tokens, objects which follow a comfortable amount of wealth. Perhaps this is the reason Daisy claims that “the best thing a girl can be in this world [is] a beautiful little fool” (21),¹ as she recognizes the systematic objectification and commodification of her female compatriots as tokens in Fitzgerald’s chauvinist fiction.