Throughout the Middle Ages, to be noble was to be chivalrous, and chivalry dictated how one must speak, think, and act. European knights were guided by this code, believing that by being loyal and serving their masters well, they could one day become respected, honored, and perhaps progress in their political careers. A means through which this ideology ensorcelled the minds of so many young men was through cultural productions: stories, plays, ballads—all of which the  public consumed ravenously, feeding their candle-lit illusions, escaping an era in which their survival was indefinite. The most honorable way to become chivalrous was through courtly love—a very specific, ritualistic romance between a knight and his lady. In a typical story (and sometimes in practice), the knight devotes himself to a lady, and through completing arduous quests, proves himself worthy of the lady and attains her. According to historian Barbara Tuchman,  “The chivalric love affair moved from worship through declaration of passionate devotion, virtuous rejection...heroic deeds or valor which won the lady’s heart by prowess” (Tuchman 70). In this process, women acted as objects—“inspirer[s] of male glory”—to “enoble a man, to improve him in every way” (Tuchman 70). Such chivalrous romances and the protocols portrayed were valued in real life by knights, who aimed to follow the same path of chivalry and devotion. 

Gatsby, the titular character of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, though a businessman during the roaring Twenties, operates under a mindset extremely similar to that of the medieval knight, clinging onto a cult that glorifies the world in which one lives and alters one’s worldview. The rose-tinted realities produced by the parallel moral codes—chivalry and the American Dream—assert that through hard work, anyone can achieve prominence, respect, and social standing. In Gatsby’s mind, Daisy is the noble, high-born lady for him to worship, court, and acquire, reflecting the type of love medieval knights taken by the fervor of chivalry had for their ladies. In his idyllic delusions, Gatsby’s romance perfectly follows the typical tale of chivalry, and these delusions ultimately affected those around Gatsby as well.

Gatsby’s mind shoehorns his relationship with Daisy into tropes of chivalric romances. Furthermore, Daisy is encapsulated in Gatsby’s delusions to the point where Gatsby ignores all qualities that set her apart from the innocent, pure lady from the chivalric romances. His actions replicate the way a knight must act in front of his lady; his “love” for her resembles worship, an important aspect of courtly love. Through their interactions, it is obvious that Gatsby is subordinate to Daisy in their dynamic, with Gatsby contributing immensely to please Daisy and Daisy simply receiving. Gatsby fills Nick’s room with flowers for their reunion and “revalue[s] everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes” (Fitzgerald 91), displaying the importance of Daisy’s amusement and opinion from within Gatsby’s lens. Everything that he does here is to please Daisy and align his actions and possessions in accordance to her views of them. 

Most of his relationship with Daisy is in his head, believing they had longed for each other for five years. These fantasies bolstered his confidence in the hotel room, claiming without a doubt that Daisy was leaving with him. When he found out it was not the case, that Daisy’s devotion for him was not as pure and unwavering as his own, he was shocked, uttering, “You loved me too?” (Fitzgerald 132). He learns that he was not the only one to whom Daisy was devoted and that he was not as special to her as he thought. Part of him refuses to accept that. His naive assumptions draw from a common trope from typical chivalrous tales of the journeyed knight coming back for the lady after gaining prominence. Said journey separates them physically, but they are connected through their hearts. Gatsby’s optimistically biased perception of their relationship even affects his view of Daisy’s character. In Gatsby’s mind, Daisy is forever that “nice girl” and the former belle of Louisville. Any sign that she is different from the woman he knew five years ago baffles Gatsby, including the fact that she is now a married mother, “looking at [Daisy’s] child with surprise,” never “really [believing] in its existence” (Fitzgerald 117). Through his denial of Daisy’s contradictory traits, Gatsby never sees Daisy for who she truly is: a selfish woman who is unprepared to give up her frivolous lifestyle. Gatsby ignores the real Daisy because in his mind, Daisy possesses all the qualities to fit into a particular model for his quest, and it must stay that way. Without Daisy playing the central role of knight’s lady, Gatsby’s journey towards the American Dream would fall apart. 

Gatsby sees in Daisy her preciousness and value accumulated from her years of growing up sheltered with wealthy parents. She has what Gatsby lacks: that “nobility” of the American Dream that only those born into wealth possess. Thus, Gatsby believes that he could overcome the barrier between his world and the world of “old money” through marrying Daisy. Throughout his childhood, Gatsby has always wanted to be better, live better. He was not content in his humble lifestyle and strove to fulfill his destiny as “a son of God” (Fitzgerald 98). He wanted to enter the exclusive, forbidden society of old money, the fulfillment of the American Dream,  and Daisy was the manifestation of all those sentiments, a tangible version of his previously vague aspirations. As Persson put it, “[Gatsby’s] idea of social status and wealth becomes associated with his love of her, the embodiment of these qualities.” Daisy was bred in high society, her world “redolent of orchids'' (Fitzgerald 151); she was “the king’s daughter, the golden girl” (Fitzgerald 120), just like the coveted medieval noblewomen to whom the heroes swear their love. Comfort and luxury were all that she knew, both stemming from her birth and heritage. An inherent nobility and refinement radiates from her; as Gatsby once remarked, even “her voice is full of money” (Fitzgerald 120). These traits make Daisy desirable and valued, not only to Gatsby but by many men. She is unreachable and sought after, but these are the very qualities that attract Gatsby. He “becomes impressed with her beautiful home and many boyfriends”  (Telgen), which “increased her value in his eyes” (Fitzgerald 149). Daisy becomes the ideal lady to reach for and become worthy of: the elegant, unachievable, and coddled girl who is a trophy granted to whoever wins her heart—a token for the victor who defeated many wealthy men. 

Claiming her heart would not only satisfy Gatsby’s chivalric fantasies but also push him towards the world he dreams of entering, because he would have been chosen by such a well-known, desired, valuable woman from among so many cultured men. The harder the process was for Gatsby, the more he wanted to have her. Daisy defined the journey Gatsby could not consolidate on his own; it was a journey of proving himself better than her suitors, to reach his light. The “face-off” between Tom and Gatsby parallels the archetypical “duel for the maiden’s hand,” each suitor fighting to prove themselves worthy of the lady. Tom ultimately wins Daisy’s love with the revelation that Gatsby may have earned his wealth through a bootlegging business, tarnishing Gatsby’s image of honor and amplifying Tom’s. Despite the final result of Gatsby’s mission, this task he bestows upon himself in the first place reflects the common anecdote of the knight winning honor, chivalry, and his lady’s hand in multiple ways. Even the purposes of the journeys—following a moral code excessive with idealism—mirror each other. Like medieval knights, Gatsby sees this love as self-elevating. Medieval knights loved so that they could be more chivalrous, while Gatsby loved so that he could be closer to achieving the American Dream.  

It seems as though Gatsby’s tale of valor is not solely for himself, as it is brought to life through Nick’s narrative. Gatsby's effort and perseverance as he pines for Daisy and her world comes off as childlike but also endearing. “There may be something pathetic in Gatsby’s class striving, but there’s something innocent about it, too” (Spargo). With Nick’s retelling, Gatsby really does become that valiant knight seeking his grail, and his sinister methods he uses to achieve his quest are deemed insignificant. From the bootlegging to his dealings with Wolfstein, Gatsby’s past is brushed over; it was as if Nick purposefully crafted the story in a way that compels the reader to forget these details. Looking beyond his cheating and lying, readers are presented with Gatsby’s “gift for hope” and his noble sacrifices for Daisy (Fitzgerald 2). In addition, Nick contrasts Gatsby heavily from Tom and Daisy, describing them as fickle people who hide behind their money while Gatsby steps up and takes the blame. “Like her husband Tom (and virtually all who inhabit Gatsby’s world), Daisy is a rapacious consumer of things and people, a base betrayer, lacking Gatsby's idealism that gives his world value and the moral sense that Nick ultimately finds wanting in their self-indulgence and self-protection” (Burt). This contrast between the idealism of Gatsby and the superficiality and malice of the Buchanan couple is sprinkled throughout Nick’s narrative. An example of this partiality in his narrative is revealed most vividly right after Myrtle’s death: Daisy and Tom are “conspiring” over cold chicken as Gatsby, with great virtue and innocence of their conversation’s purpose, guards his lady, standing silently outside her house (Fitzgerald 145). Daisy and Tom are immediately vilified, and Gatsby becomes the unfortunate gentleman whose demise was caused by his own righteousness and devotion, a knight who was brought down by someone for whom he gave so much.

 Throughout the novel, Tom is the brutish dragon Gatsby must defeat. He is the opposite of Gatsby: he was born into wealth, is not devoted, and has Daisy. With someone like Tom serving as a foil, Gatsby fits into his character—the hero on a quest who must conquer the powerful villain. Nick also uses Wilson (another “foil”), a character very similar to Gatsby, to enhance Gatsby’s greatness. Wilson is devoted to his wife, Myrtle, and wants to bring her out West—the moral center of the world in Nick’s opinion—and also toils everyday at his gas station just like Gatsby worked hard for his money. However, Wilson is never able to achieve what Gatsby did: Veradame states, “while George works diligently for his piece of the American dream, he will never achieve ...the wealth of the title character, Jay Gatsby.” Gatsby’s failures in achieving the American Dream are covered up by George, who was never able to realize any success. Next to George, the unfortunate, somewhat pathetic cuckold, Gatsby's greatness is enhanced, and readers ignore the “how” of Gatsby’s success and instead focus on the fact that his hard work amounted to success.  Nick controls the story through his language and perspective, tearing Tom and everyone else down while describing Gatsby’s hope and delusions in a dream-like way. With Nick’s manipulation, readers are unable to dislike Gatsby. Instead, they think like Nick, enchanted by Gatsby’s idealism, captured by his pursuits. Like a knight in the cult of chivalry, Gatsby is able to affect those around him—he is an inspirer, a bringer of hope for those who need it. Like the medieval peasants who were trying to pull through in war-torn Europe, Nick—a disillusioned WWI veteran who has seen the worst of human nature—needed hope and escapism through idyllic tales, thus retelling Gatsby’s story as a stirring but failed effort.

Gatsby’s romantic view of Daisy is parallel to the lens through which young men viewed the fantastical worlds of medieval romances filled with inspiration. Young men were taken by the fervor of chivalry, putting their lives on the line for their lords, jousting for their honor, and fighting duels to win the hand of their lady. That “love” is what drives them to strive to be on top, and that “love” is what makes them honorable. At one point, chivalry faded due to an eventual realization that their deaths were pointless, and that they were rarely rewarded for how hard they strove. Oftentimes, chivalry is not achieved; the medieval world was dark, bloody, and disease was rampant. Serving your lord did not end in proving self-worth, but an ugly death.  Gatsby chases the American Dream and Daisy like knights honor chivalry. In a sense, his own ending is poetic, befitting of a disillusioned knight who lost his lady’s love, falling on the battlefield. 

Works cited:

Burt, Daniel S. “The Great Gatsby.” The Novel 100, Revised Edition, Facts On File, 2010. Bloom's Literature, online.infobase.com/Auth/Index?aid=160250&itemid=WE54&articleId=47590. Accessed 20 Dec. 2020.

Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. Scribner, 2004.

Persson, Hanna. “A Study of Daisy Buchanan’s Influence on Jay Gatsby in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby.”

Spargo, R. Clifton. “Why Every American Should Read The Great Gatsby , Again.” HuffPost, HuffPost, 9 June 2013, www.huffpost.com/entry/great-gatsby-rereading_b_3046378?guccounter=1.

Tuchman, Barbara W. A Distant Mirror: the Calamitous 14th Century. Random House Trade Paperbacks, 2014. 

"The Great Gatsby." In Novels for Students, edited by Diane Telgen, 64-86. Vol. 2. Detroit, MI: Gale, 1997. Gale eBooks (accessed December 17, 2020). link.gale.com/apps/doc/CX2591500014/GLS?u=nysl_me_scarshs&sid=GLS&xid=010e5a65.

Verderame, Carla L. “The American Dream in The Great Gatsby.” Encyclopedia of Themes in Literature, Facts On File, 2020. Bloom's Literature, online.infobase.com/Auth/Index?aid=160250&itemid=WE54&articleId=39162. Accessed 20 Dec. 2020