Modern Spectacle and the Hollow Gaze: A Study of Surveillance, Self-Display, and Moral Collapse in The Great Gatsby and the Age of Social Media

Paper 106 : The Twentieth Century Literature: 1900 to World War II

This blog is part of my assignment on Paper no : 106 and in this I'm going to deal with the topic ...

Modern Spectacle and the Hollow Gaze: A Study of Surveillance, Self-Display, and Moral Collapse in The Great Gatsby and the Age of Social Media

Personal information 

Name :- Krupali Belam 

Batch :- M.A. Sem 2 (2024-2026)

Enrollment Number :- 5108240007

E-mail: krupalibelam1204@gmail.com 

Roll Number :- 13

Assignment details

Topic :- Modern Spectacle and the Hollow Gaze: A Study of Surveillance, Self-Display, and Moral Collapse in The Great Gatsby and the Age of Social Media

Paper & subject code :-  Paper 106: The Twentieth Century Literature: 1900 to World War II

Submitted to :- Smt. Sujata Binoy Gardi, Department of English, MKBU, Bhavnagar

Date of Submission:- 17 April 2024

Table of Contents

• Keywords
• Introduction: The “Spectacle” in Modernist Fiction
• Gatsby’s Persona: The Original Influencer?
• The Eyes of Eckleburg: Surveillance, Morality, and Guilt
• Nick as the First Passive Scroller: Witness Without Action
• Spectacle, Desire, and the Green Light as Algorithmic Fantasy
• From Gatsby to Instagram: Digital Echoes of the Unreal City
• Comparative Reflection: Tribhanga and the Feminine Gaze
• Conclusion: Can Authenticity Survive in the Age of Watching?
• Works Cited

• Keywords

Modernism, Spectacle, Surveillance, The Great Gatsby, Social Media, Guy Debord, Dr. T. J. Eckleburg, Foucault, Digital Identity, Instagram, Moral Collapse

• Introduction :   The “Spectacle” in Modernist Fiction

The 20th century bore witness to a seismic shift in human consciousness brought on by industrialization, war, and the rise of consumer culture. In this context, modernist literature emerged not just as a new aesthetic mode but as a profound critique of contemporary society. One of the most powerful theoretical lenses to understand this critique is Guy Debord’s concept of the “spectacle.” In The Society of the Spectacle, Debord argues: “The spectacle is not a collection of images; it is a social relation between people that is mediated by images” (Debord).

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby (1925) is not merely a novel about wealth and love; it is a prophetic exploration of the emergence of spectacle as a dominant cultural force. Gatsby’s world is a carefully orchestrated illusion of grandeur, where appearances and perceptions define reality. The novel foreshadows our present-day digital condition where identity, morality, and truth are mediated through images, screens, and curated performances.

This paper examines The Great Gatsby through the critical frameworks of Debord and Michel Foucault, connecting the text to contemporary issues of social media, surveillance capitalism, and digital identity. It also draws comparative insights from Renuka Shahane’s film Tribhanga (2021), offering a feminist lens on performativity and the burden of public image. The central thesis is that The Great Gatsby not only anticipates the age of social media but critiques the psychological and moral collapse inherent in societies that prioritize spectacle over substance.

• Gatsby’s Persona: The Original Influencer?

Jay Gatsby is perhaps literature’s first influencer a man who carefully curates an image designed to captivate, attract, and seduce not only a woman but an entire social class. His lavish parties, his mysterious background, and his curated wardrobe all serve as props in the theatre of self-display. Fitzgerald describes his gatherings as theatrical performances: “men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars” (Fitzgerald).

Gatsby’s identity is a patchwork of constructed myths. Rumors swirl about him that he killed a man, that he was a German spy. His past is a blank canvas upon which society projects its fantasies. Similarly, today’s influencers construct identities based on likes, filters, and engagement metrics. Their success is often determined less by authenticity and more by the coherence of their digital persona.

Gatsby's infamous assertion, “Can’t repeat the past? Why of course you can!” (Fitzgerald), captures the psychology of digital nostalgia, where users repost, filter, and recreate memories to suit the aesthetics of the present. In both cases, the self becomes a performance for an imagined audience, and the boundary between reality and representation becomes increasingly porous.

Debord’s observation that “In the spectacle, images have supplanted real social life” (Debord) is crucial here. Gatsby lives more in the mythos of his curated self than in the reality of his experiences. In the same vein, social media users often become actors in the theatre of their digital lives, prioritizing the gaze over genuine experience.

• The Eyes of Eckleburg: Surveillance, Morality, and Guilt 

The billboard with the disembodied eyes of Dr. T. J. Eckleburg is one of the most haunting symbols in The Great Gatsby, serving as a visual representation of omnipresent surveillance, spiritual decay, and moral detachment in a consumerist society. Fitzgerald describes the eyes as “blue and gigantic their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles” (Fitzgerald). Located in the Valley of Ashes a bleak and desolate area between West Egg and New York City the billboard presides over the moral wasteland where industrial byproducts and human failures accumulate. The imagery suggests a blind, indifferent observer: present, imposing, and watchful, yet entirely passive. These eyes do not belong to a person, a god, or even a character in the narrative they are a hollow gaze, emblematic of how society has replaced divine oversight with impersonal surveillance and superficial judgement.

In a theological reading, the eyes have often been interpreted as a stand-in for a godless modern world, a decayed substitute for divine moral authority. George Wilson, distraught after his wife Myrtle’s death, speaks of them as though they carry spiritual significance, crying out, “God sees everything” (Fitzgerald). However, the novel ironically places these “godlike” eyes on an advertisement for an oculist, reducing sacred judgment to a consumer product. This distortion of the divine aligns with the modern condition Debord critiques in The Society of the Spectacle, where representations—whether advertisements, social images, or curated personas replace authentic human experience. The eyes do not offer justice, wisdom, or consolation; they simply watch, a haunting precursor to the way digital platforms now monitor every digital footprint.

The motif powerfully parallels Michel Foucault’s concept of the Panopticon, where a central observer instills discipline simply by being potentially watchful. The key to panoptic control lies in the subject's internalization of the gaze. Even if the observer isn’t always watching, the possibility that they might be exerts social pressure and behavioral conformity. Similarly, in The Great Gatsby, the characters are aware of the figurative and literal gaze whether it’s Daisy’s social circle, Tom’s patriarchal scrutiny, or society at large. But no figure epitomizes this better than Eckleburg’s billboard, silently looming over their every moral collapse. It doesn’t act, correct, or intervene it merely records in its passive omniscience.

In today's world, this gaze has transformed into a digital panopticon: our behaviors, preferences, movements, and even emotions are continually tracked by corporations and algorithms. Surveillance capitalism, a term popularized by Shoshana Zuboff, echoes this: our data is harvested, analyzed, and commodified for targeted advertising and political influence. We willingly engage in self-surveillance by sharing our lives online, while simultaneously being monitored by invisible systems. Much like the eyes of Eckleburg, the systems don’t judge us in a moral or ethical sense, but they still shape our behavior by creating a framework of visibility and reward. If Eckleburg’s eyes once loomed over the ashes of broken dreams and false progress, today they might be seen in the glowing lenses of our smartphone cameras, the recommendation algorithms on our screens, or the ever-present “read receipts” in our messaging apps.

Furthermore, this idea extends to moral responsibility and guilt. Just as the billboard’s gaze never condemns but quietly implicates, social media creates environments where wrongdoings are exposed, but not always addressed with depth or justice. Cancel culture, viral outrage, and performative activism operate within a spectacle of accountability that may lack actual transformation. People are exposed, shamed, and forgotten, often without structural change. In Gatsby’s world, moral collapse is evident in Tom and Daisy’s careless destructiveness they are “smashers” who retreat into privilege after causing ruin. The watching eyes do nothing to stop them. This impotence of moral systems, both then and now, reflects a society more concerned with appearances than ethical action.

In sum, Dr. T. J. Eckleburg’s eyes act as a chilling symbol of how surveillance divine or digital can lose its moral dimension when mediated through spectacle. They force us to ask: does being seen make us better, or just more performative? Does visibility equate to virtue? Or are we, like Fitzgerald’s characters, merely posing under the gaze, waiting for it to blink?

• Nick as the First Passive Scroller: Witness Without Action

Nick Carraway, the novel’s narrator, is a curious figure morally reflective yet largely inactive. He observes, records, and judges, but seldom intervenes. In many ways, he resembles the archetypal passive scroller of the digital age, consuming stories, images, and scandals with a detached sense of voyeurism.

One of Nick’s most revealing lines is: “I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life” (Fitzgerald). This ambivalence is emblematic of digital spectatorship. Social media users often oscillate between fascination and fatigue, empathy and apathy. The overwhelming flood of content induces a sense of helplessness, encouraging observation over action.

Nick’s failure to confront Tom Buchanan’s brutality or Daisy’s complicity reflects the digital age’s moral inertia. In a world saturated with injustice and spectacle, the scroller becomes desensitized. The screen becomes a barrier that protects from responsibility. Nick documents Gatsby’s downfall with precision but refrains from altering the course of events.

The novel subtly critiques this passivity. By the end, Nick is disillusioned, not just with the Buchanans but with his own role as a passive participant. This self-awareness mirrors the existential crises faced by digital spectators, who recognize their complicity in systems of exploitation but feel powerless to resist.

•  Spectacle, Desire, and the Green Light as Algorithmic Fantasy

Perhaps the most enduring symbol of The Great Gatsby is the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. To Gatsby, it represents hope, desire, and the promise of a future that can never be attained. Fitzgerald writes: “He stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way… and distinguished nothing except a single green light” (Fitzgerald).

From a psychoanalytic perspective, the green light functions as what Lacan terms the objet petit a  the unattainable object of desire that propels human behavior. Gatsby’s life is structured around this fantasy. Yet, it is a fantasy that always recedes, always just out of reach. In the digital age, the green light takes the form of algorithmic seduction. Likes, shares, retweets, and follower counts dangle before users, promising validation that is always temporary.

Debord writes, “The more he contemplates, the less he lives… the less he understands his own existence” (Debord). This contemplation of the unattainable leads to a fragmented sense of self. Gatsby believes that by achieving Daisy, he can redeem his past and secure his future. Similarly, social media users chase metrics, hoping to validate their existence through digital performance.

The green light also critiques capitalist promises of success. It glows, alluring and bright, but offers no real fulfillment. Gatsby dies still chasing it. The algorithmic loop of social media operates on similar logic: constant engagement, no satisfaction.

• From Gatsby to Instagram: Digital Echoes of the Unreal City

Fitzgerald’s America is a land of illusion a carnival of excess, spectacle, and decay. The East and West Eggs, the Valley of Ashes, and New York function as zones of fantasy and moral erosion. Eliot’s phrase “unreal city” from The Waste Land resonates deeply here, as Fitzgerald paints a world where substance is replaced by surface.

Social media is the new unreal city. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok are glittering metropolises of curated identity. They promise connection but often breed comparison and loneliness. Gatsby’s mansion, with its music, laughter, and lights, is a precursor to the digital stage, where lives are performed rather than lived.

This performance demands emotional labor. Influencers, like Gatsby, must constantly produce content, maintain image, and stay relevant. Behind the spectacle lies exhaustion, insecurity, and isolation. Fitzgerald’s critique of the American Dream finds its modern counterpart in the performative pressures of digital capitalism.

The Valley of Ashes, a wasteland of failed dreams, is the price paid for this performance. Today’s mental health crisis, driven by social media-induced anxiety, depression, and burnout, is our Valley of Ashes a place where the cost of spectacle becomes unbearably real.

•  Comparative Reflection: Tribhanga and the Feminine Gaze

Renuka Shahane’s film Tribhanga (2021) offers a feminist and postmodern meditation on identity, performance, and media scrutiny. The story centers on three generations of women Nayantara, Anuradha, and Masha each grappling with public judgment, personal trauma, and the burden of spectacle.

Anuradha, an actress and dancer, is constantly scrutinized by media for her language, dress, and lifestyle. Her mother Nayantara, a writer, is vilified for prioritizing her art over domestic roles. Their lives are consumed, interpreted, and sensationalized by an ever-watching audience.

Like Gatsby, these women construct identities in response to the gaze. They are not afforded the privilege of privacy. Every choice becomes a statement; every failure, a scandal. The gaze is gendered and moralizing, reflecting a society that demands performance yet punishes autonomy.

Tribhanga critiques the costs of such performative existence. Anuradha’s anger, Masha’s conformity, and Nayantara’s idealism are all responses to a world that mistakes image for essence. The film echoes Gatsby’s tragedy: the hollowness of a life lived for others.

• Conclusion: Can Authenticity Survive in the Age of Watching?

The Great Gatsby is a tale of illusion, but it is also a warning. It reveals the emotional and moral bankruptcy that follows when life becomes a performance and the self becomes a brand. In the age of social media, this lesson is more relevant than ever.

We are all, in some sense, Gatsby now—curating our images, chasing validation, and living under the watchful eyes of both human and algorithmic spectators. The green light has multiplied into screens, notifications, and likes. Eckleburg’s eyes have moved into our phones.

Yet, the act of reading, analyzing, and reflecting offers a form of resistance. Awareness disrupts the spectacle. Nick’s eventual disillusionment, though painful, marks a return to authenticity. Perhaps this is the hope Fitzgerald leaves us with that even in an age of watching, the choice to live authentically still exists.

Works Cited

Debord, Guy. “Society of the Spectacle.” marxixt.org, 1967, www.marxists.org/reference/archive/debord/society.htm. Accessed 14 Apr. 2025.

Fitzerald, F. Scott. “The Great Gatsby.” Project Gutenberg, 10 Apr. 1925, www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/64317/pg64317-images.html.

Foucault, Michel. “Discipline and Punish : The Birth of the Prison.” Internet Archive, 1979, archive.org/details/disciplinepunish0000fouc/mode/1up. Accessed 14 Apr. 2025.

Shahane, Renuka, director. Tribhanga. Ajay Devgn Films, 2021.