Parasite is the Great Gatsby of our Era

I said to my wife in the car after seeing  Parasite that it was Gatsby. I hadn't thought about it since but the more that film resonates and now after getting Best Picture I really do believe it is a modern parable much in the same vein of F. Scott Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby. Both stories involve class stratification and ultimately class warfare. Parasite and Gatsby may be culturally worlds apart but they both tell the story of the American Dream or the World Dream gone bad.
 
Gatsby's telling of Tom Buchannan's world of privilege that Gatsby has bought his way into by being a bootlegger is much the same as the Kim's world of buying their way into the one percent  by posing as servants to the upper class. Deception is key in both stories. Gatsby fakes his lineage and the source of his money while the Kim's fake their pedigrees of education and serving the rich. The protagonists of both parables are doomed by their efforts to move up and ultimately destroyed by the forces that hold them down.

While Gatsby is but a 1920s singular comment on the American Dream as it existed in early twentieth century America, Parasite spreads out and gives the world view that the dream of having a family and living a life of satisfying work, leisure, with a comfortable home and a better world for our children transcends the boundaries of America and reaches into the corners of the world as a modern comment on the ongoing struggle between the haves and have nots. In both cases, Gatsby being shot by Myrtle Wilsons deranged husband and the Kim's destruction at the hand of the deranged husband of the housekeeper are eerily similar in that the rich use the very people they oppress to murder those who dare to break out of their class. Ninety five years separate these two stories, but the world that is painted is much the same.

william hazelgrove

Are there no workhouses for the ninety nine?

The one percent, a covetous, crotchety old one percent bent over his figures with only a candle for warmth while the ninety nine sits out in the tank scrounging for coal. Please sir may I have an extension of me unemployment benefits or me payroll tax for the holiday. Tis only happens once a year and we would like to make a little merry. The one percent rose up over his candle and looked over. And a fine thing for picking  me pocket with your social security and your medicaid and your unemployment. No. Not another scrap for you ninety nine.

And at that two men came in with their hats off and asked the one percent if they might tax him a bit to help the poor. Are there no workhouses? Are there no prisons? There are sir and they are full of the ninety nine we are sad to say. Oh. I thought something might have put them out of their usual vigor. No. No. You will get no tax from me for those lazy beggars who haven't the gumption to do something for themselves. But sir, it is Christmas and the ninety nine already pay the tax and many will soon die from hunger. Then let them do it and decrease the surplus population! Be  gone you ninety nine scoundrels and leave me to my business!

At that his nephew approached. Uncle One Percent. What is it you ninety nine. I suppose you have your hand out too? I have come from Wall Street to wish you the one percent a merry Christmas. Why? Why? Would you do that? Because uncle, we are but fellow journeyers to the grave and there is nothing you can do for that. Then why are you happy? Why not uncle? I am young and poor and you are rich and old. One day you will die and decrease the surplus population. Then the world will change.

Bah Humbug!
So a Merry Christmas to you one percent!
Bah Humbug!
And a happy new year!

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