A little before three the Lutheran minister arrived from Flushing, and I began to look involuntarily out the windows for other cars. So did Gatsby’s father. And as the time passed and the servants came in and stood waiting in the hall, his eyes began to blink anxiously, and he spoke of the rain in a worried, uncertain way. The minister glanced several times at his watch, so I took him aside and asked him to wait for half an hour. But it wasn’t any use. Nobody came.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Great Gatsby. Chapter 9, we all die alone. Some of are buried alone, none more so than the great man Gatsby, for whom nobody besides the owl-eyed man, Nick and Gatsby’s dad turns up for his funeral. In this material world where money reigns there are no spiritual values. God and religion are dead, and the American dream corrupted. When Gatsby is stripped of his material possessions in death, those who flocked to his parties in life don’t bother to attend his funeral.