R. Clifton Spargo knows how to find the un-findable.

When confronted by the great absence in the late portion of doomed jazz age/literary power couple F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald’s mad and troubled romance—their undocumented trip to Cuba—he did what any debut novelist with enough gumption to change careers would do: he fabricated (and went to Cuba himself), with style and perceptive nuance.

Ever since it was announced that Baz Luhrmann would be filming an adaptation of The Great Gatsby, I’ve been in something like the five stages of grief.  I mean, we’ve all witnessed what became of Romeo and Juliet after being pressed through the sieve of Luhrmann’s sensibilities.  It went in a tragedy and came out a tragicomedy music video.  Which is a little fantastic, I have to admit, but not quite … right.   And now my beloved Gatsby, like Romeo before him, has been officially Luhrmannized despite my many pleas that I would do anything if Luhrmann would just remake Streets of Fire instead.  Another thing I have to admit is that I’ve watched this trailer more than once since it debuted yesterday, and I might just be approaching acceptance. Anticipation, even.  Here’s a look at Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby: