I
Inmyyounger
et
andmorevulnerableyearsmypère
fathergavemesomeadviceque
thatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeverdepuis
since.“Wheneveryoufeellikecriticizinganyone,”he
dit
toldme,“justrememberthattoutes
allthepeopleinthismonde
worldhaven’thadtheadvantagesque
thatyou’vehad.”Hedidn’t
dire
sayanymore,butwe’vetoujours
alwaysbeenunusuallycommunicativeinareservedmanière
way,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealplus
morethanthat.Inconsequence,I’minclinedtoreserve
tous
alljudgements,ahabitthathasouvert
openedupmanycuriousnaturestomeet
andalsomademethevictimofnotune
afewveteranbores.Theabnormalmindisquicktodetect
et
andattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsinanormalpersonne
person,andsoitcameaboutque
thatincollegeIwasunjustlyaccusedofbeingapolitician,parce que
becauseIwasprivytothesecretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeigned
sommeil
sleep,preoccupation,orahostilelevityquand
whenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesigne
signthatanintimaterevelationwasquiveringonthehorizon;fortheintimaterevelationsofyoungmen,
ou
oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,areusuallyplagiaristicet
andmarredbyobvioussuppressions.Reservingjudgementsis
une
amatterofinfinitehope.Iamstill
un
alittleafraidofmissingquelque chose
somethingifIforgetthat,asmypère
fathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,un
asenseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.Et
And,afterboastingthiswayofmytolerance,Iviens
cometotheadmissionthatithasune
alimit.Conductmaybefoundedonthehardrock
ou
orthewetmarshes,butaprès
afteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedsur
on.WhenIcamebackfrom
le
theEastlastautumnIsenti
feltthatIwantedthemonde
worldtobeinuniformet
andatasortofmoralattentionforever;I
voulais
wantednomoreriotousexcursionsavec
withprivilegedglimpsesintothehumain
humanheart.OnlyGatsby,themanwho
donne
giveshisnametothislivre
book,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,whorepresentedtout
everythingforwhichIhaveun
anunaffectedscorn.Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewas
quelque chose
somethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightenedsensitivitytothepromisesofvie
life,asifhewererelatedtooneofces
thoseintricatemachinesthatregisterearthquakesdix
tenthousandmilesaway.Thisresponsivenesshad
rien
nothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignifiedunderthenom
nameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftforhope,aromanticreadinesssuchasIhavejamais
neverfoundinanyotherpersonne
personandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverretrouverai
findagain.No—Gatsbyturnedout
tout
allrightattheend;itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldustfloatedinthe
sillage
wakeofhisdreamsthattemporarilyfermé
closedoutmyinterestintheabortivesorrowset
andshort-windedelationsofmen.My
famille
familyhavebeenprominent,well-to-dopeopleincette
thisMiddleWesterncityfortrois
threegenerations.TheCarrawaysaresomethingofaclan,
et
andwehaveatraditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,mais
buttheactualfounderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sfrère
brother,whocamehereinfifty-one,envoyé
sentasubstitutetotheCivilGuerre
War,andstartedthewholesalehardwarebusinessthatmypère
fathercarriesontoday.I
jamais
neversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtoressembler
looklikehim—withspecialreferencetotheratherhard-boiledpaintingqui
thathangsinfather’soffice.IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,
juste
justaquarterofacenturyaprès
aftermyfather,andapeu
littlelaterIparticipatedinthatdelayedTeutonicmigrationknownasle
theGreatWar.Ienjoyed
le
thecounter-raidsothoroughlythatIcamebackrestless.Insteadofbeing
le
thewarmcentreofthemonde
world,theMiddleWestnowseemedlikele
theraggededgeoftheuniverse—soIdecidedtogoEastet
andlearnthebondbusiness.Tout le monde
EverybodyIknewwasinle
thebondbusiness,soIsupposeditpourrait
couldsupportonemoresinglehomme
man.Allmyauntsanduncles
parlé
talkeditoverasiftheywerechoosingune
aprepschoolforme,et
andfinallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withtrès
verygrave,hesitantfaces.Fatheragreedtofinancemefor
un
ayear,andaftervariousdelaysIcameEast,permanently,Ipensais
thought,inthespringoftwenty-two.La
Thepracticalthingwastotrouver
findroomsinthecity,mais
butitwasawarmseason,et
andIhadjustleftapays
countryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,soquand
whenayoungmanatla
theofficesuggestedthatweprenions
takeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidée
idea.Hefoundthehouse,
un
aweather-beatencardboardbungalowateightyun
amonth,butatthedernière
lastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,et
andIwentouttothecampagne
countryalone.Ihadadog—at
moins
leastIhadhimforaquelques
fewdaysuntilheranaway—andanvieux
oldDodgeandaFinnishfemme
woman,whomademybedet
andcookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnishwisdomtoherselfovertheelectricstove.Itwaslonelyfora
jour
dayorsountilonematin
morningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedque
thanI,stoppedmeonla
theroad.“HowdoyougettoWestEggvillage?”
he
demandé
askedhelplessly.Itoldhim.
Et
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehadcasuallyconferredonme
la
thefreedomoftheneighbourhood.Et
Andsowiththesunshineet
andthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarconvictionthatvie
lifewasbeginningoveragainavec
withthesummer.Therewassomuchto
lire
read,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutofthejeune
youngbreath-givingair.Ibought
une
adozenvolumesonbankinget
andcreditandinvestmentsecurities,et
andtheystoodonmyshelfinrouge
redandgoldlikenewmoneyfromthemint,promettant
promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsque
thatonlyMidasandMorganet
andMaecenasknew.AndIhadthehighintentionof
lire
readingmanyotherbooksbesides.Iwasratherliteraryincollege—one
année
yearIwroteaseriesoftrès
verysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andmaintenant
nowIwasgoingtoramener
bringbackallsuchthingsintomyvie
lifeandbecomeagainthatplus
mostlimitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”Ce
Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeisbeaucoup
muchmoresuccessfullylookedatfromasinglewindow,après
afterall.Itwasa
question
matterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedamaison
houseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.ItwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhichextendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—and
où
wherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,deux
twounusualformationsofland.Twentymilesfromthe
ville
cityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontouret
andseparatedonlybyacourtesybay,jutoutintotheplus
mostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheWesternhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLong
LongIslandSound.Theyarenotperfectovals—like
les
theeggintheColumbusstory,theyaredeux
bothcrushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysicalresemblancedoit
mustbeasourceofperpetualwondertoles
thegullsthatflyoverhead.Tothewingless
un
amoreinterestingphenomenonistheirdissimilarityintous
everyparticularexceptshapeandsize.IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,thelessfashionableofthe
deux
two,thoughthisisamostsuperficialtagtoexpressthebizarreet
andnotalittlesinistercontrastentre
betweenthem.Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,
et
andsqueezedbetweentwohugeplacesqui
thatrentedfortwelveorfifteenthousandaseason.Theoneonmy
droite
rightwasacolossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactualimitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,avec
withatowerononecôté
side,spankingnewunderathinbeardofrawivy,et
andamarbleswimmingpool,et
andmorethanfortyacresoflawnet
andgarden.ItwasGatsby’smansion.
Ou
Or,rather,asIdidn’tconnaissais
knowMr.Gatsby,itwasun
amansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatnom
name.Myownhousewasaneyesore,
mais
butitwasasmalleyesore,et
andithadbeenoverlooked,soIhadaviewofla
thewater,apartialviewofmyneighbour’slawn,et
andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.AcrossthecourtesybaythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEggglitteredalongthewater,
et
andthehistoryofthesummervraiment
reallybeginsontheeveningIdroveoverlà-bas
theretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.Daisywasmy
second
secondcousinonceremoved,andI’dconnu
knownTomincollege.And
juste
justafterthewarIspentdeux
twodayswiththeminChicago.Her
mari
husband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofles
themostpowerfulendsthateverjoué
playedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureinamanière
way,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchanacutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethattout
everythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.His
famille
familywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomavec
withmoneywasamatterforreproach—butmaintenant
nowhe’dleftChicagoandvenu
comeEastinafashionqui
thatrathertookyourbreathaway:forinstance,he’d
apporté
broughtdownastringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.Itwas
difficile
hardtorealizethatahomme
maninmyowngenerationwaswealthyenoughtofaire
dothat.WhytheycameEastIdon’t
sais
know.Theyhadspenta
an
yearinFrancefornoparticularreason,et
andthendriftedhereandthereunrestfullywherevergens
peopleplayedpoloandwererichensemble
together.Thiswasapermanentmove,
dit
saidDaisyoverthetelephone,mais
butIdidn’tbelieveit—Ihadpas
nosightintoDaisy’sheart,mais
butIfeltthatTomallait
woulddriftonforeverseeking,un
alittlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.Et
AndsoithappenedthatonawarmwindyeveningIdroveovertoEastEggtovoir
seetwooldfriendswhomIscarcelyconnaissais
knewatall.Theirhousewaseven
plus
moreelaboratethanIexpected,un
acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingla
thebay.Thelawnstartedatthebeach
et
andrantowardsthefrontporte
doorforaquarterofun
amile,jumpingoversundialset
andbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallyquand
whenitreachedthehousedriftingupthecôté
sideinbrightvinesassi
thoughfromthemomentumofitscourait
run.Thefrontwasbrokenby
une
alineofFrenchwindows,glowingmaintenant
nowwithreflectedgoldandwideouvert
opentothewarmwindyafternoon,et
andTomBuchananinridingclotheswastenait
standingwithhislegsapartonle
thefrontporch.Hehad
changé
changedsincehisNewHavenyears.Maintenant
Nowhewasasturdystraw-hairedhomme
manofthirty,witharatherhardmouthet
andasuperciliousmanner.Twoshiningarroganteyeshadestablisheddominance
sur
overhisfaceandgavehimla
theappearanceofalwaysleaningaggressivelyforward.Not
même
eventheeffeminateswankofhisridingclothespouvait
couldhidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillces
thoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedle
thetoplacing,andyoupouvait
couldseeagreatpackofmuscleshiftingquand
whenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.Itwas
un
abodycapableofenormousleverage—acruelcorps
body.Hisspeakingvoice,agruffhuskytenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.
Therewas
une
atouchofpaternalcontemptinit,même
eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenqui
whohadhatedhisguts.“Now,don’t
pensez
thinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtodire
say,“justbecauseI’mstrongeret
andmoreofamanque
thanyouare.”Wewerein
la
thesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewerejamais
neverintimateIalwayshadla
theimpressionthatheapprovedofmeet
andwantedmetolikehimavec
withsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhispropre
own.Wetalkedfora
quelques
fewminutesonthesunnyporch.“I’vegot
une
aniceplacehere,”hedit
said,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.Tournant
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hedéplacé
movedabroadflathandalongtheavant
frontvista,includinginitssweepasunkenItaliangarden,ademi
halfacreofdeep,pungentroses,et
andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthetideoffshore.“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearound
nouveau
again,politelyandabruptly.“We’ll
irons
goinside.”Wewalkedthrough
un
ahighhallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintola
thehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.Thewindowswereajar
et
andgleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrassoutsidequi
thatseemedtogrowapeu
littlewayintothehouse.Abreezeblew
travers
throughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneextrémité
endandouttheotherlikepaleflags,twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheceiling,et
andthenrippledoverthewine-colouredrug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthesea.Theonlycompletelystationaryobjectintheroomwas
un
anenormouscouchonwhichdeux
twoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponun
ananchoredballoon.Theywere
deux
bothinwhite,andtheirdresseswereripplinget
andflutteringasiftheyhadjuste
justbeenblownbackinaprès
afterashortflightaroundthemaison
house.Imusthavestoodfora
quelques
fewmomentslisteningtothewhipet
andsnapofthecurtainset
andthegroanofapictureonle
thewall.Thentherewas
un
aboomasTomBuchananfermait
shuttherearwindowsandthecaughtwinddiedoutabouttheroom,et
andthecurtainsandtherugset
andthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.Le
Theyoungerofthetwowasun
astrangertome.Shewasextendedfulllengthather
extrémité
endofthedivan,completelymotionless,et
andwithherchinraisedun
alittle,asifshewerebalancingquelque chose
somethingonitwhichwastout à fait
quitelikelytofall.Ifshe
voyait
sawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshedonnait
gavenohintofit—indeed,Iwaspresque
almostsurprisedintomurmuringanapologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingen
in.Theothergirl,Daisy,
fait
madeanattempttorise—sheleanedslightlyforwardavec
withaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurd,charmingpetit
littlelaugh,andIlaughedaussi
tooandcameforwardintola
theroom.“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughed
nouveau
again,asifshesaidquelque chose
somethingverywitty,andheldmymain
handforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promettant
promisingthattherewasnooneinle
theworldshesomuchwantedtovoir
see.Thatwasawayshehad.
Shehintedin
un
amurmurthatthesurnameofthebalancingfille
girlwasBaker.(I’veheardit
dire
saidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytofaire
makepeopleleantowardher;une
anirrelevantcriticismthatmadeitpas
nolesscharming.)Atanyrate,
Mlle
MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatmepresque
almostimperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedhertête
headbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadobviouslytotteredun
alittleandgivenherquelque chose
somethingofafright.Again
une
asortofapologyarosetomylips.Presque
Almostanyexhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsun
astunnedtributefromme.I
regardé
lookedbackatmycousin,qui
whobegantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrillingvoice.Itwas
le
thekindofvoicethatle
theearfollowsupandbas
down,asifeachspeechisun
anarrangementofnotesthatwilljamais
neverbeplayedagain.Her
visage
facewassadandlovelyavec
withbrightthingsinit,brighteyeset
andabrightpassionatemouth,mais
buttherewasanexcitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforhertrouvaient
founddifficulttoforget:a
chanter
singingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”apromesse
promisethatshehaddonegay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceet
andthatthereweregay,excitingthingshoveringinthenexthour.I
dit
toldherhowIhadarrêté
stoppedoffinChicagoforune
adayonmywayEast,et
andhowadozenpeoplehadenvoyé
senttheirlovethroughme.“Dothey
manque
missme?”shecriedecstatically.
“The
toute
wholetownisdesolate.Allthecars
ont
havetheleftrearwheelpaintednoir
blackasamourningwreath,et
andthere’sapersistentwailtoutes
allnightalongthenorthshore.”“Howgorgeous!
Let’sgoback,Tom.
Tomorrow!”
Thensheaddedirrelevantly:
“Yououghtto
voir
seethebaby.”“I’dliketo.”
“She’sasleep.
She’s
trois
threeyearsold.Haven’tyoueverseenher?”
“Never.”
“Well,yououghtto
voir
seeher.She’s—”.
TomBuchanan,
qui
whohadbeenhoveringrestlesslyaboutla
theroom,stoppedandrestedhismain
handonmyshoulder.“Whatyou
fais
doing,Nick?”“I’mabondman.”
“Whowith?”
I
dit
toldhim.“Neverheardofthem,”heremarkeddecisively.
Thisannoyedme.
“Youwill,”I
répondis
answeredshortly.“Youwillifyou
restez
stayintheEast.”“Oh,I’ll
resterai
stayintheEast,don’tyouworry,”hedit
said,glancingatDaisyandthenbackatmoi
me,asifhewerealertforquelque chose
somethingmore.“I’dbeaGoddamnedfoolto
vivre
liveanywhereelse.”Atthispoint
Mlle
MissBakersaid:“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddenness
que
thatIstarted—itwasthepremier
firstwordshehaduttereddepuis
sinceIcameintotheroom.Evidentlyitsurprisedherasmuchasitdid
moi
me,forsheyawnedandavec
withaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstoodupintola
theroom.“I’mstiff,”shecomplained,“I’vebeenlyingonthatsofaforaslongasIcanremember.”
“Don’t
regarde
lookatme,”Daisyretorted,“I’vebeenessayé
tryingtogetyoutoNewYorktout
allafternoon.”“No,thanks,”said
Mlle
MissBakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthepantry.“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Herhost
regarda
lookedatherincredulously.“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwereadropin
le
thebottomofaglass.“Howyouevergetanything
faire
doneisbeyondme.”I
regardé
lookedatMissBaker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”Ienjoyed
regarder
lookingather.Shewasaslender,small-breasted
fille
girl,withanerectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowinghercorps
bodybackwardattheshoulderscomme
likeayoungcadet.Hergreysun-strainedeyes
regardaient
lookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocalcuriosityoutofune
awan,charming,discontentedface.Itoccurredtome
maintenant
nowthatIhadseenher,ou
orapictureofher,somewhereavant
before.“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“I
connais
knowsomebodythere.”“Idon’t
connais
knowasingle—”.“Youmust
connaître
knowGatsby.”“Gatsby?”
demandedDaisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
Avant
BeforeIcouldreplythathewasmyneighbourdîner
dinnerwasannounced;wedginghistensearmimperatively
sous
undermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweredéplaçait
movingacheckertoanothersquare.Slenderly,languidly,theirhandssetlightlyontheirhips,the
deux
twoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoun
arosy-colouredporch,opentowardthesunset,où
wherefourcandlesflickeredonthetableinthediminishedwind.“Whycandles?”
objectedDaisy,frowning.
Shesnappedthemout
avec
withherfingers.“Intwoweeksit’llbe
le
thelongestdayintheyear.”She
regardait
lookedatusallradiantly.“Doyou
toujours
alwayswatchforthelongestjour
dayoftheyearandthenmanquez
missit?Ialwayswatchfor
le
thelongestdayintheyearet
andthenmissit.”“Weoughtto
planifier
plansomething,”yawnedMissBaker,sittingdownatla
thetableasifsheweregettingintocoucher
bed.“Allright,”saidDaisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdo
gens
peopleplan?”BeforeIcould
répondre
answerhereyesfastenedwithune
anawedexpressiononherpetit
littlefinger.“Look!”
shecomplained;
“I
blessé
hurtit.”Wealllooked—theknucklewasblack
et
andblue.“Youdidit,Tom,”she
dit
saidaccusingly.“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,
mais
butyoudiddoit.That’swhatIgetfor
épousé
marryingabruteofahomme
man,agreat,big,hulkingphysicalspecimenofa—”.“I
déteste
hatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”“Hulking,”insistedDaisy.
Parfois
SometimessheandMissBakerparlaient
talkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandavec
withabanteringinconsequencethatwasjamais
neverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedresseset
andtheirimpersonaleyesintheabsenceoftout
alldesire.Theywerehere,
et
andtheyacceptedTomandmoi
me,makingonlyapolitepleasantefforttoentertainou
ortobeentertained.They
savaient
knewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoveret
andalittlelatertheeveningaussi
toowouldbeoverandcasuallyputaway.Itwassharply
différent
differentfromtheWest,whereaneveningwashurriedfromphasetophasetowardsitsclose,inacontinuallydisappointedanticipationou
orelseinsheernervousdreadofthemomentitself.“You
faites
makemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”Iconfessedonmydeuxième
secondglassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.“Can’tyou
parler
talkaboutcropsorsomething?”Imeant
rien
nothinginparticularbythisremark,mais
butitwastakenupinanunexpectedmanière
way.“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTomviolently.
“I’vegottentobe
un
aterriblepessimistaboutthings.Haveyou
lu
readTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbycet
thismanGoddard?”“Why,no,”I
répondis
answered,rathersurprisedbyhistone.“Well,it’s
un
afinebook,andeverybodyoughttolire
readit.Theideais
si
ifwedon’tlookoutla
thewhiteracewillbe—willbeutterlysubmerged.It’s
tout
allscientificstuff;it’sbeenproved.”