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The Great Gatsby | Gradually Hardening French B2 Translation Books

The Great Gatsby | Gradually Hardening French B2 Translation Books

Discover the advantages of this innovative translation method, designed to cater to your learning needs. You can select your preferred difficulty level, ensuring a well-balanced challenge that isn't too overwhelming. This technique sharpens your comprehension skills by encouraging you to derive meaning from context, minimizing the need for direct translations. While some words are purposefully obscured to promote contextual guessing, looking up unclear terms is always an option. With this method, language learning becomes both accessible and enjoyable, blending challenge with support. Explore translated classics and experience the excitement of learning through literature.

I
Inmyyoungerandmore
vulnérable
vulnerableyearsmyfathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeversince.
“Wheneveryoufeellike
critiquer
criticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justrememberthatallthepeopleinthisworldhaven’thadtheadvantagesthatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’tsayanymore,butwe’vealwaysbeenunusuallycommunicativeinareservedway,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealmorethanthat.
Inconsequence,I’minclinedto
réserver
reservealljudgements,ahabitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestomeandalsomademethevictimofnotafewveteranbores.
The
anormal
abnormalmindisquickto
détecter
detectandattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsinanormalperson,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustly
accusé
accusedofbeingapolitician,becauseIwasprivytothesecretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.
Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeignedsleep,preoccupation,ora
hostile
hostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesignthatan
intime
intimaterevelationwasquiveringonthehorizon;
fortheintimaterevelationsofyoungmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,areusuallyplagiaristicandmarredbyobvioussuppressions.
Réserver
Reservingjudgementsisamatterof
infini
infinitehope.
IamstillalittleafraidofmissingsomethingifIforgetthat,asmyfathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,asenseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.
And,after
vanté
boastingthiswayofmy
tolérance
tolerance,Icometotheadmissionthatithasa
limite
limit.
Conductmaybefoundedonthehardrockorthewetmarshes,butafteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedon.
WhenIcamebackfromtheEastlastautumnIfeltthatIwantedtheworldtobeinuniformandatasortof
morale
moralattentionforever;
Iwantednomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesintothehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,themanwhogiveshisnametothisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,who
représentait
representedeverythingforwhichIhaveanunaffected
mépris
scorn.
Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewassomethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightened
sensibilité
sensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthat
enregistrent
registerearthquakestenthousandmilesaway.
Thisresponsivenesshadnothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignifiedunderthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftforhope,aromanticreadinesssuchasIhaveneverfoundinanyotherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverfindagain.
No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldust
flottait
floatedinthewakeofhisdreamsthat
temporairement
temporarilyclosedoutmyinterestintheabortivesorrowsandshort-windedelationsofmen.
Myfamilyhavebeenprominent,well-to-dopeopleinthisMiddle
Ouest
Westerncityforthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysaresomethingofa
clan
clan,andwehavea
tradition
traditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,buttheactual
fondateur
founderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sbrother,whocamehereinfifty-one,senta
substitut
substitutetotheCivilWar,andstartedthewholesale
quincaillerie
hardwarebusinessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.
Ineversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtolooklikehim—withspecial
référence
referencetotheratherhard-boiledpaintingthathangsinfather’soffice.
IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,justaquarterofacenturyaftermyfather,andalittlelaterI
participé
participatedinthatdelayedTeutonic
migration
migrationknownastheGreatWar.
Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughlythatIcameback
agité
restless.
Insteadofbeingthewarm
centre
centreoftheworld,theMiddleWestnowseemedlikethe
déchiqueté
raggededgeoftheuniverse—soIdecidedtogoEastandlearnthebondbusiness.
EverybodyIknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposeditcouldsupportonemoresingleman.
Allmyauntsandunclestalkeditoverasiftheywerechoosingaprepschoolforme,andfinallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withverygrave,hesitantfaces.
Fatheragreedto
financer
financemeforayear,andaftervariousdelaysIcameEast,
définitivement
permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.
The
pratique
practicalthingwastofindroomsinthecity,butitwasawarmseason,andIhadjustleftacountryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,sowhenayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwetakeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidea.
Hefoundthehouse,aweather-beatencardboard
bungalow
bungalowateightyamonth,butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,andIwentouttothecountryalone.
Ihadadog—atleastIhadhimforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andanold
Dodge
DodgeandaFinnishwoman,whomademybedandcookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnish
sagesse
wisdomtoherselfoverthe
électrique
electricstove.
Itwaslonelyforadayorsountilonemorningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedthanI,stoppedmeontheroad.
“HowdoyougettoWestEggvillage?”
heaskedhelplessly.
Itoldhim.
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehadcasuallyconferredonmethefreedomofthe
quartier
neighbourhood.
Andsowiththe
soleil
sunshineandthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarconvictionthatlifewasbeginningoveragainwiththesummer.
Therewassomuchtoread,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutoftheyoungbreath-givingair.
Iboughta
douzaine
dozenvolumesonbankingandcreditandinvestmentsecurities,andtheystoodonmy
étagère
shelfinredandgoldlikenewmoneyfromthe
monnaie
mint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidasandMorganandMaecenasknew.
AndIhadthehighintentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.
Iwasrather
littéraire
literaryincollege—oneyearIwroteaseriesofverysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingtobringbackallsuchthingsintomylifeandbecomeagainthatmost
limité
limitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”
Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeismuchmoresuccessfullylookedatfromasinglewindow,afterall.
ItwasamatterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedahouseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
ItwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhichextendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—andwherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,twounusualformationsofland.
Twentymilesfromthecityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontourandseparatedonlybya
courtoisie
courtesybay,jutoutintothemostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheWesternhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLongIslandSound.
Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyarebothcrushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysical
ressemblance
resemblancemustbeasourceof
perpétuel
perpetualwondertothegullsthatflyoverhead.
Tothewinglessamoreinteresting
phénomène
phenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticularexceptshapeandsize.
IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,theless
mode
fashionableofthetwo,thoughthisisamost
superficielle
superficialtagtoexpressthe
bizarre
bizarreandnotalittle
sinistre
sinistercontrastbetweenthem.
Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,and
serré
squeezedbetweentwohugeplacesthatrentedfortwelveorfifteenthousandaseason.
Theoneonmyrightwasa
colossale
colossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactual
imitation
imitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,withatowerononeside,spankingnewunderathin
barbe
beardofrawivy,anda
marbre
marbleswimmingpool,andmorethanfortyacresof
pelouse
lawnandgarden.
ItwasGatsby’s
manoir
mansion.
Or,rather,asIdidn’tknowMr.Gatsby,itwasa
manoir
mansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatname.
Myownhousewasaneyesore,butitwasasmalleyesore,andithadbeenoverlooked,soIhadaviewofthewater,a
partielle
partialviewofmyneighbour’s
pelouse
lawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.
Acrossthe
courtoisie
courtesybaythewhitepalacesof
mode
fashionableEastEggglitteredalongthewater,andthehistoryofthesummerreallybeginsontheeveningIdroveovertheretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.
Daisy
Daisywasmysecondcousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.
AndjustafterthewarIspenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Herhusband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofthemostpowerfulendsthateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureinaway,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchan
aiguë
acutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.
Hisfamilywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomwithmoneywasamatterforreproach—butnowhe’dleftChicagoandcomeEastinafashionthatrathertookyourbreathaway:
for
exemple
instance,he’dbroughtdowna
chaîne
stringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.
Itwashardtorealizethatamaninmyowngenerationwas
riche
wealthyenoughtodothat.
WhytheycameEastIdon’tknow.
TheyhadspentayearinFrancefornoparticularreason,andthen
dérivé
driftedhereandthereunrestfullywhereverpeopleplayedpoloandwererichtogether.
Thiswasa
permanent
permanentmove,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,butIdidn’tbelieveit—IhadnosightintoDaisy’sheart,butIfeltthatTomwould
dériver
driftonforeverseeking,alittlewistfully,forthedramatic
turbulence
turbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.
Andsoithappenedthatonawarm
venteux
windyeveningIdroveovertoEastEggtoseetwooldfriendswhomI
à peine
scarcelyknewatall.
Theirhousewasevenmore
élaborée
elaboratethanIexpected,acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgian
Colonial
Colonialmansion,overlookingthebay.
The
pelouse
lawnstartedatthebeachandrantowardsthefrontdoorforaquarterofamile,jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthehouse
dérivant
driftingupthesideinbrightvinesasthoughfromthemomentumofitsrun.
ThefrontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,glowingnowwith
reflété
reflectedgoldandwideopentothewarm
venteux
windyafternoon,andTomBuchananinridingclotheswasstandingwithhislegsapartonthefront
porche
porch.
HehadchangedsincehisNewHavenyears.
Nowhewasa
robuste
sturdystraw-hairedmanofthirty,witharatherhardmouthandasupercilious
manière
manner.
Twoshiningarroganteyeshad
établi
establisheddominanceoverhisfaceandgavehimtheappearanceofalwaysleaningaggressivelyforward.
Noteventheeffeminateswankofhisridingclothescouldhidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthetoplacing,andyoucouldseeagreatpackofmuscleshiftingwhenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.
Itwasabodycapableof
énorme
enormousleverage—acruelbody.
Hisspeakingvoice,agruffhuskytenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.
Therewasatouchofpaternal
mépris
contemptinit,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwhohadhatedhisguts.
“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtosay,“justbecauseI’mstrongerandmoreofamanthanyouare.”
Wewereinthesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewereneverintimateIalwayshadtheimpressionthatheapprovedofmeandwantedmetolikehimwithsome
dure
harsh,defiantwistfulnessofhisown.
Wetalkedforafewminutesonthe
ensoleillé
sunnyporch.
“I’vegotaniceplacehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hemoveda
large
broadflathandalongthefrontvista,includinginits
balayage
sweepasunkenItaliangarden,ahalf
acre
acreofdeep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthe
marée
tideoffshore.
“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearoundagain,
poliment
politelyandabruptly.
“We’llgoinside.”
Wewalkedthroughahigh
couloir
hallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.
Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrassoutsidethatseemedtogrowalittlewayintothehouse.
Abreezeblewthroughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneendandouttheotherlikepaleflags,
tordant
twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeofthe
plafond
ceiling,andthenrippledoverthewine-coloured
tapis
rug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthesea.
Theonlycompletelystationaryobjectintheroomwasan
énorme
enormouscouchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponan
ancré
anchoredballoon.
Theywerebothinwhite,andtheirdresseswereripplingandflutteringasiftheyhadjustbeenblownbackinafterashortflightaroundthehouse.
Imusthavestoodforafewmomentslisteningtothe
fouet
whipandsnapofthecurtainsandthe
gémissement
groanofapictureonthewall.
ThentherewasaboomasTomBuchananshutthe
arrière
rearwindowsandthecaughtwinddiedoutabouttheroom,andthecurtainsandtherugsandthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.
Theyoungerofthetwowasastrangertome.
Shewasextendedfull
longueur
lengthatherendofthedivan,completelymotionless,andwithher
menton
chinraisedalittle,asifshewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelytofall.
Ifshesawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshegaveno
indice
hintofit—indeed,Iwasalmostsurprisedintomurmuringanapologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingin.
Theothergirl,
Daisy
Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleaned
légèrement
slightlyforwardwithaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,an
absurde
absurd,charminglittlelaugh,andIlaughedtooandcameforwardintotheroom.
“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughedagain,asifshesaidsomethingverywitty,andheldmyhandforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promisingthattherewasnooneintheworldshesomuchwantedtosee.
Thatwasawayshehad.
Shehintedinamurmurthatthesurnameofthebalancinggirlwas
Baker
Baker.
(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomakepeoplelean
vers
towardher;
anirrelevantcriticismthatmadeitnolesscharming.)
Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,she
hoché
noddedatmealmostimperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedherheadbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadobviouslytotteredalittleandgivenhersomethingofa
frayeur
fright.
Againasortofapologyarosetomylips.
Almostany
exposition
exhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsastunned
hommage
tributefromme.
Ilookedbackatmycousin,whobegantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrillingvoice.
Itwasthekindofvoicethattheearfollowsupanddown,asifeachspeechisan
arrangement
arrangementofnotesthatwillneverbeplayedagain.
Herfacewassadandlovelywithbrightthingsinit,brighteyesandabrightpassionatemouth,buttherewasan
excitation
excitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforherfounddifficulttoforget:
asingingcompulsion,a
murmure
whispered“Listen,”apromisethatshehaddonegay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceandthatthereweregay,excitingthings
plane
hoveringinthenexthour.
ItoldherhowIhadstoppedoffinChicagoforadayonmywayEast,andhowa
douzaine
dozenpeoplehadsenttheirlovethroughme.
“Dotheymissme?”
shecriedecstatically.
“Thewholetownisdesolate.
Allthecarshavetheleft
arrière
rearwheelpaintedblackasamourning
couronne
wreath,andthere’sapersistentwailallnightalongthenorthshore.”
“Howgorgeous!
Let’sgoback,Tom.
Tomorrow!”
Thensheaddedirrelevantly:
“Yououghttoseethebaby.”
“I’dliketo.”
“She’sasleep.
She’sthreeyearsold.
Haven’tyoueverseenher?”
“Never.”
“Well,yououghttoseeher.
She’s—”.
TomBuchanan,whohadbeenhoveringrestlesslyabouttheroom,stoppedandrestedhishandonmyshoulder.
“Whatyoudoing,Nick?”
“I’mabondman.”
“Whowith?”
Itoldhim.
“Neverheardofthem,”he
remarquer
remarkeddecisively.
Thisannoyedme.
“Youwill,”Iansweredshortly.
“YouwillifyoustayintheEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayintheEast,don’tyouworry,”hesaid,glancingat
Daisy
Daisyandthenbackatme,asifhewere
alerte
alertforsomethingmore.
“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
AtthispointMiss
Baker
Bakersaid:
“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthefirstwordshehadutteredsinceIcameintotheroom.
Évidemment
Evidentlyitsurprisedherasmuchasitdidme,forsheyawnedandwithaseriesof
rapides
rapid,deftmovementsstoodupintotheroom.
“I’mstiff,”she
plainte
complained,“I’vebeenlyingonthat
canapé
sofaforaslongasIcanremember.”
“Don’tlookatme,”
Daisy
Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingtogetyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”
“No,thanks,”saidMiss
Baker
Bakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthe
garde-manger
pantry.
“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Her
hôte
hostlookedatherincredulously.
“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwereadropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouevergetanythingdoneisbeyondme.”
IlookedatMiss
Baker
Baker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”
Ienjoyedlookingather.
Shewasa
mince
slender,small-breastedgirl,withanerectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikeayoung
cadet
cadet.
Hergreysun-strainedeyeslookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocal
curiosité
curiosityoutofawan,charming,discontentedface.
ItoccurredtomenowthatIhadseenher,orapictureofher,somewherebefore.
“YouliveinWestEgg,”she
remarquer
remarkedcontemptuously.
“Iknowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’tknowasingle—”.
“YoumustknowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demanded
Daisy
Daisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
BeforeIcould
répondre
replythathewasmy
voisin
neighbourdinnerwasannounced;
wedginghis
tendu
tensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweremovingacheckertoanothersquare.
Slenderly,languidly,theirhandsset
légèrement
lightlyontheirhips,thetwoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoarosy-coloured
porche
porch,opentowardthesunset,wherefourcandlesflickeredonthetableinthediminishedwind.
“Whycandles?”
objected
Daisy
Daisy,frowning.
Shesnappedthemoutwithherfingers.
“Intwoweeksit’llbethelongestdayintheyear.”
Shelookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyoualwayswatchforthelongestdayoftheyearandthenmissit?
Ialwayswatchforthelongestdayintheyearandthenmissit.”
“Weoughttoplansomething,”yawnedMiss
Baker
Baker,sittingdownatthetableasifsheweregettingintobed.
“Allright,”said
Daisy
Daisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdopeopleplan?”
BeforeIcouldanswerhereyesfastenedwithanawed
expression
expressiononherlittlefinger.
“Look!”
she
plainte
complained;
“Ihurtit.”
Wealllooked—theknucklewasblackandblue.
“Youdidit,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,butyoudiddoit.
That’swhatIgetformarryinga
brute
bruteofaman,agreat,big,hulkingphysical
spécimen
specimenofa—”.
“Ihatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”
insisté
insistedDaisy.
SometimessheandMiss
Baker
Bakertalkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandwithabanteringinconsequencethatwasneverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedressesandtheirimpersonaleyesintheabsenceofalldesire.
Theywerehere,andtheyacceptedTomandme,makingonlya
poli
politepleasantefforttoentertainortobeentertained.
Theyknewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoverandalittlelatertheeveningtoowouldbeoverandcasuallyputaway.
Itwas
nettement
sharplydifferentfromtheWest,whereaneveningwashurriedfrom
phase
phasetophasetowardsitsclose,ina
continuellement
continuallydisappointedanticipationorelsein
pure
sheernervousdreadofthemomentitself.
“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”I
avoué
confessedonmysecondglassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.
“Can’tyoutalkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularbythis
remarque
remark,butitwastakenupinanunexpectedway.
“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTom
violemment
violently.
“I’vegottentobeaterriblepessimistaboutthings.
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbythismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”Ianswered,rathersurprisedbyhistone.
“Well,it’safinebook,andeverybodyoughttoreadit.
Theideaisifwedon’tlookoutthewhiteracewillbe—willbeutterlysubmerged.
It’sall
scientifique
scientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”