I
InmyyoungerandmorevulnerableyearsmyfathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeversince.
“Wheneveryoufeellikecriticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justrememberthatallthepeopleinthisworldhaven’thadtheadvantagesthatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’tsayanymore,butwe’vealwaysbeen
ungewöhnlich
unusuallycommunicativeinareservedway,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealmorethanthat.Inconsequence,I’minclinedtoreservealljudgements,a
gewohnheit
habitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestomeandalsomademethevictimofnotafewveteranbores.Theabnormalmindisquicktodetectandattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsinanormalperson,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustly
beschuldigt
accusedofbeingapolitician,becauseIwasprivytothesecretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeignedsleep,preoccupation,orahostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesignthatanintimate
offenbarung
revelationwasquiveringonthehorizont
horizon;fortheintimaterevelationsofyoungmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,areusuallyplagiaristicandmarredbyobvioussuppressions.
Reservingjudgementsisamatterofinfinitehope.
IamstillalittleafraidofmissingsomethingifIforgetthat,asmyfathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,asenseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.
And,after
geprahlt
boastingthiswayofmytoleranz
tolerance,Icometotheeingeständnis
admissionthatithasagrenze
limit.Conductmaybefoundedonthehardrockorthewetmarshes,butafteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedon.
WhenIcamebackfromtheEastlastautumnIfeltthatIwantedtheworldtobeinuniformandatasortofmoralattentionforever;
Iwantednomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesintothehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,themanwhogiveshisnametothisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,whorepresentedeverythingforwhichIhaveanunaffected
verachtung
scorn.Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewassomethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightened
empfindlichkeit
sensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthatregistrieren
registerearthquakestenthousandmilesaway.Thisresponsivenesshadnothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichis
würdig
dignifiedunderthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftforhope,aromanticreadinesssuchasIhaveneverfoundinanyotherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverfindagain.No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldust
schwebte
floatedinthewakeofhisdreamsthatvorübergehend
temporarilyclosedoutmyinterestintheabortivesorrowsandshort-windedelationsofmen.Myfamilyhavebeenprominent,well-to-dopeopleinthisMiddleWesterncityforthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysaresomethingofa
clan
clan,andwehaveatradition
traditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,buttheactualgründer
founderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sbrother,whocamehereinfifty-one,sentaersatz
substitutetotheCivilWar,andstartedthewholesalehardwarebusinessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.Ineversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtolooklikehim—withspecial
hinweis
referencetotheratherhard-boiledpaintingthathangsinfather’soffice.IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,justaquarterofacenturyaftermyfather,andalittlelaterIparticipatedinthatdelayedTeutonic
migration
migrationknownastheGreatWar.Ienjoyedthecounter-raidso
gründlich
thoroughlythatIcamebackunruhig
restless.Insteadofbeingthewarm
zentrum
centreoftheworld,theMiddleWestnowseemedliketheraggededgeoftheuniverse—soIdecidedtogoEastandlearnthebondbusiness.EverybodyIknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposeditcouldsupportonemoresingleman.
Allmyauntsandunclestalkeditoverasiftheywerechoosingaprepschoolforme,andfinallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withverygrave,hesitantfaces.
Fatheragreedto
finanzieren
financemeforayear,andaftervariousdelaysIcameEast,permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.The
praktische
practicalthingwastofindroomsinthecity,butitwasawarmseason,andIhadjustleftacountryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,sowhenayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwetakeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidea.Hefoundthehouse,aweather-beatencardboardbungalowateightyamonth,butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,andIwentouttothecountryalone.
Ihadadog—atleastIhadhimforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andanoldDodgeandaFinnishwoman,whomademybedandcookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnish
weisheit
wisdomtoherselfovertheelectricherd
stove.Itwaslonelyforadayorsountilonemorningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedthanI,stoppedmeontheroad.
“HowdoyougettoWestEggvillage?”
heaskedhelplessly.
Itoldhim.
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehad
beiläufig
casuallyconferredonmethefreedomofthenachbarschaft
neighbourhood.Andsowiththe
sonnenschein
sunshineandthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarüberzeugung
convictionthatlifewasbeginningoveragainwiththesummer.Therewassomuchtoread,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutoftheyoungbreath-givingair.
Iboughta
dutzend
dozenvolumesonbankingandcreditandinvestmentsecurities,andtheystoodonmyregal
shelfinredandgoldlikenewmoneyfromthemint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidasandMorganandMaecenasknew.AndIhadthehigh
absicht
intentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.Iwasrather
literarisch
literaryincollege—oneyearIwroteaseriesofverysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingtobringbackallsuchthingsintomylifeandbecomeagainthatmostlimitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeismuchmoresuccessfullylookedatfromasinglewindow,afterall.
ItwasamatterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedahouseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
ItwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhichextendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—andwherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,twounusualformationsofland.
Twentymilesfromthecityapairofenormouseggs,
identisch
identicalincontourandseparatedonlybyacourtesybay,jutoutintothemostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheWestlichen
Westernhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLongIslandSound.Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyareboth
zerquetscht
crushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysicalähnlichkeit
resemblancemustbeasourceofperpetualwondertothegullsthatflyoverhead.Tothewinglessamoreinteresting
phänomen
phenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticularexceptshapeandsize.IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,thelessfashionableofthetwo,thoughthisisamostsuperficialtagtoexpressthebizarreandnotalittlesinister
kontrast
contrastbetweenthem.Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,andsqueezedbetweentwohugeplacesthatrentedfortwelveorfifteenthousandaseason.
Theoneonmyrightwasacolossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactual
nachahmung
imitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,withatowerononeside,spankingnewunderathinbart
beardofrawivy,andamarmor
marbleswimmingpool,andmorethanfortyacresofrasen
lawnandgarden.ItwasGatsby’s
herrenhaus
mansion.Or,rather,asIdidn’tknowMr.Gatsby,itwasa
villa
mansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatname.Myownhousewasaneyesore,butitwasasmalleyesore,andithadbeen
übersehen
overlooked,soIhadaviewofthewater,apartialviewofmyneighbour’srasen
lawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.AcrossthecourtesybaythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEgg
glitzerten
glitteredalongthewater,andthehistoryofthesummerreallybeginsontheeveningIdroveovertheretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.Daisywasmysecondcousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.
AndjustafterthewarIspenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Herhusband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofthemostpowerfulendsthateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureinaway,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchanacute
begrenzte
limitedexcellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.Hisfamilywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomwithmoneywasamatterforreproach—butnowhe’dleftChicagoandcomeEastinafashionthatrathertookyourbreathaway:
for
beispiel
instance,he’dbroughtdownareihe
stringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.Itwashardtorealizethatamaninmyowngenerationwas
reich
wealthyenoughtodothat.WhytheycameEastIdon’tknow.
TheyhadspentayearinFrancefornoparticularreason,andthendriftedhereandthereunrestfullywhereverpeopleplayedpoloandwererichtogether.
Thiswasapermanentmove,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,butIdidn’tbelieveit—IhadnosightintoDaisy’sheart,butIfeltthatTomwould
treiben
driftonforeverseeking,alittlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulenz
turbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.AndsoithappenedthatonawarmwindyeveningIdroveovertoEastEggtoseetwooldfriendswhomIscarcelyknewatall.
TheirhousewasevenmoreelaboratethanIexpected,acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingthe
bucht
bay.Thelawnstartedatthebeachandrantowardsthefrontdoorforaquarterofamile,jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthehousedriftingupthesideinbrightvinesasthoughfromthe
schwung
momentumofitsrun.ThefrontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,glowingnowwithreflectedgoldandwideopentothewarmwindyafternoon,andTomBuchananinridingclotheswasstandingwithhislegsapartonthefront
veranda
porch.HehadchangedsincehisNewHavenyears.
Nowhewasasturdystraw-hairedmanofthirty,witharatherhardmouthandasupercilious
weise
manner.Twoshiningarroganteyeshadestablisheddominanceoverhisfaceandgavehimtheappearanceofalwaysleaningaggressivelyforward.
Noteventheeffeminateswankofhisridingclothescouldhidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthetoplacing,andyoucouldseeagreatpackofmuscleshiftingwhenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.
Itwasabodycapableofenormousleverage—acruelbody.
Hisspeakingvoice,agruffhuskytenor,addedtothe
eindruck
impressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.Therewasatouchofpaternal
verachtung
contemptinit,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwhohadhatedhisguts.“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtosay,“justbecauseI’mstrongerandmoreofamanthanyouare.”
Wewereinthesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewereneverintimateIalwayshadthe
eindruck
impressionthatheapprovedofmeandwantedmetolikehimwithsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhisown.Wetalkedforafewminutesonthe
sonnigen
sunnyporch.“I’vegotaniceplacehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hemovedabroadflathandalongthefront
aussicht
vista,includinginitssweepasunkenItaliangarden,ahalfacreofdeep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthetideoffshore.“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearoundagain,politelyandabruptly.
“We’llgoinside.”
Wewalkedthroughahigh
flur
hallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrassoutsidethatseemedtogrowalittlewayintothehouse.
A
brise
breezeblewthroughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneendandouttheotherlikepaleflags,verdrehte
twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeofthedecke
ceiling,andthenrippledoverthewine-colouredteppich
rug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthesea.Theonlycompletelystationaryobjectintheroomwasanenormous
couch
couchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponananchoredballon
balloon.Theywerebothinwhite,andtheirdresseswereripplingandflutteringasiftheyhadjustbeenblownbackinafterashortflightaroundthehouse.
Imusthavestoodforafewmomentslisteningtothewhipandsnapofthecurtainsandthe
stöhnen
groanofapictureonthewall.ThentherewasaboomasTomBuchananshuttherearwindowsandthecaughtwinddiedoutabouttheroom,andthecurtainsandtherugsandthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.
Theyoungerofthetwowasastrangertome.
Shewasextendedfull
länge
lengthatherendofthedivan,completelymotionless,andwithherkinn
chinraisedalittle,asifshewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelytofall.Ifshesawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshegaveno
hinweis
hintofit—indeed,Iwasalmostsurprisedintomurmuringanentschuldigung
apologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingin.Theothergirl,Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleaned
leicht
slightlyforwardwithaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurd,charminglittlelaugh,andIlaughedtooandcameforwardintotheroom.“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughedagain,asifshesaidsomethingverywitty,andheldmyhandforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promisingthattherewasnooneintheworldshesomuchwantedtosee.
Thatwasawayshehad.
Shehintedinamurmurthatthe
nachname
surnameofthebalancinggirlwasBaker.(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomakepeopleleantowardher;
anirrelevant
kritik
criticismthatmadeitnolesscharming.)Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatmealmostimperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedherheadbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadobviouslytotteredalittleandgivenhersomethingofafright.
Againasortof
entschuldigung
apologyarosetomylips.Almostany
ausstellung
exhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsastunnedtributefromme.Ilookedbackatmycousin,whobegantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrillingvoice.
Itwasthekindofvoicethattheearfollowsupanddown,asifeachspeechisan
anordnung
arrangementofnotesthatwillneverbeplayedagain.Herfacewassadandlovelywithbrightthingsinit,brighteyesandabrightpassionatemouth,buttherewasan
aufregung
excitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforherfounddifficulttoforget:asingingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”apromisethatshehaddonegay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceandthatthereweregay,excitingthingshoveringinthenexthour.
ItoldherhowIhadstoppedoffinChicagoforadayonmywayEast,andhowa
dutzend
dozenpeoplehadsenttheirlovethroughme.“Dotheymissme?”
shecriedecstatically.
“Thewholetownis
verwüstet
desolate.Allthecarshavetheleftrearwheelpaintedblackasamourningwreath,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,”heremarkeddecisively.
This
ärgerte
annoyedme.“Youwill,”Ianswered
kurz
shortly.“YouwillifyoustayintheEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayintheEast,don’tyouworry,”hesaid,glancingatDaisyandthenbackatme,asifhewere
aufmerksam
alertforsomethingmore.“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
AtthispointMissBakersaid:
“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthefirstwordshehadutteredsinceIcameintotheroom.
Offensichtlich
Evidentlyitsurprisedherasmuchasitdidme,forsheyawnedandwithaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstoodupintotheroom.“I’mstiff,”shecomplained,“I’vebeenlyingonthatsofaforaslongasIcanremember.”
“Don’tlookatme,”Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingtogetyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”
“No,thanks,”saidMissBakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthe
speisekammer
pantry.“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Herhostlookedatherincredulously.
“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwereadropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouevergetanythingdoneisbeyondme.”
IlookedatMissBaker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”
Ienjoyedlookingather.
Shewasaslender,small-breastedgirl,withanerect
kutsche
carriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikeayoungkadett
cadet.Hergreysun-strainedeyeslookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocal
neugier
curiosityoutofawan,charming,discontentedface.ItoccurredtomenowthatIhadseenher,orapictureofher,somewherebefore.
“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“Iknowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’tknowasingle—”.
“YoumustknowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demandedDaisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
BeforeIcould
antworten
replythathewasmynachbar
neighbourdinnerwasannounced;wedginghistensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweremovingacheckertoanothersquare.
Slenderly,languidly,theirhandsset
leicht
lightlyontheirhips,thetwoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoarosy-colouredveranda
porch,opentowardthesunset,wherefourcandlesflickeredonthetableinthediminishedwind.“Whycandles?”
objectedDaisy,frowning.
She
schnappte
snappedthemoutwithherfingers.“Intwoweeksit’llbethe
längste
longestdayintheyear.”Shelookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyoualwayswatchforthelongestdayoftheyearandthenmissit?
Ialwayswatchforthelongestdayintheyearandthenmissit.”
“Weoughttoplansomething,”yawnedMissBaker,sittingdownatthetableasifsheweregettingintobed.
“Allright,”saidDaisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdopeopleplan?”
BeforeIcouldanswerhereyesfastenedwithanawed
ausdruck
expressiononherlittlefinger.“Look!”
she
beschwerte sich
complained;“Ihurtit.”
Wealllooked—the
knöchel
knucklewasblackandblue.“Youdidit,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,butyoudiddoit.
That’swhatIgetformarryingabruteofaman,agreat,big,hulkingphysical
exemplar
specimenofa—”.“Ihatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”insistedDaisy.
SometimessheandMissBakertalkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandwithabanteringinconsequencethatwasneverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedressesandtheirimpersonaleyesinthe
abwesenheit
absenceofalldesire.Theywerehere,andtheyacceptedTomandme,makingonlyapolitepleasanteffortto
unterhalten
entertainortobeentertained.Theyknewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoverandalittlelatertheeveningtoowouldbeoverand
beiläufig
casuallyputaway.Itwas
scharf
sharplydifferentfromtheWest,whereaneveningwashurriedfromphasetophasetowardsitsclose,inaständig
continuallydisappointedanticipationorelseinsheernervousangst
dreadofthemomentitself.“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”I
gestand
confessedonmysecondglassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.“Can’tyoutalkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularbythis
bemerkung
remark,butitwastakenupinanunerwartete
unexpectedway.“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTomviolently.
“I’vegottentobeaterriblepessimistaboutthings.
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbythismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”Ianswered,rathersurprisedbyhistone.
“Well,it’safinebook,andeverybodyoughttoreadit.
Theideaisifwedon’tlookoutthewhiteracewillbe—willbe
völlig
utterlysubmerged.It’sallscientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”