I
Inmyyoungerandmore
wrażliwych
vulnerableyearsmyfathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeversince.“Wheneveryoufeellikecriticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justrememberthatallthepeopleinthisworldhaven’thadtheadvantagesthatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’tsayanymore,butwe’vealwaysbeen
niezwykle
unusuallycommunicativeinareservedway,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealmorethanthat.In
konsekwencji
consequence,I’minclinedtoreservealljudgements,anawyk
habitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestomeandalsomademethevictimofnotafewveteranbores.Theabnormalmindisquicktodetectandattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsinanormalperson,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustlyaccusedofbeingapolitician,becauseIwasprivytothesecretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.
Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeignedsleep,preoccupation,orahostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesignthatan
intymne
intimaterevelationwasquiveringonthehorizon;forthe
intymne
intimaterevelationsofyoungmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,areusuallyplagiaristicandmarredbyobvioussuppressions.Reservingjudgementsisamatterofinfinitehope.
IamstillalittleafraidofmissingsomethingifIforgetthat,asmyfathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,asenseofthe
podstawowych
fundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.And,afterboastingthiswayofmytolerance,Icometotheadmissionthatithasalimit.
Zachowanie
Conductmaybefoundedonthehardrockorthewetmarshes,butafteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedon.WhenIcamebackfromtheEastlastautumnIfeltthatIwantedtheworldtobeinuniformandatasortofmoralattentionforever;
Iwantednomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesintothehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,themanwhogiveshisnametothisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,whorepresentedeverythingforwhichIhaveanunaffectedscorn.
Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewassomethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightened
wrażliwość
sensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseskomplikowanych
intricatemachinesthatregisterearthquakestenthousandmilesaway.Thisresponsivenesshadnothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignifiedunderthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftforhope,aromantic
gotowość
readinesssuchasIhaveneverfoundinanyotherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverfindagain.No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldustfloatedinthewakeofhisdreamsthat
tymczasowo
temporarilyclosedoutmyinterestintheabortivesorrowsandshort-windedelationsofmen.Myfamilyhavebeenprominent,well-to-dopeopleinthisMiddleWesterncityforthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysaresomethingofa
klanu
clan,andwehaveatraditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,buttheactualfounderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sbrother,whocamehereinfifty-one,sentasubstitutetotheCivilWar,andstartedthewholesalesprzętu
hardwarebusinessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.Ineversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtolooklikehim—withspecialreferencetotheratherhard-boiledpaintingthathangsinfather’soffice.
IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,justaquarterofacenturyaftermyfather,andalittlelaterIparticipatedinthatdelayedTeutonic
migracji
migrationknownastheGreatWar.Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughlythatIcameback
niespokojny
restless.Insteadofbeingthewarmcentreoftheworld,theMiddleWestnowseemedliketheraggededgeoftheuniverse—soIdecidedtogoEastandlearnthebondbusiness.
EverybodyIknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposeditcouldsupportonemoresingleman.
Allmyauntsandunclestalkeditoverasiftheywerechoosingaprepschoolforme,andfinallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withverygrave,hesitantfaces.
Fatheragreedto
finansować
financemeforayear,andafterróżnych
variousdelaysIcameEast,stałe
permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.The
praktyczne
practicalthingwastofindroomsinthecity,butitwasawarmseason,andIhadjustleftacountryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,sowhenayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwetakeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidea.Hefoundthehouse,aweather-beatencardboardbungalowateightyamonth,butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,andIwentouttothecountryalone.
Ihadadog—atleastIhadhimforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andanold
Dodge
DodgeandaFinnishwoman,whomademybedandcookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnishwisdomtoherselfovertheelectricstove.Itwaslonelyforadayorsountilonemorningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedthanI,stoppedmeontheroad.
“HowdoyougettoWestEggvillage?”
heaskedhelplessly.
Itoldhim.
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehad
przypadkowo
casuallyconferredonmethefreedomofthesąsiedztwa
neighbourhood.Andsowiththe
słońca
sunshineandthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarprzekonanie
convictionthatlifewasbeginningoveragainwiththesummer.Therewassomuchtoread,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutoftheyoungbreath-givingair.
Iboughtadozenvolumeson
bankowości
bankingandcreditandinvestmentsecurities,andtheystoodonmypółce
shelfinredandgoldlikenewmoneyfromthemennicy
mint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidasandMorganandMaecenasknew.AndIhadthehigh
zamiar
intentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.Iwasratherliteraryincollege—oneyearIwroteaseriesofverysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingtobringbackallsuchthingsintomylifeandbecomeagainthatmostlimitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”
Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeismuchmoresuccessfullylookedatfromasinglewindow,afterall.
ItwasamatterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedahouseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
ItwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhichextendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—andwherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,twounusualformationsofland.
Twentymilesfromthecityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontourandseparatedonlybya
uprzejmości
courtesybay,jutoutintothemostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheZachodniej
Westernhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLongIslandSound.Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyarebothcrushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysical
podobieństwo
resemblancemustbeasourceofperpetualwondertothegullsthatflynad głową
overhead.Tothewinglessamoreinterestingphenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticularexceptshapeandsize.
IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,thelessfashionableofthetwo,thoughthisisamost
powierzchowne
superficialtagtoexpressthebizarreandnotalittlesinisterkontrast
contrastbetweenthem.Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,andsqueezedbetweentwohugeplacesthatrentedfortwelveorfifteenthousandaseason.
Theoneonmyrightwasacolossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactual
imitacja
imitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,withatowerononeside,spankingnewunderathinbeardofsurowego
rawivy,andamarbleswimmingpool,andmorethanfortyacresoflawnandgarden.ItwasGatsby’smansion.
Or,rather,asIdidn’tknowMr.Gatsby,itwasamansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatname.
Myownhousewasaneyesore,butitwasasmalleyesore,andithadbeenoverlooked,soIhadaviewofthewater,apartialviewofmyneighbour’s
trawnik
lawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.Acrossthecourtesy
zatoki
baythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEggglitteredalongthewater,andthehistoryofthesummerreallybeginsontheeveningIdroveovertheretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.Daisy
Daisywasmysecondcousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.AndjustafterthewarIspenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Herhusband,among
różnych
variousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofthemostpowerfulendsthateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureinaway,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchanostre
acutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.Hisfamilywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomwithmoneywasamatterforreproach—butnowhe’dleftChicagoandcomeEastinafashionthatrathertookyourbreathaway:
for
przykład
instance,he’dbroughtdownastringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.Itwashardtorealizethatamaninmyowngenerationwaswealthyenoughtodothat.
WhytheycameEastIdon’tknow.
TheyhadspentayearinFrancefornoparticularreason,andthen
dryfował
driftedhereandthereunrestfullywhereverpeopleplayedpoloandwererichtogether.Thiswasapermanentmove,said
Daisy
Daisyoverthetelephone,butIdidn’tbelieveit—IhadnosightintoDaisy’sheart,butIfeltthatTomwoulddriftonforeverseeking,alittlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.AndsoithappenedthatonawarmwindyeveningIdroveovertoEastEggtoseetwooldfriendswhomIscarcelyknewatall.
TheirhousewasevenmoreelaboratethanIexpected,acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingthebay.
The
trawnik
lawnstartedatthebeachandrantowardsthefrontdoorforaquarterofamile,jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthehousedriftingupthesideinbrightvinesasthoughfromthemomentumofitsrun.ThefrontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,glowingnowwithreflectedgoldandwideopentothewarmwindyafternoon,andTomBuchananinridingclotheswasstandingwithhislegsapartonthefront
ganku
porch.HehadchangedsincehisNewHavenyears.
Nowhewasa
wytrzymały
sturdystraw-hairedmanofthirty,witharatherhardmouthandasupercilioussposób
manner.Twoshiningarroganteyeshad
ustanowiły
establisheddominanceoverhisfaceandgavehimthewygląd
appearanceofalwaysleaningaggressivelyforward.Noteventheeffeminateswankofhisridingclothescouldhidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthetoplacing,andyoucouldseeagreatpackof
mięśni
muscleshiftingwhenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.Itwasabodycapableofenormousleverage—acruelbody.
Hisspeakingvoice,agruffhusky
tenor
tenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.Therewasatouchofpaternalcontemptinit,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwhohadhatedhisguts.
“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtosay,“justbecauseI’mstrongerandmoreofamanthanyouare.”
Wewereinthesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewereneverintimateIalwayshadthe
wrażenie
impressionthatheapprovedofmeandwantedmetolikehimwithsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhisown.Wetalkedforafewminutesonthesunny
ganku
porch.“I’vegotaniceplacehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hemovedabroadflathandalongthefrontvista,includinginitssweepa
zatopiony
sunkenItaliangarden,ahalfakra
acreofdeep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedtheprzypływ
tideoffshore.“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearoundagain,
grzecznie
politelyandabruptly.“We’llgoinside.”
Wewalkedthroughahighhallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.
Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrassoutsidethatseemedtogrowalittlewayintothehouse.
Abreezeblewthroughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneendandouttheotherlikepaleflags,twistingthemup
kierunku
towardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheceiling,andthenrippledoverthewine-colouredrug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthesea.Theonlycompletelystationaryobjectintheroomwasanenormouscouchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponananchored
balon
balloon.Theywerebothinwhite,andtheirdresseswereripplingandflutteringasiftheyhadjustbeenblownbackinafterashortflightaroundthehouse.
Imusthavestoodforafewmomentslisteningtothewhipandsnapofthecurtainsandthegroanofapictureonthewall.
ThentherewasaboomasTomBuchananshutthe
tylne
rearwindowsandthecaughtwinddiedoutabouttheroom,andthecurtainsandtherugsandthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.Theyoungerofthetwowasastrangertome.
Shewasextendedfull
długość
lengthatherendofthedivan,completelymotionless,andwithherchinraisedalittle,asifshewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelytofall.Ifshesawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshegavenohintofit—indeed,Iwasalmostsurprisedintomurmuringan
przeprosiny
apologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingin.Theothergirl,
Daisy
Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleanedlekko
slightlyforwardwithaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurd,charminglittlelaugh,andIlaughedtooandcameforwardintotheroom.“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughedagain,asifshesaidsomethingverywitty,andheldmyhandforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promisingthattherewasnooneintheworldshesomuchwantedtosee.
Thatwasawayshehad.
Shehintedinamurmurthatthe
nazwisko
surnameofthebalancinggirlwasBaker
Baker.(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomakepeopleleantowardher;
anirrelevantcriticismthatmadeitnolesscharming.)
Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatmealmostimperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedherheadbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadobviouslytotteredalittleandgivenhersomethingofafright.
Againasortof
przeprosiny
apologyarosetomylips.Almostany
ekspozycja
exhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsastunnedhołd
tributefromme.Ilookedbackatmycousin,whobegantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrillingvoice.
Itwasthekindofvoicethattheearfollowsupanddown,asifeachspeechisanarrangementofnotesthatwillneverbeplayedagain.
Herfacewassadandlovelywithbrightthingsinit,brighteyesandabrightpassionatemouth,buttherewasanexcitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforherfounddifficulttoforget:
asingingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”apromisethatshehaddonegay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceandthatthereweregay,excitingthingshoveringinthenexthour.
ItoldherhowIhadstoppedoffinChicagoforadayonmywayEast,andhowadozenpeoplehadsenttheirlovethroughme.
“Dotheymissme?”
shecriedecstatically.
“Thewholetownisdesolate.
Allthecarshavetheleft
tylne
rearwheelpaintedblackasamourningwieniec
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,”heremarkeddecisively.
Thisannoyedme.
“Youwill,”Ianswered
wkrótce
shortly.“YouwillifyoustayintheEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayintheEast,don’tyouworry,”hesaid,glancingat
Daisy
Daisyandthenbackatme,asifhewerealertforsomethingmore.“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
AtthispointMiss
Baker
Bakersaid:“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthefirstwordshehadutteredsinceIcameintotheroom.
Najwyraźniej
Evidentlyitsurprisedherasmuchasitdidme,forsheyawnedandwithaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstoodupintotheroom.“I’mstiff,”shecomplained,“I’vebeenlyingonthat
kanapie
sofaforaslongasIcanremember.”“Don’tlookatme,”
Daisy
Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingtogetyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”“No,thanks,”saidMiss
Baker
Bakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthepantry.“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Herhostlookedatherincredulously.
“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwereadropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouevergetanythingdoneisbeyondme.”
IlookedatMiss
Baker
Baker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”Ienjoyedlookingather.
Shewasaslender,small-breastedgirl,withanerectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikeayoung
kadet
cadet.Hergreysun-strainedeyeslookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocalcuriosityoutofawan,charming,discontentedface.
ItoccurredtomenowthatIhadseenher,orapictureofher,somewherebefore.
“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“Iknowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’tknowasingle—”.
“YoumustknowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demanded
Daisy
Daisy.“WhatGatsby?”
BeforeIcouldreplythathewasmyneighbourdinnerwasannounced;
wedginghistensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanan
zmusił
compelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweremovingacheckertoanothersquare.Slenderly,languidly,theirhandsset
lekko
lightlyontheirhips,thetwoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoarosy-colouredganek
porch,opentowardthesunset,wherefourcandlesmigotały
flickeredonthetableinthediminishedwind.“Whycandles?”
objected
Daisy
Daisy,frowning.Shesnappedthemoutwithherfingers.
“Intwoweeksit’llbethe
najdłuższy
longestdayintheyear.”Shelookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyoualwayswatchforthe
najdłuższy
longestdayoftheyearandthenmissit?Ialwayswatchforthe
najdłuższy
longestdayintheyearandthenmissit.”“Weoughttoplansomething,”yawnedMiss
Baker
Baker,sittingdownatthetableasifsheweregettingintobed.“Allright,”said
Daisy
Daisy.“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdopeopleplan?”
BeforeIcouldanswerhereyesfastenedwithanawedexpressiononherlittlefinger.
“Look!”
shecomplained;
“Ihurtit.”
Wealllooked—theknucklewasblackandblue.
“Youdidit,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,butyoudiddoit.
That’swhatIgetformarryingabruteofaman,agreat,big,hulkingphysical
okaz
specimenofa—”.“Ihatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”
nalegała
insistedDaisy.SometimessheandMiss
Baker
Bakertalkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandwithabanteringinconsequencethatwasneverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedressesandtheirimpersonaleyesinthebraku
absenceofalldesire.Theywerehere,andtheyacceptedTomandme,makingonlya
uprzejmy
politepleasantefforttoentertainortobeentertained.Theyknewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoverandalittlelatertheeveningtoowouldbeoverand
przypadkowo
casuallyputaway.ItwassharplydifferentfromtheWest,whereaneveningwashurriedfrom
fazy
phasetophasetowardsitsclose,inacontinuallydisappointedoczekiwaniu
anticipationorelseinsheernervousdreadofthemomentitself.“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”I
przyznałem
confessedonmysecondglassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.“Can’tyoutalkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularbythis
uwaga
remark,butitwastakenupinanunexpectedway.“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTom
gwałtownie
violently.“I’vegottentobeaterriblepessimistaboutthings.
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbythismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”Ianswered,rathersurprisedbyhistone.
“Well,it’safinebook,andeverybodyoughttoreadit.
Theideaisifwedon’tlookoutthewhiteracewillbe—willbe
całkowicie
utterlysubmerged.It’sallscientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”