I
InmyyoungerandmorevulnerableyearsmyfathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeversince.
“Wheneveryoufeellike
criticar
criticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justrememberthatallthepeopleinthisworldhaven’thadtheadvantagesthatyou’vehad.”Hedidn’tsayanymore,butwe’vealwaysbeen
invulgarmente
unusuallycommunicativeinareservedway,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealmorethanthat.Inconsequence,I’minclinedto
reservar
reservealljudgements,ahabitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestomeandalsomademethevictimofnotafewveteranbores.The
anormal
abnormalmindisquicktodetectar
detectandattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsinanormalperson,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustlyacusado
accusedofbeingapolitician,becauseIwasprivytothesecretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeignedsleep,preoccupation,ora
hostil
hostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesignthatanintimaterevelação
revelationwasquiveringonthehorizonte
horizon;fortheintimaterevelationsofyoungmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,areusuallyplagiaristicandmarredbyobvioussuppressions.
Reservar
Reservingjudgementsisamatterofinfinitehope.IamstillalittleafraidofmissingsomethingifIforgetthat,asmyfathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,asenseofthe
fundamental
fundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.And,after
gabar
boastingthiswayofmytolerância
tolerance,Icometotheadmissão
admissionthatithasalimite
limit.Conductmaybefoundedonthehardrockorthewetmarshes,butafteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedon.
WhenIcamebackfromtheEastlast
outono
autumnIfeltthatIwantedtheworldtobeinuniformandatasortofmoral
moralattentionforever;Iwantednomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesintothehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,themanwhogiveshisnametothisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,who
representava
representedeverythingforwhichIhaveanunaffecteddesprezo
scorn.Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewassomethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightened
sensibilidade
sensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthatregisterearthquakestenthousandmilesaway.Thisresponsivenesshadnothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignifiedunderthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftforhope,aromanticreadinesssuchasIhaveneverfoundinanyotherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverfindagain.
No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,what
suja
fouldustfloatedinthewakeofhisdreamsthattemporariamente
temporarilyclosedoutmyinterestintheabortivesorrowsandshort-windedelationsofmen.Myfamilyhavebeen
proeminente
prominent,well-to-dopeopleinthisMiddleOeste
Westerncityforthreegenerations.TheCarrawaysaresomethingofa
clã
clan,andwehaveatradição
traditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,buttheverdadeiro
actualfounderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sbrother,whocamehereinfifty-one,sentasubstituto
substitutetotheCivilWar,andstartedtheatacado
wholesalehardwarebusinessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.Ineversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtolooklikehim—withspecial
referência
referencetotheratherhard-boiledpaintingthathangsinfather’soffice.I
formei
graduatedfromNewHavenin1915,justaquarterofacenturyaftermyfather,andalittlelaterIparticipei
participatedinthatdelayedTeutonicmigração
migrationknownastheGreatWar.Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughlythatIcameback
inquieto
restless.Insteadofbeingthewarm
centro
centreoftheworld,theMiddleWestnowseemedliketheraggededgeoftheuniverse—soIdecidedtogoEastandlearnthebondbusiness.EverybodyIknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposeditcouldsupportonemoresingleman.
Allmyauntsandunclestalkeditoverasiftheywerechoosingaprepschoolforme,andfinallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withverygrave,hesitantfaces.
Fatheragreedto
financiar
financemeforayear,andaftervários
variousdelaysIcameEast,permanentemente
permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.Thepracticalthingwastofindroomsinthecity,butitwasawarmseason,andIhadjustleftacountryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,sowhenayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwetakeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidea.
Hefoundthehouse,aweather-beaten
papelão
cardboardbungalowateightyamonth,butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,andIwentouttothecountryalone.Ihadadog—atleastIhadhimforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andanold
Dodge
DodgeandaFinnishwoman,whomademybedandcookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnishsabedoria
wisdomtoherselfovertheelétrico
electricstove.Itwaslonelyforadayorsountilonemorningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedthanI,stoppedmeontheroad.
“HowdoyougettoWestEggvillage?”
heaskedhelplessly.
Itoldhim.
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehad
casualmente
casuallyconferredonmethefreedomofthebairro
neighbourhood.Andsowiththe
sol
sunshineandthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarconvicção
convictionthatlifewasbeginningoveragainwiththesummer.Therewassomuchtoread,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutoftheyoungbreath-givingair.
Iboughta
dúzia
dozenvolumesonbankingandcreditandinvestimento
investmentsecurities,andtheystoodonmyprateleira
shelfinredandgoldlikenewmoneyfromthemint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidasandMorganandMaecenasknew.AndIhadthehigh
intenção
intentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.Iwasrather
literário
literaryincollege—oneyearIwroteaseriesofverysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingtobringbackallsuchthingsintomylifeandbecomeagainthatmostlimitado
limitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeismuchmore
bem-sucedida
successfullylookedatfromasinglewindow,afterall.ItwasamatterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedahouseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
Itwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhich
estende
extendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—andwherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,twounusualformationsofland.Twentymilesfromthecityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontourandseparatedonlybya
cortesia
courtesybay,jutoutintothemostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheOcidental
Westernhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLongIslandSound.Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyarebothcrushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysical
semelhança
resemblancemustbeasourceofperpetualwondertothegullsthatflyoverhead.Tothewinglessamoreinteresting
fenômeno
phenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticularexceptshapeandsize.IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,theless
elegante
fashionableofthetwo,thoughthisisamostsuperficial
superficialtagtoexpressthebizarro
bizarreandnotalittlesinistro
sinistercontrastbetweenthem.Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,and
apertado
squeezedbetweentwohugeplacesthatrentedfortwelveorfifteenthousandaseason.Theoneonmyrightwasa
colossal
colossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactualimitação
imitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,withatowerononeside,spankingnewunderathinbarba
beardofrawivy,andamármore
marbleswimmingpool,andmorethanfortyacresofgramado
lawnandgarden.ItwasGatsby’s
mansão
mansion.Or,rather,asIdidn’tknowMr.Gatsby,itwasa
mansão
mansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatname.Myownhousewasaneyesore,butitwasasmalleyesore,andithadbeenoverlooked,soIhadaviewofthewater,a
parcial
partialviewofmyneighbour’sgramado
lawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.Acrossthe
cortesia
courtesybaythewhitepalacesofelegante
fashionableEastEggglitteredalongthewater,andthehistoryofthesummerreallybeginsontheeveningIdroveovertheretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.Daisy
Daisywasmysecondcousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.AndjustafterthewarIspenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Herhusband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofthemostpowerfulendsthateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureinaway,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchan
aguda
acutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.Hisfamilywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomwithmoneywasamatterforreproach—butnowhe’dleftChicagoandcomeEastinafashionthatrathertookyourbreathaway:
for
exemplo
instance,he’dbroughtdownastringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.Itwashardtorealizethatamaninmyowngenerationwas
rico
wealthyenoughtodothat.WhytheycameEastIdon’tknow.
TheyhadspentayearinFrancefornoparticularreason,andthendriftedhereandthereunrestfullywhereverpeopleplayedpoloandwererichtogether.
Thiswasa
permanente
permanentmove,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,butIdidn’tbelieveit—IhadnosightintoDaisy’sheart,butIfeltthatTomwoulddriftonforeverseeking,alittlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulência
turbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.AndsoithappenedthatonawarmwindyeveningIdroveovertoEastEggtoseetwooldfriendswhomI
mal
scarcelyknewatall.TheirhousewasevenmoreelaboratethanIexpected,a
alegre
cheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingthebaía
bay.Thelawnstartedatthebeachandrantowardsthefrontdoorforaquarterofamile,jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthehousedriftingupthesideinbrightvinesasthoughfromthe
ímpeto
momentumofitsrun.ThefrontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,
brilhando
glowingnowwithreflectedgoldandwideopentothewarmwindyafternoon,andTomBuchananinridingclotheswasstandingwithhislegsapartonthefrontvaranda
porch.HehadchangedsincehisNewHavenyears.
Nowhewasa
robusto
sturdystraw-hairedmanofthirty,witharatherhardmouthandasuperciliousmaneira
manner.Twoshiningarroganteyeshad
estabelecido
establisheddominanceoverhisfaceandgavehimtheaparência
appearanceofalwaysleaningaggressivelyforward.Noteventheeffeminateswankofhisridingclothescouldhidethe
enorme
enormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthetoplacing,andyoucouldseeagreatpackofmuscleshiftingwhenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.Itwasabodycapableof
enorme
enormousleverage—acruelbody.Hisspeakingvoice,agruffhuskytenor,addedtothe
impressão
impressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.Therewasatouchofpaternal
desprezo
contemptinit,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwhohadhatedhisguts.“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtosay,“justbecauseI’mstrongerandmoreofamanthanyouare.”
Wewereinthesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewereneverintimateIalwayshadthe
impressão
impressionthatheapprovedofmeandwantedmetolikehimwithsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhisown.Wetalkedforafewminutesonthesunny
varanda
porch.“I’vegotaniceplacehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hemovedabroadflathandalongthefrontvista,includinginits
varredura
sweepasunkenItaliangarden,ahalfacre
acreofdeep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthemaré
tideoffshore.“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearoundagain,
educadamente
politelyandabruptly.“We’llgoinside.”
Wewalkedthroughahigh
corredor
hallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrassoutsidethatseemedtogrowalittlewayintothehouse.
A
brisa
breezeblewthroughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneendandouttheotherlikepaleflags,torcendo
twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheteto
ceiling,andthenrippledoverthewine-colouredtapete
rug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthesea.Theonlycompletelystationaryobjectintheroomwasan
enorme
enormouscouchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponanancorado
anchoredballoon.Theywerebothinwhite,andtheirdresseswereripplingandflutteringasiftheyhadjustbeenblownbackinafterashortflightaroundthehouse.
Imusthavestoodforafewmomentslisteningtothe
chicote
whipandsnapofthecurtainsandthegemido
groanofapictureonthewall.ThentherewasaboomasTomBuchananshuttherearwindowsandthecaughtwinddiedoutabouttheroom,andthecurtainsandtherugsandthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.
Theyoungerofthetwowasastrangertome.
Shewasextendedfull
comprimento
lengthatherendofthedivan,completelymotionless,andwithherqueixo
chinraisedalittle,asifshewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelytofall.Ifshesawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshegavenohintofit—indeed,Iwasalmostsurprisedintomurmuringan
desculpas
apologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingin.Theothergirl,
Daisy
Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleanedligeiramente
slightlyforwardwithaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurdo
absurd,charminglittlelaugh,andIlaughedtooandcameforwardintotheroom.“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughedagain,asifshesaidsomethingverywitty,andheldmyhandforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promisingthattherewasnooneintheworldshesomuchwantedtosee.
Thatwasawayshehad.
Shehintedinamurmurthatthe
sobrenome
surnameofthebalancinggirlwasBaker
Baker.(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomakepeopleleantowardher;
an
irrelevante
irrelevantcriticismthatmadeitnolesscharming.)Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatmealmostimperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedherheadbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadobviouslytotteredalittleandgivenhersomethingofa
susto
fright.Againasortof
desculpas
apologyarosetomylips.Almostany
exibição
exhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsaatordoado
stunnedtributefromme.Ilookedbackatmycousin,whobegantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrillingvoice.
Itwasthekindofvoicethattheearfollowsupanddown,asifeachspeechisan
arranjo
arrangementofnotesthatwillneverbeplayedagain.Herfacewassadandlovelywithbrightthingsinit,brighteyesandabrightpassionatemouth,buttherewasan
excitação
excitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforherfounddifficulttoforget:asingingcompulsion,a
sussurro
whispered“Listen,”apromisethatshehaddonegay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceandthatthereweregay,excitingthingshoveringinthenexthour.ItoldherhowIhadstoppedoffinChicagoforadayonmywayEast,andhowa
dúzia
dozenpeoplehadsenttheirlovethroughme.“Dotheymissme?”
shecriedecstatically.
“Thewholetownisdesolate.
Allthecarshavetheleft
traseira
rearwheelpaintedblackasaluto
mourningwreath,andthere’sapersistente
persistentwailallnightalongthenorthshore.”“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
irritou
annoyedme.“Youwill,”Iansweredshortly.
“YouwillifyoustayintheEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayintheEast,don’tyouworry,”hesaid,glancingat
Daisy
Daisyandthenbackatme,asifhewerealerta
alertforsomethingmore.“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
AtthispointMiss
Baker
Bakersaid:“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthefirstwordshehadutteredsinceIcameintotheroom.
Evidentemente
Evidentlyitsurprisedherasmuchasitdidme,forsheyawnedandwithaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstoodupintotheroom.“I’mstiff,”she
queixou
complained,“I’vebeenlyingonthatsofá
sofaforaslongasIcanremember.”“Don’tlookatme,”
Daisy
Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingtogetyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”“No,thanks,”saidMiss
Baker
Bakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthedespensa
pantry.“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Her
anfitrião
hostlookedatherincredulously.“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwereadropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouevergetanythingdoneisbeyondme.”
IlookedatMiss
Baker
Baker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”Ienjoyedlookingather.
Shewasa
esbelta
slender,small-breastedgirl,withanereta
erectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikeayoungcadete
cadet.Hergreysun-strainedeyeslookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocal
curiosidade
curiosityoutofawan,charming,discontentedface.ItoccurredtomenowthatIhadseenher,orapictureofher,somewherebefore.
“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“Iknowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’tknowasingle—”.
“YoumustknowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
exigiu
demandedDaisy.“WhatGatsby?”
BeforeIcould
responder
replythathewasmyvizinho
neighbourdinnerwasannounced;wedginghis
tenso
tensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweremovingacheckertoanothersquare.Slenderly,languidly,theirhandsset
levemente
lightlyontheirhips,thetwoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoarosy-colouredvaranda
porch,opentowardthesunset,wherefourcandlesflickeredonthetableinthediminishedwind.“Whycandles?”
objected
Daisy
Daisy,frowning.Shesnappedthemoutwithherfingers.
“Intwoweeksit’llbethe
longo
longestdayintheyear.”Shelookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyoualwayswatchforthe
longo
longestdayoftheyearandthenmissit?Ialwayswatchforthe
longo
longestdayintheyearandthenmissit.”“Weoughttoplansomething,”yawnedMiss
Baker
Baker,sittingdownatthetableasifsheweregettingintobed.“Allright,”said
Daisy
Daisy.“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdopeopleplan?”
BeforeIcouldanswerhereyesfastenedwithanawed
expressão
expressiononherlittlefinger.“Look!”
she
queixou
complained;“Ihurtit.”
Wealllooked—theknucklewasblackandblue.
“Youdidit,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,butyoudiddoit.
That’swhatIgetformarryinga
bruto
bruteofaman,agreat,big,hulkingphysicalespécime
specimenofa—”.“Ihatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”
insistiu
insistedDaisy.SometimessheandMiss
Baker
Bakertalkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandwithabanteringinconsequencethatwasneverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedressesandtheirimpersonaleyesintheausência
absenceofalldesire.Theywerehere,andtheyacceptedTomandme,makingonlya
educado
politepleasantefforttoentertainortobeentreter
entertained.Theyknewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoverandalittlelatertheeveningtoowouldbeoverand
casualmente
casuallyputaway.ItwassharplydifferentfromtheWest,whereaneveningwashurriedfrom
fase
phasetophasetowardsitsclose,inacontinuallydisappointedantecipação
anticipationorelseinsheernervousmedo
dreadofthemomentitself.“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”I
confessei
confessedonmysecondglassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.“Can’tyoutalkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularbythis
observação
remark,butitwastakenupinanunexpectedway.“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTom
violentamente
violently.“I’vegottentobeaterriblepessimistaboutthings.
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbythismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”Ianswered,rathersurprisedbyhistone.
“Well,it’safinebook,andeverybodyoughttoreadit.
Theideaisifwedon’tlookoutthewhiteracewillbe—willbe
completamente
utterlysubmerged.It’sallscientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”