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The Great Gatsby | Progressive Turkish A2 Translation Books

The Great Gatsby | Progressive Turkish A2 Translation Books

Embrace the benefits of this cutting-edge translation method, offering a tailored learning experience by letting you select the difficulty level that fits you best. It improves your comprehension by urging you to deduce meanings from context, reducing the need for constant translation. While some translations are intentionally masked to encourage guessing, it's always acceptable to check unfamiliar words. This method strikes the perfect balance between challenge and accessibility, making language learning both effective and enjoyable. Immerse yourself in these translated classics and uncover the pleasure of learning through literary exploration.

I
InmyyoungerandmorevulnerableyearsmyfathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeversince.
“Wheneveryoufeellikecriticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justrememberthatallthepeopleinthisworldhaven’thadtheadvantagesthatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’tsayanymore,butwe’vealwaysbeenunusuallycommunicativeinareservedway,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealmorethanthat.
Inconsequence,I’minclinedtoreservealljudgements,ahabitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestomeandalsomademethevictimofnotafewveteranbores.
Theabnormalmindisquicktodetectandattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsina
normal
normalperson,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustlyaccusedofbeingapolitician,becauseIwasprivytothe
gizli
secretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.
Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeignedsleep,preoccupation,orahostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesignthatanintimaterevelationwasquiveringonthehorizon;
fortheintimaterevelationsofyoungmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,are
genellikle
usuallyplagiaristicandmarredbyobvioussuppressions.
Reservingjudgementsisamatterofinfinitehope.
IamstillalittleafraidofmissingsomethingifIforgetthat,asmyfathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,asenseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.
And,afterboastingthiswayofmytolerance,Icometotheadmissionthatithasalimit.
Conductmaybefoundedonthehard
kayaya
rockorthewetmarshes,butaftera
belirli
certainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedon.
WhenIcamebackfromthe
Doğu
EastlastautumnIfeltthatIwantedtheworldtobeinuniformandatasortofmoral
dikkat
attentionforever;
Iwantednomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesintothehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,themanwhogiveshisnametothisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,whorepresentedeverythingforwhichIhaveanunaffectedscorn.
Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewassomethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightenedsensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthatregisterearthquakesten
bin
thousandmilesaway.
Thisresponsivenesshadnothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignifiedunderthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftforhope,aromanticreadinesssuchasIhaveneverfoundinanyotherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverfindagain.
No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldustfloatedinthewakeofhisdreamsthattemporarilyclosedoutmyinterestintheabortivesorrowsandshort-windedelationsofmen.
Myfamilyhavebeenprominent,well-to-dopeopleinthis
Orta
MiddleWesterncityforthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysaresomethingofaclan,andwehaveatraditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,buttheactualfounderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sbrother,whocamehereinfifty-one,sentasubstitutetotheCivilWar,andstartedthewholesalehardwarebusinessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.
Ineversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtolooklikehim—withspecialreferencetothe
oldukça
ratherhard-boiledpaintingthathangsinfather’soffice.
IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,justaquarterofacenturyaftermyfather,andalittlelaterIparticipatedinthatdelayedTeutonicmigrationknownastheGreatWar.
Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughlythatIcamebackrestless.
Yerine
Insteadofbeingthewarmcentreoftheworld,the
Orta
MiddleWestnowseemedliketheraggededgeoftheuniverse—soI
karar
decidedtogoEastand
öğrenmeye
learnthebondbusiness.
EverybodyIknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposeditcouldsupportonemore
bekar
singleman.
Allmyauntsandunclestalkeditoverasiftheywere
seçiyormuş
choosingaprepschoolforme,and
sonunda
finallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withverygrave,hesitantfaces.
Fatheragreedtofinancemeforayear,andaftervariousdelaysIcame
Doğu
East,permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.
Thepracticalthingwastofindroomsinthecity,butitwasa
sıcak
warmseason,andIhadjustleftacountryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,sowhenayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwetakeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidea.
Hefoundthehouse,aweather-beatencardboardbungalowateightya
ayda
month,butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,andIwentouttothecountryalone.
Ihadadog—atleastIhadhimforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andanoldDodgeandaFinnishwoman,whomademybedandcooked
kahvaltı
breakfastandmutteredFinnishwisdomtoherselfovertheelectricstove.
Itwaslonelyforadayorsountilonemorningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedthanI,stoppedmeonthe
yolda
road.
“Howdoyougetto
Batı
WestEggvillage?”
heaskedhelplessly.
Itoldhim.
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehadcasuallyconferredonmethefreedomoftheneighbourhood.
Andsowiththesunshineandthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarconvictionthatlifewasbeginningoveragainwiththesummer.
Therewassomuchtoread,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutoftheyoungbreath-givingair.
Iboughtadozenvolumesonbankingandcreditandinvestmentsecurities,andtheystoodonmyshelfinredand
altın
goldlikenewmoneyfromthemint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidasandMorganandMaecenasknew.
AndIhadthehighintentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.
Iwasratherliteraryincollege—oneyearIwroteaseriesofverysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingtobringbackallsuchthingsintomylifeandbecomeagainthatmostlimitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”
Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeismuchmoresuccessfullylookedatfroma
tek
singlewindow,afterall.
ItwasamatterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedahouseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesin
Kuzey
NorthAmerica.
ItwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhichextendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—andwherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,twounusualformationsof
kara
land.
Twentymilesfromthecityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontourandseparatedonlybyacourtesybay,jutoutintothemostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheWesternhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLong
Island
IslandSound.
Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyarebothcrushedflatatthe
temas
contactend—buttheirphysicalresemblancemustbeasourceofperpetualwondertothegullsthatflyoverhead.
Tothewinglessamore
ilginç
interestingphenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticular
hariç
exceptshapeandsize.
IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,thelessfashionableofthetwo,thoughthisisamostsuperficialtagtoexpressthebizarreandnotalittlesinistercontrastbetweenthem.
Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,andsqueezedbetweentwo
büyük
hugeplacesthatrentedfortwelveorfifteen
bin
thousandaseason.
Theoneonmyrightwasacolossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactualimitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,withatowerononeside,spankingnewunderathinbeardofrawivy,andamarbleswimmingpool,andmorethanfortyacresoflawnandgarden.
ItwasGatsby’smansion.
Or,
daha doğrusu
rather,asIdidn’tknowMr.Gatsby,itwasamansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatname.
Myownhousewasaneyesore,butitwasasmalleyesore,andithadbeenoverlooked,soIhadaviewofthewater,apartialviewofmyneighbour’slawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsa
ayda
month.
AcrossthecourtesybaythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEggglitteredalongthewater,andthehistoryofthesummerreally
başladı
beginsontheeveningIdroveovertheretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.
Daisywasmysecondcousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.
AndjustafterthewarI
geçirdim
spenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Herhusband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofthemostpowerfulendsthateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anational
figür
figureinaway,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchanacutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.
Hisfamilywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomwithmoneywasamatterforreproach—butnowhe’dleftChicagoandcome
Doğu
Eastinafashionthatrathertookyourbreathaway:
forinstance,he’dbroughtdownastringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.
Itwashardtorealizethatamaninmyowngenerationwaswealthyenoughtodothat.
Whytheycame
Doğu
EastIdon’tknow.
Theyhad
geçirdiler
spentayearinFrancefornoparticularreason,andthendriftedhereandthereunrestfullywhereverpeopleplayedpoloandwere
zengin
richtogether.
Thiswasapermanentmove,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,butIdidn’tbelieveit—IhadnosightintoDaisy’sheart,butIfeltthatTomwoulddriftonforeverseeking,alittlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.
Andsoithappenedthatona
ılık
warmwindyeveningIdroveovertoEastEggtoseetwooldfriendswhomIscarcelyknewatall.
TheirhousewasevenmoreelaboratethanIexpected,acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingthebay.
Thelawnstartedatthebeachandrantowardsthefrontdoorforaquarterofamile,
atladı
jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthehousedriftingupthesideinbrightvinesasthoughfromthemomentumofitsrun.
ThefrontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,glowingnowwithreflected
altın
goldandwideopentothe
sıcak
warmwindyafternoon,andTomBuchananinridingclotheswasstandingwithhislegsapartonthefrontporch.
HehadchangedsincehisNewHavenyears.
Nowhewasasturdystraw-hairedmanofthirty,witha
oldukça
ratherhardmouthandasuperciliousmanner.
Twoshiningarroganteyeshadestablisheddominanceoverhisfaceandgavehimtheappearanceofalwaysleaningaggressively
öne
forward.
Noteventheeffeminateswankofhisridingclothescouldhidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthetoplacing,andyoucouldseeagreatpackofmuscleshiftingwhenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.
Itwasabodycapableofenormousleverage—acruelbody.
Hisspeaking
sesi
voice,agruffhuskytenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.
Therewasatouchofpaternalcontemptinit,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwhohadhatedhisguts.
“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtosay,“justbecauseI’mstrongerandmoreofamanthanyouare.”
Wewereinthesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewereneverintimateIalwayshadtheimpressionthatheapprovedofmeandwantedmetolikehimwithsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhisown.
Wetalkedforafewminutesonthesunnyporch.
“I’vegotaniceplacehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hemovedabroadflathandalongthefrontvista,includinginitssweepasunkenItaliangarden,ahalfacreof
derin
deep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthetideoffshore.
“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearoundagain,politelyandabruptly.
“We’llgoinside.”
Wewalkedthroughahighhallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.
Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhiteagainstthe
taze
freshgrassoutsidethatseemedtogrowalittlewayintothehouse.
Abreezeblewthroughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneendandouttheotherlikepaleflags,twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheceiling,andthenrippledoverthewine-colouredrug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthesea.
Theonly
tamamen
completelystationaryobjectintheroomwasanenormouscouchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponananchoredballoon.
Theywerebothinwhite,andtheir
giyinmişti
dresseswereripplingandflutteringasiftheyhadjustbeenblownbackinaftera
kısa
shortflightaroundthehouse.
Imusthavestoodforafewmomentslisteningtothewhipandsnapofthecurtainsandthegroanofapictureonthewall.
ThentherewasaboomasTomBuchananshuttherearwindowsandthecaught
rüzgar
winddiedoutabouttheroom,andthecurtainsandtherugsandthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.
Theyoungerofthetwowasastrangertome.
Shewasextendedfulllengthatherendofthedivan,completelymotionless,andwithherchinraisedalittle,asifshewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelytofall.
Ifshesawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshegavenohintofit—indeed,Iwasalmostsurprisedintomurmuringanapologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingin.
Theothergirl,Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleanedslightly
öne
forwardwithaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurd,charminglittle
kahkaha
laugh,andIlaughedtooandcame
öne
forwardintotheroom.
“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
She
güldü
laughedagain,asifshesaidsomethingverywitty,andheldmyhandforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promisingthattherewasnooneintheworldshesomuchwantedtosee.
Thatwasawayshehad.
ShehintedinamurmurthatthesurnameofthebalancinggirlwasBaker.
(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomakepeopleleantowardher;
anirrelevantcriticismthatmadeitnolesscharming.)
Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatmealmostimperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedherheadbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadobviouslytotteredalittleandgivenhersomethingofafright.
Againasortofapologyarosetomylips.
Almostanyexhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsastunnedtributefromme.
Ilookedbackatmycousin,whobegantoaskmequestionsinher
düşük
low,thrillingvoice.
Itwasthekindofvoicethattheearfollowsupanddown,asifeachspeechisanarrangementofnotesthatwillneverbeplayedagain.
Herfacewas
hüzünlü
sadandlovelywithbrightthingsinit,brighteyesandabrightpassionate
ağız
mouth,buttherewasanexcitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforherfound
zor
difficulttoforget:
asingingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”apromisethatshehaddone
eşcinsel
gay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceandthattherewere
eşcinsel
gay,excitingthingshoveringinthenexthour.
ItoldherhowIhadstoppedoffinChicagoforadayonmyway
Doğu
East,andhowadozenpeoplehadsenttheirlovethroughme.
“Dotheymissme?”
she
ağladı
criedecstatically.
“Thewholetownisdesolate.
Allthecarshavetheleftrearwheelpaintedblackasamourningwreath,andthere’sapersistentwailallnightalongthe
kuzey
northshore.”
“Howgorgeous!
Let’sgoback,Tom.
Tomorrow!”
Thensheaddedirrelevantly:
“Yououghttoseethebaby.”
“I’dliketo.”
“She’s
uyuyor
asleep.
She’sthreeyearsold.
Haven’tyoueverseenher?”
“Never.”
“Well,yououghttoseeher.
She’s—”.
TomBuchanan,whohadbeenhoveringrestlesslyabouttheroom,stoppedandrestedhishandonmyshoulder.
“Whatyoudoing,Nick?”
“I’mabondman.”
“Whowith?”
Itoldhim.
“Neverheardofthem,”heremarkeddecisively.
Thisannoyedme.
“Youwill,”Iansweredshortly.
“YouwillifyoustayintheEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayinthe
Doğu
East,don’tyouworry,”hesaid,glancingatDaisyandthenbackatme,asifhewerealertforsomethingmore.
“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
AtthispointMissBakersaid:
“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthefirstwordshehadutteredsinceIcameintotheroom.
Evidentlyit
şaşırttı
surprisedherasmuchasitdidme,forsheyawnedandwithaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstoodupintotheroom.
“I’mstiff,”shecomplained,“I’vebeenlyingonthatsofaforaslongasIcanremember.”
“Don’tlookatme,”Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingtogetyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”
“No,thanks,”saidMissBakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthepantry.
“I’m
kesinlikle
absolutelyintraining.”
Herhostlookedatherincredulously.
“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwerea
damla
dropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouevergetanythingdoneisbeyondme.”
IlookedatMissBaker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”
Ienjoyedlookingather.
Shewasaslender,small-breastedgirl,withanerectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikeayoungcadet.
Hergreysun-strainedeyeslookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocalcuriosityoutofawan,charming,discontentedface.
ItoccurredtomenowthatIhadseenher,orapictureofher,somewherebefore.
“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“Iknowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’tknowasingle—”.
“YoumustknowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demandedDaisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
BeforeIcouldreplythathewasmyneighbourdinnerwasannounced;
wedginghistensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweremovingacheckertoanothersquare.
Slenderly,languidly,theirhandssetlightlyontheirhips,thetwoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoarosy-colouredporch,opentowardthesunset,wherefourcandlesflickeredonthe
masada
tableinthediminishedwind.
“Whycandles?”
objectedDaisy,frowning.
Shesnappedthemoutwithherfingers.
“Intwoweeksit’llbethelongestdayintheyear.”
Shelookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyoualwayswatchforthelongestdayoftheyearandthenmissit?
Ialwayswatchforthelongestdayintheyearandthenmissit.”
“Weoughttoplansomething,”yawnedMissBaker,sittingdownatthe
masada
tableasifsheweregettingintobed.
“Allright,”saidDaisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdopeopleplan?”
BeforeIcouldanswerhereyesfastenedwithanawedexpressiononherlittlefinger.
“Look!”
shecomplained;
“Ihurtit.”
Wealllooked—theknucklewasblackandblue.
“Youdidit,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,butyoudiddoit.
That’swhatIgetformarryingabruteofaman,agreat,big,hulkingphysicalspecimenofa—”.
“Ihatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”insistedDaisy.
SometimessheandMissBakertalkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandwithabanteringinconsequencethatwasneverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedressesandtheirimpersonaleyesintheabsenceofalldesire.
Theywerehere,andtheyacceptedTomandme,makingonlyapolitepleasantefforttoentertainortobeentertained.
Theyknewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoverandalittlelaterthe
akşam
eveningtoowouldbeoverandcasuallyputaway.
Itwassharplydifferentfromthe
Batı
West,whereaneveningwashurriedfromphasetophasetowardsitsclose,inacontinuallydisappointedanticipationorelseinsheernervousdreadofthemomentitself.
“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”Iconfessedonmysecond
bardak
glassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.
“Can’tyoutalkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularbythisremark,butitwastakenupinanunexpectedway.
“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTomviolently.
“I’vegottentobea
korkunç
terriblepessimistaboutthings.
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbythismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”Ianswered,rathersurprisedbyhistone.
“Well,it’safinebook,andeverybodyoughttoreadit.
Theideaisifwedon’tlookoutthewhite
ırk
racewillbe—willbeutterlysubmerged.
It’sallscientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”