I
InmyyoungerandmorevulnerableyearsmyfathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmymindeversince.
“Wheneveryoufeellikecriticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justrememberthatallthepeopleinthisworldhaven’thadtheadvantagesthatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’tsayanymore,butwe’vealwaysbeenunusuallycommunicativeinareservedway,andIunderstoodthathemeantagreatdealmorethanthat.
Inconsequence,I’minclinedtoreservealljudgements,ahabitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestomeandalsomademethevictimofnotafewveteranbores.
Theabnormalmindisquicktodetectandattachitselftothisqualitywhenitappearsinanormalperson,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustlyaccusedofbeingapolitician,becauseIwasprivytothe
таємні
secretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyIhavefeignedsleep,preoccupation,orahostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakablesignthatanintimaterevelationwasquiveringonthehorizon;
fortheintimaterevelationsofyoungmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpressthem,are
зазвичай
usuallyplagiaristicandmarredbyobvioussuppressions.Reservingjudgementsisamatterofinfinitehope.
IamstillalittleafraidofmissingsomethingifIforgetthat,asmyfathersnobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,a
почуття
senseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelledoutunequallyatbirth.And,afterboastingthiswayofmytolerance,Icometotheadmissionthatithasalimit.
Conductmaybefoundedonthehard
скелі
rockorthewetmarshes,butafteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfoundedon.WhenIcamebackfromthe
Сходу
EastlastautumnIfeltthatIwantedtheworldtobeinuniformandatasortofmoralувагу
attentionforever;Iwantednomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesintothehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,themanwhogiveshisnametothisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,whorepresentedeverythingforwhichIhaveanunaffectedscorn.
Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewassomethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightenedsensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthatregisterearthquakesten
тисяч
thousandmilesaway.Thisresponsivenesshadnothingtodowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignifiedunderthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinary
дар
giftforhope,aromanticreadinesssuchasIhaveneverfoundinanyotherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshalleverfindagain.No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldustfloatedinthewakeofhisdreamsthattemporarilyclosedoutmy
інтерес
interestintheabortivesorrowsandshort-windedelationsofmen.Myfamilyhavebeenprominent,well-to-dopeopleinthisMiddleWesterncityforthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysaresomethingofaclan,andwehaveatraditionthatwe’redescendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,buttheactualfounderofmylinewasmygrandfather’sbrother,whocamehereinfifty-one,sentasubstitutetotheCivilWar,andstartedthewholesalehardwarebusinessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.
Ineversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedtolooklikehim—withspecialreferencetothe
досить
ratherhard-boiledpaintingthathangsinfather’soffice.IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,justaquarterofacenturyaftermyfather,andalittlelaterIparticipatedinthatdelayedTeutonicmigrationknownastheGreatWar.
Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughlythatIcamebackrestless.
Insteadofbeingthewarmcentreoftheworld,theMiddle
Захід
Westnowseemedliketheraggededgeoftheuniverse—soIdecidedtogoСхід
Eastandlearnthebondbusiness.EverybodyIknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposeditcouldsupportonemoresingleman.
Allmyauntsandunclestalkeditoverasiftheywerechoosingaprepschoolforme,and
нарешті
finallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”withverygrave,hesitantfaces.Fatheragreedtofinancemeforayear,andaftervariousdelaysIcame
Схід
East,permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.Thepracticalthingwastofindroomsinthecity,butitwasa
тепла
warmseason,andIhadjustleftacountryofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,sowhenayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwetakeahousetogetherinacommutingtown,itsoundedlikeagreatidea.Hefoundthehouse,aweather-beatencardboardbungalowateightya
місяць
month,butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,andIwentouttothecountryalone.Ihadadog—atleastIhadhimforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andanoldDodgeandaFinnishwoman,whomademybedandcooked
сніданок
breakfastandmutteredFinnishwisdomtoherselfovertheelectricstove.Itwaslonelyforadayorsountilonemorningsomeman,morerecentlyarrivedthanI,stoppedmeonthe
дорозі
road.“Howdoyougetto
Вест
WestEggvillage?”heaskedhelplessly.
Itoldhim.
AndasIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
Hehadcasuallyconferredonmethefreedomoftheneighbourhood.
Andsowiththesunshineandthegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,justasthingsgrowinfastmovies,Ihadthatfamiliarconvictionthatlifewasbeginningoveragainwiththesummer.
Therewassomuchtoread,foronething,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulleddownoutoftheyoungbreath-givingair.
Iboughtadozenvolumesonbankingandcreditandinvestmentsecurities,andtheystoodonmyshelfinredandgoldlikenewmoneyfromthemint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidasandMorganandMaecenasknew.
AndIhadthehighintentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.
Iwas
досить
ratherliteraryincollege—oneyearIwroteaseriesofverysolemnandobviouseditorialsfortheYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingtobringbackallsuchthingsintomylifeandbecomeagainthatmostlimitedofallspecialists,the“well-roundedman.”Thisisn’tjustanepigram—lifeismuchmoresuccessfullylookedatfroma
одного
singlewindow,afterall.ItwasamatterofchancethatIshouldhaverentedahouseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
Itwasonthatslenderriotous
острові
islandwhichextendsitselfdueсхід
eastofNewYork—andwherethereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,twounusualformationsofземлі
land.Twentymilesfromthecityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontourandseparatedonlybyacourtesybay,jutoutintothemostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterintheWesternhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLong
Айленд
IslandSound.Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyarebothcrushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysicalresemblancemustbeasourceofperpetualwondertothegullsthatflyoverhead.
Tothewinglessamoreinterestingphenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticular
крім
exceptshapeandsize.Ilivedat
Вест
WestEgg,the—well,thelessfashionableofthetwo,thoughthisisamostsuperficialtagtoexpressthebizarreandnotalittlesinistercontrastbetweenthem.Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,andsqueezedbetweentwohugeplacesthatrentedfortwelveorfifteen
тисяч
thousandaseason.Theoneonmyrightwasacolossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactualimitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,withatowerononeside,spankingnewunderathinbeardofrawivy,andamarbleswimmingpool,andmorethanfortyacresoflawnandgarden.
ItwasGatsby’smansion.
Or,rather,asIdidn’tknowMr.Gatsby,itwasamansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthatname.
Myownhousewasaneyesore,butitwasasmalleyesore,andithadbeenoverlooked,soIhadaviewofthewater,apartialviewofmyneighbour’slawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsa
місяць
month.AcrossthecourtesybaythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEggglitteredalongthewater,andthehistoryofthe
літа
summerreallybeginsontheвечір
eveningIdroveovertheretohavedinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.Daisywasmysecondcousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.
AndjustafterthewarIspenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Herhusband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,hadbeenoneofthemostpowerfulendsthateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureinaway,oneofthosemenwhoreachsuchanacutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.
Hisfamilywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedomwithmoneywasamatterforreproach—butnowhe’dleftChicagoandcome
Схід
Eastinafashionthatскоріше
rathertookyourbreathaway:forinstance,he’dbroughtdownastringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.
Itwashardto
зрозуміти
realizethatamaninmyowngenerationwaswealthyenoughtodothat.Whytheycame
Схід
EastIdon’tknow.TheyhadspentayearinFrancefornoparticularreason,andthendriftedhereandthereunrestfullywhereverpeopleplayedpoloandwererichtogether.
Thiswasapermanentmove,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,butIdidn’tbelieveit—IhadnosightintoDaisy’sheart,butIfeltthatTomwoulddrifton
вічно
foreverseeking,alittlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.Andsoithappenedthatonawarmwindy
вечора
eveningIdroveovertoEastEggtoseetwooldfriendswhomIscarcelyknewatall.TheirhousewasevenmoreelaboratethanIexpected,acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingthebay.
Thelawnstartedatthe
пляжу
beachandrantowardsthefrontdoorforaquarterofamile,jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalksandburninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthehousedriftingupthesideinbrightvinesasthoughfromthemomentumofitsrun.ThefrontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,glowingnowwithreflectedgoldandwideopentothe
теплий
warmwindyafternoon,andTomBuchananinridingодяг
clotheswasstandingwithhislegsapartonthefrontporch.HehadchangedsincehisNewHavenyears.
Nowhewasasturdystraw-hairedmanofthirty,witha
досить
ratherhardmouthandasuperciliousmanner.Twoshiningarroganteyeshadestablisheddominanceoverhisfaceandgavehimtheappearanceofalwaysleaningaggressively
вперед
forward.Noteventheeffeminateswankofhisriding
одягу
clothescouldhidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthetoplacing,andyoucouldseeagreatpackofmuscleshiftingwhenhisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.Itwasabodycapableofenormousleverage—acruelbody.
Hisspeaking
голос
voice,agruffhuskytenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.Therewasatouchofpaternalcontemptinit,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwhohadhatedhisguts.
“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedtosay,“justbecauseI’mstrongerandmoreofamanthanyouare.”
Wewereinthesameseniorsociety,andwhilewewereneverintimateIalwayshadtheimpressionthatheapprovedofmeandwantedmetolikehimwithsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhisown.
Wetalkedforafewminutesonthesunnyporch.
“I’vegotaniceplacehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyonearm,hemovedabroadflathandalongthefrontvista,includinginitssweepasunkenItaliangarden,ahalfacreofdeep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthetideoffshore.
“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearoundagain,politelyandabruptly.
“We’llgoinside.”
Wewalkedthroughahighhallwayintoabrightrosy-coloured
простір
space,fragilelyboundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrassoutsidethatseemedto
рости
growalittlewayintothehouse.Abreezeblewthroughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatoneendandouttheotherlikepaleflags,twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheceiling,andthenrippledoverthewine-colouredrug,makingashadowonitaswinddoesonthe
морі
sea.Theonlycompletelystationaryobjectintheroomwasanenormouscouchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyedupasthoughuponananchoredballoon.
Theywerebothinwhite,andtheirdresseswereripplingandflutteringasiftheyhadjustbeenblownbackinafterashort
польоту
flightaroundthehouse.Imusthavestoodforafewmomentslisteningtothewhipandsnapofthecurtainsandthegroanofapictureonthe
стіні
wall.ThentherewasaboomasTomBuchananshuttherearwindowsandthecaught
вітер
winddiedoutabouttheroom,andthecurtainsandtherugsandthetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.Theyoungerofthetwowasastrangertome.
Shewasextendedfulllengthatherendofthedivan,completelymotionless,andwithherchinraisedalittle,asifshewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelytofall.
Ifshesawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshegavenohintofit—indeed,Iwasalmostsurprisedintomurmuringanapologyforhavingdisturbedherbycomingin.
Theothergirl,Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleanedslightly
вперед
forwardwithaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurd,charminglittleсміх
laugh,andIlaughedtooandcameвперед
forwardintotheroom.“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughedagain,asifshesaidsomethingverywitty,andheldmyhandforamoment,lookingupintomyface,promisingthattherewasnooneintheworldshesomuchwantedtosee.
Thatwasawayshehad.
ShehintedinamurmurthatthesurnameofthebalancinggirlwasBaker.
(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomakepeopleleantowardher;
anirrelevantcriticismthatmadeitno
менш
lesscharming.)Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatmealmostimperceptibly,andthen
швидко
quicklytippedherheadbackagain—theobjectshewasbalancinghadочевидно
obviouslytotteredalittleandgivenhersomethingofafright.Againasortofapologyarosetomylips.
Almostanyexhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydrawsastunnedtributefromme.
Ilookedbackatmycousin,whobegantoaskmequestionsinher
низьким
low,thrillingvoice.Itwasthekindof
голос
voicethattheearfollowsupanddown,asifeachspeechisanarrangementofnotesthatwillneverbeplayedagain.Herfacewassadandlovelywithbrightthingsinit,brighteyesandabrightpassionatemouth,buttherewasanexcitementinhervoicethatmenwhohadcaredforherfound
важко
difficulttoforget:asingingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”apromisethatshehaddonegay,excitingthingsjustawhilesinceandthatthereweregay,excitingthingshoveringinthenexthour.
ItoldherhowIhadstoppedoffinChicagoforadayonmyway
Схід
East,andhowadozenpeoplehadsenttheirlovethroughme.“Dotheymissme?”
shecriedecstatically.
“Thewholetownisdesolate.
Allthecarshavetheleftrearwheelpaintedblackasamourningwreath,andthere’sapersistentwailallnightalongthenorthshore.”
“Howgorgeous!
Let’sgoback,Tom.
Tomorrow!”
Thensheaddedirrelevantly:
“Yououghttoseethebaby.”
“I’dliketo.”
“She’s
спить
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
Сході
East,don’tyouworry,”hesaid,glancingatDaisyandthenbackatme,asifhewerealertforsomethingmore.“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltolive
десь
anywhereelse.”AtthispointMissBakersaid:
“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthefirstwordshehadutteredsinceIcameintotheroom.
Evidentlyitsurprisedherasmuchasitdidme,forsheyawnedandwithaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstoodupintotheroom.
“I’mstiff,”shecomplained,“I’vebeenlyingonthatsofaforaslongasIcanremember.”
“Don’tlookatme,”Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingtogetyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”
“No,thanks,”saidMissBakertothefourcocktailsjustinfromthepantry.
“I’m
абсолютно
absolutelyintraining.”Herhostlookedatherincredulously.
“Youare!”
Hetookdownhisdrinkasifitwereadropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouevergetanythingdoneisbeyondme.”
IlookedatMissBaker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”
Ienjoyedlookingather.
Shewasaslender,small-breastedgirl,withanerectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikeayoungcadet.
Hergreysun-strainedeyeslookedbackatmewithpolitereciprocalcuriosityoutofawan,charming,discontentedface.
ItoccurredtomenowthatIhadseenher,ora
фотографію
pictureofher,somewherebefore.“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“Iknowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’tknowasingle—”.
“YoumustknowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demandedDaisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
BeforeIcouldreplythathewasmyneighbourdinnerwasannounced;
wedginghistense
руку
armimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughheweremovingacheckertoanothersquare.Slenderly,languidly,theirhandssetlightlyontheirhips,thetwoyoungwomenprecededusoutontoarosy-colouredporch,opentowardthesunset,wherefourcandlesflickeredonthe
столі
tableinthediminishedwind.“Whycandles?”
objectedDaisy,frowning.
Shesnappedthemoutwithherfingers.
“Intwoweeksit’llbethelongestdayintheyear.”
Shelookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyoualwayswatchforthelongestdayoftheyearandthenmissit?
Ialwayswatchforthelongestdayintheyearandthenmissit.”
“Weoughttoplansomething,”yawnedMissBaker,sittingdownatthe
стіл
tableasifsheweregettingintobed.“Allright,”saidDaisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdopeopleplan?”
BeforeIcouldanswerhereyesfastenedwithanawedexpressiononherlittlefinger.
“Look!”
shecomplained;
“Ihurtit.”
Wealllooked—theknucklewasblackand
синій
blue.“Youdidit,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,butyoudiddoit.
That’swhatIgetformarryingabruteofaman,agreat,big,hulkingphysicalspecimenofa—”.
“Ihatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”insistedDaisy.
SometimessheandMissBakertalkedatonce,unobtrusivelyandwithabanteringinconsequencethatwasneverquitechatter,thatwasascoolastheirwhitedressesandtheirimpersonaleyesintheabsenceofalldesire.
Theywerehere,andtheyacceptedTomandme,makingonlyapolitepleasantefforttoentertainortobeentertained.
Theyknewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeoverandalittlelaterthe
вечір
eveningtoowouldbeoverandcasuallyputaway.ItwassharplydifferentfromtheWest,wherean
вечір
eveningwashurriedfromphasetophasetowardsitsclose,inacontinuallydisappointedanticipationorelseinsheernervousdreadofthemomentitself.“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”Iconfessedonmysecondglassofcorkybut
досить
ratherimpressiveclaret.“Can’tyoutalkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularbythisremark,butitwastakenupinanunexpectedway.
“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”brokeoutTomviolently.
“I’vegottentobeaterriblepessimistaboutthings.
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresbythismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”Ianswered,
досить
rathersurprisedbyhistone.“Well,it’safinebook,andeverybodyoughttoreadit.
Theideaisifwedon’tlookoutthewhiteracewillbe—willbeutterlysubmerged.
It’sallscientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”