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The Great Gatsby
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Chapter 1 - Part 2
His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor1, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal2 contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven3 who had hated his guts4.
“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.” We were in the same senior society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant6 wistfulness of his own.
We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.
“I’ve got a nice place here,” he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.
Turning me around by one arm, he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista7, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep, pungent8 roses, and a snub-nosed motor-boat that bumped the tide offshore9.
“It belonged to Demaine, the oil man.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly10. “We’ll go inside.”
We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled11 over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
The only completely stationary12 object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed13 up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling14 and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan15 of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room, and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.
The younger of the two was a stranger to me. She was extended full length at her end of the divan16, completely motionless, and with her chin raised a little, as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall. If she saw me out of the corner of her eyes she gave no hint of it—indeed, I was almost surprised into murmuring an apology for having disturbed her by coming in.
The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise—she leaned slightly forward with a conscientious18 expression—then she laughed, an absurd, charming little laugh, and I laughed too and came forward into the room.
“I’m p-paralyzed with happiness.” She laughed again, as if she said something very witty19, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face, promising20 that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had. She hinted in a murmur17 that the surname of the balancing girl was Baker21. (I’ve heard it said that Daisy’s murmur was only to make people lean toward her; an irrelevant22 criticism that made it no less charming.)
At any rate, Miss Baker’s lips fluttered, she nodded at me almost imperceptibly, and then quickly tipped her head back again—the object she was balancing had obviously tottered23 a little and given her something of a fright. Again a sort of apology arose to my lips. Almost any exhibition of complete self-sufficiency draws a stunned24 tribute from me.
I looked back at my cousin, who began to ask me questions in her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again. Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate25 mouth, but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen,” a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering26 in the next hour.
I told her how I had stopped off in Chicago for a day on my way East, and how a dozen people had sent their love through me.
“Do they miss me?” she cried ecstatically.
“The whole town is desolate27. All the cars have the left rear wheel painted black as a mourning wreath, and there’s a persistent28 wail29 all night along the north shore.”
“How gorgeous! Let’s go back, Tom. To-morrow!” Then she added irrelevantly30: “You ought to see the baby.”
“I’d like to.”
“She’s asleep. She’s three years old. Haven’t you ever seen her?”
“Never.”
“Well, you ought to see her. She’s——”
Tom Buchanan, who had been hovering restlessly about the room, stopped and rested his hand on my shoulder.
“What you doing, Nick?”
“I’m a bond man.”
“Who with?”
I told him.
“Never heard of them,” he remarked decisively.
This annoyed me.
“You will,” I answered shortly. “You will if you stay in the East.”
“Oh, I’ll stay in the East, don’t you worry,” he said, glancing at Daisy and then back at me, as if he were alert for something more. “I’d be a God damned fool to live anywhere else.”
At this point Miss Baker said: “Absolutely!” with such suddenness that I started—it was the first word she uttered since I came into the room. Evidently it surprised her as much as it did me, for she yawned and with a series of rapid, deft31 movements stood up into the room.
“I’m stiff,” she complained, “I’ve been lying on that sofa for as long as I can remember.”
“Don’t look at me,” Daisy retorted, “I’ve been trying to get you to New York all afternoon.”
“No, thanks,” said Miss Baker to the four cocktails32 just in from the pantry, “I’m absolutely in training.”
Her host looked at her incredulously.
“You are!” He took down his drink as if it were a drop in the bottom of a glass. “How you ever get anything done is beyond me.”
I looked at Miss Baker, wondering what it was she “got done.” I enjoyed looking at her. She was a slender, small-breasted girl, with an erect33 carriage, which she accentuated34 by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet. Her gray sun-strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan5, charming, discontented face. It occurred to me now that I had seen her, or a picture of her, somewhere before.
“You live in West Egg,” she remarked contemptuously. “I know somebody there.”
“I don’t know a single——”
“You must know Gatsby.”
“Gatsby?” demanded Daisy. “What Gatsby?”
Before I could reply that he was my neighbor dinner was announced; wedging his tense arm imperatively35 under mine, Tom Buchanan compelled me from the room as though he were moving a checker to another square.
Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips36, the two young women preceded us out onto a rosy-colored porch, open toward the sunset, where four candles flickered37 on the table in the diminished wind.
“Why CANDLES?” objected Daisy, frowning. She snapped them out with her fingers. “In two weeks it’ll be the longest day in the year.” She looked at us all radiantly. “Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.”
“We ought to plan something,” yawned Miss Baker, sitting down at the table as if she were getting into bed.
“All right,” said Daisy. “What’ll we plan?” She turned to me helplessly: “What do people plan?”
“Look!” she complained; “I hurt it.”
“You did it, Tom,” she said accusingly. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you DID do it. That’s what I get for marrying a brute40 of a man, a great, big, hulking physical specimen41 of a——”
“I hate that word hulking,” objected Tom crossly, “even in kidding.”
“Hulking,” insisted Daisy.
Sometimes she and Miss Baker talked at once, unobtrusively and with a bantering42 inconsequence that was never quite chatter43, that was as cool as their white dresses and their impersonal44 eyes in the absence of all desire. They were here, and they accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained. They knew that presently dinner would be over and a little later the evening too would be over and casually45 put away. It was sharply different from the West, where an evening was hurried from phase to phase toward its close, in a continually disappointed anticipation46 or else in sheer nervous dread47 of the moment itself.
“You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy,” I confessed on my second glass of corky but rather impressive claret. “Can’t you talk about crops or something?”
I meant nothing in particular by this remark, but it was taken up in an unexpected way.
“Civilization’s going to pieces,” broke out Tom violently. “I’ve gotten to be a terrible pessimist48 about things. Have you read ‘The Rise of the Colored Empires’ by this man Goddard?”
“Why, no,” I answered, rather surprised by his tone.
“Well, it’s a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we don’t look out the white race will be—will be utterly49 submerged. It’s all scientific stuff; it’s been proved.”
“Tom’s getting very profound,” said Daisy, with an expression of unthoughtful sadness. “He reads deep books with long words in them. What was that word we——”
“Well, these books are all scientific,” insisted Tom, glancing at her impatiently. “This fellow has worked out the whole thing. It’s up to us, who are the dominant50 race, to watch out or these other races will have control of things.”
“You ought to live in California—” began Miss Baker, but Tom interrupted her by shifting heavily in his chair.
“This idea is that we’re Nordics. I am, and you are, and you are, and——” After an infinitesimal hesitation54 he included Daisy with a slight nod, and she winked55 at me again. “—And we’ve produced all the things that go to make civilization—oh, science and art, and all that. Do you see?”
There was something pathetic in his concentration, as if his complacency, more acute than of old, was not enough to him any more. When, almost immediately, the telephone rang inside and the butler left the porch Daisy seized upon the momentary56 interruption and leaned toward me.
“I’ll tell you a family secret,” she whispered enthusiastically. “It’s about the butler’s nose. Do you want to hear about the butler’s nose?”
“That’s why I came over to-night.”
“Well, he wasn’t always a butler; he used to be the silver polisher for some people in New York that had a silver service for two hundred people. He had to polish it from morning till night, until finally it began to affect his nose——”
“Things went from bad to worse,” suggested Miss Baker.
“Yes. Things went from bad to worse, until finally he had to give up his position.”
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1
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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offshore
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| adj.海面的，吹向海面的；adv.向海面 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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buoyed
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| v.使浮起( buoy的过去式和过去分词 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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16
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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18
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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23
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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24
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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26
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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27
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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33
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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34
accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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37
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
knuckle
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| n.指节；vi.开始努力工作；屈服，认输 | |
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40
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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41
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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42
bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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43
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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44
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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45
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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48
pessimist
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| n.悲观者；悲观主义者；厌世 | |
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49
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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50
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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51
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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52
ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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53
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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54
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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55
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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