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The Great Gatsby
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Chapter 4 - Part 1
On Sunday morning while church bells rang in the villages alongshore, the world and its mistress returned to Gatsby’s house and twinkled hilariously2 on his lawn.
“He’s a bootlegger,” said the young ladies, moving somewhere between his cocktails3 and his flowers. “One time he killed a man who had found out that he was nephew to Von Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil. Reach me a rose, honey, and pour me a last drop into that there crystal glass.”
Once I wrote down on the empty spaces of a time-table the names of those who came to Gatsby’s house that summer. It is an old time-table now, disintegrating4 at its folds, and headed “This schedule in effect July 5th, 1922.” But I can still read the gray names, and they will give you a better impression than my generalities of those who accepted Gatsby’s hospitality and paid him the subtle tribute of knowing nothing whatever about him.
From East Egg, then, came the Chester Beckers and the Leeches5, and a man named Bunsen, whom I knew at Yale, and Doctor Webster Civet, who was drowned last summer up in Maine. And the Hornbeams and the Willie Voltaires, and a whole clan6 named Blackbuck, who always gathered in a corner and flipped7 up their noses like goats at whosoever came near. And the Ismays and the Chrysties (or rather Hubert Auerbach and Mr. Chrystie’s wife), and Edgar Beaver8, whose hair, they say, turned cotton-white one winter afternoon for no good reason at all.
Clarence Endive was from East Egg, as I remember. He came only once, in white knickerbockers, and had a fight with a bum9 named Etty in the garden. From farther out on the Island came the Cheadles and the O. R. P. Schraeders, and the Stonewall Jackson Abrams of Georgia, and the Fishguards and the Ripley Snells. Snell was there three days before he went to the penitentiary10, so drunk out on the gravel11 drive that Mrs. Ulysses Swett’s automobile12 ran over his right hand. The Dancies came, too, and S. B. Whitebait, who was well over sixty, and Maurice A. Flink, and the Hammerheads, and Beluga the tobacco importer, and Beluga’s girls.
From West Egg came the Poles and the Mulreadys and Cecil Roebuck and Cecil Schoen and Gulick the state senator and Newton Orchid13, who controlled Films Par1 Excellence14, and Eckhaust and Clyde Cohen and Don S. Schwartze (the son) and Arthur McCarty, all connected with the movies in one way or another. And the Catlips and the Bembergs and G. Earl Muldoon, brother to that Muldoon who afterward15 strangled his wife. Da Fontano the promoter came there, and Ed Legros and James B. (“Rot-Gut.”) Ferret and the De Jongs and Ernest Lilly—they came to gamble, and when Ferret wandered into the garden it meant he was cleaned out and Associated Traction16 would have to fluctuate profitably next day.
A man named Klipspringer was there so often and so long that he became known as “the boarder.”—I doubt if he had any other home. Of theatrical17 people there were Gus Waize and Horace O’donavan and Lester Meyer and George Duckweed and Francis Bull. Also from New York were the Chromes and the Backhyssons and the Dennickers and Russel Betty and the Corrigans and the Kellehers and the Dewars and the Scullys and S. W. Belcher and the Smirkes and the young Quinns, divorced now, and Henry L. Palmetto, who killed himself by jumping in front of a subway train in Times Square.
Benny McClenahan arrived always with four girls. They were never quite the same ones in physical person, but they were so identical one with another that it inevitably18 seemed they had been there before. I have forgotten their names—Jaqueline, I think, or else Consuela, or Gloria or Judy or June, and their last names were either the melodious19 names of flowers and months or the sterner ones of the great American capitalists whose cousins, if pressed, they would confess themselves to be.
In addition to all these I can remember that Faustina O’brien came there at least once and the Baedeker girls and young Brewer20, who had his nose shot off in the war, and Mr. Albrucksburger and Miss Haag, his fiancee, and Ardita Fitz-Peters and Mr. P. Jewett, once head of the American Legion, and Miss Claudia Hip21, with a man reputed to be her chauffeur22, and a prince of something, whom we called Duke, and whose name, if I ever knew it, I have forgotten.
All these people came to Gatsby’s house in the summer.
At nine o’clock, one morning late in July, Gatsby’s gorgeous car lurched up the rocky drive to my door and gave out a burst of melody from its three-noted horn. It was the first time he had called on me, though I had gone to two of his parties, mounted in his hydroplane, and, at his urgent invitation, made frequent use of his beach.
“Good morning, old sport. You’re having lunch with me to-day and I thought we’d ride up together.”
He was balancing himself on the dashboard of his car with that resourcefulness of movement that is so peculiarly American—that comes, I suppose, with the absence of lifting work or rigid23 sitting in youth and, even more, with the formless grace of our nervous, sporadic24 games.
We started to town.
I had talked with him perhaps half a dozen times in the past month and found, to my disappointment, that he had little to say: So my first impression, that he was a person of some undefined consequence, had gradually faded and he had become simply the proprietor25 of an elaborate road-house next door.
And then came that disconcerting ride. We hadn’t reached West Egg village before Gatsby began leaving his elegant sentences unfinished and slapping himself indecisively on the knee of his caramel-colored suit.
“Look here, old sport,” he broke out surprisingly. “What’s your opinion of me, anyhow?” A little overwhelmed, I began the generalized evasions26 which that question deserves.
“Well, I’m going to tell you something about my life,” he interrupted. “I don’t want you to get a wrong idea of me from all these stories you hear.”
So he was aware of the bizarre accusations27 that flavored conversation in his halls.
“I’ll tell you God’s truth.” His right hand suddenly ordered divine retribution to stand by. “I am the son of some wealthy people in the Middle West—all dead now. I was brought up in America but educated at Oxford28, because all my ancestors have been educated there for many years. It is a family tradition.”
He looked at me sideways—and I knew why Jordan Baker29 had believed he was lying. He hurried the phrase “educated at Oxford,” or swallowed it, or choked on it, as though it had bothered him before. And with this doubt, his whole statement fell to pieces, and I wondered if there wasn’t something a little sinister30 about him, after all.
“San Francisco.”
“I see.”
“My family all died and I came into a good deal of money.”
His voice was solemn, as if the memory of that sudden extinction32 of a clan still haunted him. For a moment I suspected that he was pulling my leg, but a glance at him convinced me otherwise.
“After that I lived like a young rajah in all the capitals of Europe—Paris, Venice, Rome—collecting jewels, chiefly rubies33, hunting big game, painting a little, things for myself only, and trying to forget something very sad that had happened to me long ago.”
With an effort I managed to restrain my incredulous laughter. The very phrases were worn so threadbare that they evoked34 no image except that of a turbaned “character.” leaking sawdust at every pore as he pursued a tiger through the Bois de Boulogne.
“Then came the war, old sport. It was a great relief, and I tried very hard to die, but I seemed to bear an enchanted35 life. I accepted a commission as first lieutenant36 when it began. In the Argonne Forest I took two machine-gun detachments so far forward that there was a half mile gap on either side of us where the infantry37 couldn’t advance. We stayed there two days and two nights, a hundred and thirty men with sixteen Lewis guns, and when the infantry came up at last they found the insignia of three German divisions among the piles of dead. I was promoted to be a major, and every Allied38 government gave me a decoration—even Montenegro, little Montenegro down on the Adriatic Sea!”
Little Montenegro! He lifted up the words and nodded at them—with his smile. The smile comprehended Montenegro’s troubled history and sympathized with the brave struggles of the Montenegrin people. It appreciated fully39 the chain of national circumstances which had elicited40 this tribute from Montenegro’s warm little heart. My incredulity was submerged in fascination41 now; it was like skimming hastily through a dozen magazines.
“That’s the one from Montenegro.”
“Orderi di Danilo,” ran the circular legend, “Montenegro, Nicolas Rex.”
“Turn it.”
“Major Jay Gatsby,” I read, “For Valour Extraordinary.”
“Here’s another thing I always carry. A souvenir of Oxford days. It was taken in Trinity Quad—the man on my left is now the Earl of Dorcaster.”
It was a photograph of half a dozen young men in blazers loafing in an archway through which were visible a host of spires45. There was Gatsby, looking a little, not much, younger—with a cricket bat in his hand.
Then it was all true. I saw the skins of tigers flaming in his palace on the Grand Canal; I saw him opening a chest of rubies to ease, with their crimson-lighted depths, the gnawings of his broken heart.
“I’m going to make a big request of you to-day,” he said, pocketing his souvenirs with satisfaction, “so I thought you ought to know something about me. I didn’t want you to think I was just some nobody. You see, I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad thing that happened to me.” He hesitated. “You’ll hear about it this afternoon.”
“At lunch?”
“No, this afternoon. I happened to find out that you’re taking Miss Baker to tea.”
“Do you mean you’re in love with Miss Baker?”
点击收听单词发音
1 par | |
n.标准,票面价值,平均数量;adj.票面的,平常的,标准的 | |
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2 hilariously | |
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3 cocktails | |
n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 );餐前开胃菜;混合物 | |
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4 disintegrating | |
v.(使)破裂[分裂,粉碎],(使)崩溃( disintegrate的现在分词 ) | |
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5 leeches | |
n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 );蚂蟥;榨取他人脂膏者;医生 | |
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6 clan | |
n.氏族,部落,宗族,家族,宗派 | |
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7 flipped | |
轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 ); 按(开关); 快速翻转; 急挥 | |
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8 beaver | |
n.海狸,河狸 | |
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9 bum | |
n.臀部;流浪汉,乞丐;vt.乞求,乞讨 | |
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10 penitentiary | |
n.感化院;监狱 | |
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11 gravel | |
n.砂跞;砂砾层;结石 | |
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12 automobile | |
n.汽车,机动车 | |
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13 orchid | |
n.兰花,淡紫色 | |
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14 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
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15 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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16 traction | |
n.牵引;附着摩擦力 | |
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17 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
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18 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
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19 melodious | |
adj.旋律美妙的,调子优美的,音乐性的 | |
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20 brewer | |
n. 啤酒制造者 | |
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21 hip | |
n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
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22 chauffeur | |
n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机;v.为…开车 | |
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23 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
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24 sporadic | |
adj.偶尔发生的 [反]regular;分散的 | |
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25 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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26 evasions | |
逃避( evasion的名词复数 ); 回避; 遁辞; 借口 | |
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27 accusations | |
n.指责( accusation的名词复数 );指控;控告;(被告发、控告的)罪名 | |
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28 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
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29 baker | |
n.面包师 | |
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30 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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31 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
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32 extinction | |
n.熄灭,消亡,消灭,灭绝,绝种 | |
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33 rubies | |
红宝石( ruby的名词复数 ); 红宝石色,深红色 | |
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34 evoked | |
[医]诱发的 | |
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35 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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36 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
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37 infantry | |
n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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38 allied | |
adj.协约国的;同盟国的 | |
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39 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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40 elicited | |
引出,探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41 fascination | |
n.令人着迷的事物,魅力,迷恋 | |
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42 slung | |
抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 ); 吊挂; 遣送; 押往 | |
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43 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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44 authentic | |
a.真的,真正的;可靠的,可信的,有根据的 | |
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45 spires | |
n.(教堂的) 塔尖,尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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46 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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