1. American Modernism May 31, 2011

2. Background Pp154-158 Pp154-158 The influence of the war The influence of the war development of feminism, gender and sex development of feminism, gender and sex disintegration of traditional values disintegration of traditional values

3. Willa Cather and My Antonia This great American novel tells the story of several immigrant families who move to rural Nebraska. Antonia is the eldest daughter of the Shimerdas and is a bold and free-hearted young woman who becomes the center of narrator Jim Burden's attention. The story has many elements but clearly documents the struggles of the hard-working immigrants that homesteaded the prairies, and does a particularly fine job covering the hardships that women faced in that difficult environment. My Antonia also provides Willa Cather with a platform to make some comments on women's rights while weaving a story where romantic interests are ultimately bandied about by the uncontrolled changes that occur in people's lives. The final book of Willa Cather's prairie trilogy, My Antonia, is considered her greatest accomplishment. My Antonia was first published in 1918. This great American novel tells the story of several immigrant families who move to rural Nebraska. Antonia is the eldest daughter of the Shimerdas and is a bold and free-hearted young woman who becomes the center of narrator Jim Burden's attention. The story has many elements but clearly documents the struggles of the hard-working immigrants that homesteaded the prairies, and does a particularly fine job covering the hardships that women faced in that difficult environment. My Antonia also provides Willa Cather with a platform to make some comments on women's rights while weaving a story where romantic interests are ultimately bandied about by the uncontrolled changes that occur in people's lives. The final book of Willa Cather's prairie trilogy, My Antonia, is considered her greatest accomplishment. My Antonia was first published in 1918.

4. I went away feeling that I must see Antonia again. Another girl would have kept her baby out of sight, but Tony, of course, must have its picture on exhibition at the town photographer's, in a great gilt frame. How like her! I could forgive her, I told myself, if she hadn't thrown herself away on such a cheap sort of fellow. I went away feeling that I must see Antonia again. Another girl would have kept her baby out of sight, but Tony, of course, must have its picture on exhibition at the town photographer's, in a great gilt frame. How like her! I could forgive her, I told myself, if she hadn't thrown herself away on such a cheap sort of fellow.

5. 'Well, in a few days we had a letter saying she got to Denver safe, and he was there to meet her. They were to be married in a few days. He was trying to get his promotion before he married, she said. I didn't like that, but I said nothing. The next week Yulka got a postal card, saying she was "well and happy." After that we heard nothing. A month went by, and old Mrs. Shimerda began to get fretful. 'Well, in a few days we had a letter saying she got to Denver safe, and he was there to meet her. They were to be married in a few days. He was trying to get his promotion before he married, she said. I didn't like that, but I said nothing. The next week Yulka got a postal card, saying she was "well and happy." After that we heard nothing. A month went by, and old Mrs. Shimerda began to get fretful.

6. 'I whispered and asked her to come out-of- doors with me. I knew she couldn't talk free before her mother. She went out with me, bareheaded, and we walked up toward the garden. 'I whispered and asked her to come out-of- doors with me. I knew she couldn't talk free before her mother. She went out with me, bareheaded, and we walked up toward the garden. '"I'm not married, Mrs. Steavens," she says to me very quiet and natural-like, "and I ought to be." '"I'm not married, Mrs. Steavens," she says to me very quiet and natural-like, "and I ought to be." '"Oh, my child," says I, "what's happened to you? Don't be afraid to tell me!" '"Oh, my child," says I, "what's happened to you? Don't be afraid to tell me!" 'She sat down on the drawside, out of sight of the house. "He's run away from me," she said. "I don't know if he ever meant to marry me." 'She sat down on the drawside, out of sight of the house. "He's run away from me," she said. "I don't know if he ever meant to marry me." '"You mean he's thrown up his job and quit the country?" says I. '"You mean he's thrown up his job and quit the country?" says I.

7. '"He didn't have any job. He'd been fired; blacklisted for knocking down fares. I didn't know. I thought he hadn't been treated right. He was sick when I got there. He'd just come out of the hospital. He lived with me till my money gave out, and afterward I found he hadn't really been hunting work at all. Then he just didn't come back. One nice fellow at the station told me, when I kept going to look for him, to give it up. He said he was afraid Larry'd gone bad and wouldn't come back any more. I guess he's gone to Old Mexico. The conductors get rich down there, collecting half-fares off the natives and robbing the company. He was always talking about fellows who had got ahead that way." '"He didn't have any job. He'd been fired; blacklisted for knocking down fares. I didn't know. I thought he hadn't been treated right. He was sick when I got there. He'd just come out of the hospital. He lived with me till my money gave out, and afterward I found he hadn't really been hunting work at all. Then he just didn't come back. One nice fellow at the station told me, when I kept going to look for him, to give it up. He said he was afraid Larry'd gone bad and wouldn't come back any more. I guess he's gone to Old Mexico. The conductors get rich down there, collecting half-fares off the natives and robbing the company. He was always talking about fellows who had got ahead that way." 'I asked her, of course, why she didn't insist on a civil marriage at once-- that would have given her some hold on him. She leaned her head on her hands, poor child, and said, "I just don't know, Mrs. Steavens. I guess my patience was wore out, waiting so long. I thought if he saw how well I could do for him, he'd want to stay with me." 'I asked her, of course, why she didn't insist on a civil marriage at once-- that would have given her some hold on him. She leaned her head on her hands, poor child, and said, "I just don't know, Mrs. Steavens. I guess my patience was wore out, waiting so long. I thought if he saw how well I could do for him, he'd want to stay with me."

8. 'The next time I saw Antonia, she was out in the fields ploughing corn. All that spring and summer she did the work of a man on the farm; it seemed to be an understood thing. Ambrosch didn't get any other hand to help him. Poor Marek had got violent and been sent away to an institution a good while back. We never even saw any of Tony's pretty dresses. She didn't take them out of her trunks. She was quiet and steady. Folks respected her industry and tried to treat her as if nothing had happened. They talked, to be sure; but not like they would if she'd put on airs. She was so crushed and quiet that nobody seemed to want to humble her. She never went anywhere. 'The next time I saw Antonia, she was out in the fields ploughing corn. All that spring and summer she did the work of a man on the farm; it seemed to be an understood thing. Ambrosch didn't get any other hand to help him. Poor Marek had got violent and been sent away to an institution a good while back. We never even saw any of Tony's pretty dresses. She didn't take them out of her trunks. She was quiet and steady. Folks respected her industry and tried to treat her as if nothing had happened. They talked, to be sure; but not like they would if she'd put on airs. She was so crushed and quiet that nobody seemed to want to humble her. She never went anywhere.

9. I TOLD ANTONIA I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Antonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, 'Your old friend, Antonia Cuzak.' When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Antonia had not 'done very well'; that her husband was not a man of much force, and she had had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Antonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again. I TOLD ANTONIA I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Antonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, 'Your old friend, Antonia Cuzak.' When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Antonia had not 'done very well'; that her husband was not a man of much force, and she had had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Antonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.

10. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed.

11. We sat down and watched them. Antonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish grey bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock's neck. Antonia said they always reminded her of soldiers--some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. We sat down and watched them. Antonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish grey bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock's neck. Antonia said they always reminded her of soldiers--some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child.

12. Willa Cather Willa Seibert Cather (1873 – 1947) was an American author who achieved recognition for her novels of frontier life on the Great Plains, in works such as O Pioneers!, My Ántonia, and The Song of the Lark. In 1923 she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours (1922), a novel set during World War I. Cather grew up in Nebraska and graduated from the University of Nebraska; she lived in New York for most of her adult life and writing career. Willa Seibert Cather (1873 – 1947) was an American author who achieved recognition for her novels of frontier life on the Great Plains, in works such as O Pioneers!, My Ántonia, and The Song of the Lark. In 1923 she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours (1922), a novel set during World War I. Cather grew up in Nebraska and graduated from the University of Nebraska; she lived in New York for most of her adult life and writing career.

13. Ernest Hemingway ( In 1954, when Hemingway was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, it was for "his mastery of the art of narrative, most recently demonstrated in The Old Man and the Sea, and for the influence that he has exerted on contemporary style. ” In 1954, when Hemingway was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, it was for "his mastery of the art of narrative, most recently demonstrated in The Old Man and the Sea, and for the influence that he has exerted on contemporary style. ”

14. Major works "Indian Camp" (1926) "Indian Camp" (1926) The Sun Also Rises (1926) The Sun Also Rises (1926) A Farewell to Arms (1929) A Farewell to Arms (1929) "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber" (1935) "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber" (1935) For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) The Old Man and the Sea (1951) The Old Man and the Sea (1951)

15. Henry Louis Gates believes Hemingway's style was fundamentally shaped "in reaction to [his] experience of world war". After World War I, he and other modernists "lost faith in the central institutions of Western civilization," by reacting against the "elaborate style" of 19th century writers; and by creating a style "in which meaning is established through dialogue, through action, and silences — a fiction in which nothing crucial — or at least very little — is stated explicitly." Henry Louis Gates believes Hemingway's style was fundamentally shaped "in reaction to [his] experience of world war". After World War I, he and other modernists "lost faith in the central institutions of Western civilization," by reacting against the "elaborate style" of 19th century writers; and by creating a style "in which meaning is established through dialogue, through action, and silences — a fiction in which nothing crucial — or at least very little — is stated explicitly."

16. Because he began as a writer of short stories, Baker believes Hemingway learned to "get the most from the least, how to prune language, how to multiply intensities and how to tell nothing but the truth in a way that allowed for telling more than the truth."[164] Hemingway referred to his style as the iceberg theory: in his writing the facts float above water; the supporting structure and symbolism operate out-of-sight.[164] Writing in "The Art of the Short Story," he explains: "A few things I have found to be true. If you leave out important things or events that you know about, the story is strengthened. If you leave or skip something because you do not know it, the story will be worthless. The test of any story is how very good the stuff that you, not your editors, omit." Because he began as a writer of short stories, Baker believes Hemingway learned to "get the most from the least, how to prune language, how to multiply intensities and how to tell nothing but the truth in a way that allowed for telling more than the truth."[164] Hemingway referred to his style as the iceberg theory: in his writing the facts float above water; the supporting structure and symbolism operate out-of-sight.[164] Writing in "The Art of the Short Story," he explains: "A few things I have found to be true. If you leave out important things or events that you know about, the story is strengthened. If you leave or skip something because you do not know it, the story will be worthless. The test of any story is how very good the stuff that you, not your editors, omit."

17. The theme of women and death is evident in Hemingways works, and one of the example is his early work: "Indian Camp". The theme of death permeates Hemingway's work. Young believes the emphasis in "Indian Camp" was not so much on the woman who gives birth or the father who commits suicide, but on Nick Adams who witnesses these events as a child, and becomes a "badly scarred and nervous young man." Hemingway sets the events in "Indian Camp" that shape the Adams persona. Young believes "Indian Camp" holds the "master key" to "what its author was up to for some thirty- five years of his writing career." The theme of women and death is evident in Hemingways works, and one of the example is his early work: "Indian Camp". The theme of death permeates Hemingway's work. Young believes the emphasis in "Indian Camp" was not so much on the woman who gives birth or the father who commits suicide, but on Nick Adams who witnesses these events as a child, and becomes a "badly scarred and nervous young man." Hemingway sets the events in "Indian Camp" that shape the Adams persona. Young believes "Indian Camp" holds the "master key" to "what its author was up to for some thirty- five years of his writing career."

18. The theme of emasculation is prevalent in Hemingway's work, most notably in The Sun Also Rises. Emasculation, according to Fiedler, is a result of a generation of wounded soldiers; and of a generation in which women such as Brett gained emancipation. This also applies to the minor character, Frances Clyne, The theme of emasculation is prevalent in Hemingway's work, most notably in The Sun Also Rises. Emasculation, according to Fiedler, is a result of a generation of wounded soldiers; and of a generation in which women such as Brett gained emancipation. This also applies to the minor character, Frances Clyne,

19. Stoltzfus considers Hemingway's work to be more complex with a representation of the truth inherent in existentialism: if "nothingness" is embraced, then redemption is achieved at the moment of death. Those who face death with dignity and courage live an authentic life. Francis Macomber dies happy because the last hours of his life are authentic; the bullfighter in the corrida represents the pinnacle of a life lived with authenticity. Stoltzfus considers Hemingway's work to be more complex with a representation of the truth inherent in existentialism: if "nothingness" is embraced, then redemption is achieved at the moment of death. Those who face death with dignity and courage live an authentic life. Francis Macomber dies happy because the last hours of his life are authentic; the bullfighter in the corrida represents the pinnacle of a life lived with authenticity.

20. Hemingway's legacy to American literature is his style: writers who came after him emulated it or avoided it.[185] After his reputation was sealed with the publication of The Sun Also Rises, he became the spokesperson for the post – World War I generation, having established a style to follow. His books were burned in Berlin in 1933, "as being a monument of modern decadence", and disavowed by his parents as "filth". Reynolds asserts the legacy is that "he left stories and novels so starkly moving that some have become part of our cultural heritage." Hemingway's legacy to American literature is his style: writers who came after him emulated it or avoided it.[185] After his reputation was sealed with the publication of The Sun Also Rises, he became the spokesperson for the post – World War I generation, having established a style to follow. His books were burned in Berlin in 1933, "as being a monument of modern decadence", and disavowed by his parents as "filth". Reynolds asserts the legacy is that "he left stories and novels so starkly moving that some have become part of our cultural heritage."

21. Code hero and The Old Man and the Sea A code hero is defined as a man ’ s man. Contrary to the stereotypical hero, he lives a normal life. He is courageous and honorable, and while he is the center of many women ’ s attention, he merely sees women as objects of lust and pleasure. He lives life the right way and will not comply with evil. Finally, a code hero will face death bravely, but once he does so, he must do it again and again, constantly proving himself. He is not afraid of death, but knows life after death is nonexistent. Hemingway made the code hero famous by including it in most of his major novels and short stories. Hemingway shows this hero through characterization and plot. A code hero is defined as a man ’ s man. Contrary to the stereotypical hero, he lives a normal life. He is courageous and honorable, and while he is the center of many women ’ s attention, he merely sees women as objects of lust and pleasure. He lives life the right way and will not comply with evil. Finally, a code hero will face death bravely, but once he does so, he must do it again and again, constantly proving himself. He is not afraid of death, but knows life after death is nonexistent. Hemingway made the code hero famous by including it in most of his major novels and short stories. Hemingway shows this hero through characterization and plot.

22. His work is well know around the world for its interesting composition by how he ties his personality and morals into his characters, which follow the beliefs, also know as "the code", that he lives by. Hemingway uses his code hero, who is named in most of his novels as Nick Adams to teach readers a creative and disciplined way of life. His code hero measures himself by how well he handles the sometimes vehement situations that life throws at him. He defined the code hero as "a man who lives correctly, following the ideals of honor, courage, and endurance in a world that is sometimes chaotic, often stressful, and always painful ”. His work is well know around the world for its interesting composition by how he ties his personality and morals into his characters, which follow the beliefs, also know as "the code", that he lives by. Hemingway uses his code hero, who is named in most of his novels as Nick Adams to teach readers a creative and disciplined way of life. His code hero measures himself by how well he handles the sometimes vehement situations that life throws at him. He defined the code hero as "a man who lives correctly, following the ideals of honor, courage, and endurance in a world that is sometimes chaotic, often stressful, and always painful ”.

23. The Hemingway “ code ” consists of standards and forms of conduct by which a man can confront the realities of nada (of chance, accident, destruction, and death) with dignity, and thus by which he can impose a measure of purpose, order, meaning, and value upon his life. The concept of “ dignity ” is both the basis and the goal of the code. For Hemingway, dignity is the expression of true moral integrity, and it is the highest possible attainment of character. Basically, dignity is self- control in the face of nada, destruction and death ( “ Grace under Pressure ” ). Such self-control is a visible expression of the self-discipline, knowledge, skill, and poise a man must achieve — as well as the honesty, courage, persistence, and stoic endurance he must possess in order to confront the vicissitudes of his life and the inevitability of his death on his own terms and with honor. The Hemingway “ code ” consists of standards and forms of conduct by which a man can confront the realities of nada (of chance, accident, destruction, and death) with dignity, and thus by which he can impose a measure of purpose, order, meaning, and value upon his life. The concept of “ dignity ” is both the basis and the goal of the code. For Hemingway, dignity is the expression of true moral integrity, and it is the highest possible attainment of character. Basically, dignity is self- control in the face of nada, destruction and death ( “ Grace under Pressure ” ). Such self-control is a visible expression of the self-discipline, knowledge, skill, and poise a man must achieve — as well as the honesty, courage, persistence, and stoic endurance he must possess in order to confront the vicissitudes of his life and the inevitability of his death on his own terms and with honor.

24. In The Old Man and the Sea, Santiago is the code hero. Hemingway ’ s characterization of him reveals this nature. When Santiago was out at sea on his skiff, he was longing for company. He thought to himself, “ No one should be alone in their old age ” (48). Following the trait of a code hero, Santiago thinks this because as he ages, he knows he is getting closer to death every day. When he is alone, this is what he thinks about, so he wants his loved ones to be by him to keep his mind off death and focus on living. In The Old Man and the Sea, Santiago is the code hero. Hemingway ’ s characterization of him reveals this nature. When Santiago was out at sea on his skiff, he was longing for company. He thought to himself, “ No one should be alone in their old age ” (48). Following the trait of a code hero, Santiago thinks this because as he ages, he knows he is getting closer to death every day. When he is alone, this is what he thinks about, so he wants his loved ones to be by him to keep his mind off death and focus on living.

25. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy's parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy's parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat.

26. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.

28. The Great Gatsby In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I ’ ve been turning over in my mind ever since. In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I ’ ve been turning over in my mind ever since. “ Whenever you feel like criticizing any one, ” he told me, “ just remember that all the people in this world haven ’ t had the advantages that you ’ ve had. ” “ Whenever you feel like criticizing any one, ” he told me, “ just remember that all the people in this world haven ’ t had the advantages that you ’ ve had. ”

29. He didn ’ t say any more, but we ’ ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I ’ m inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought — frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth. He didn ’ t say any more, but we ’ ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I ’ m inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought — frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.

30. And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don ’ t care what it ’ s founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction — Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don ’ t care what it ’ s founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction — Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn.

31. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “ creative temperament. ”— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. No — Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “ creative temperament. ”— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. No — Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

32. I lived at West Egg, the — well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard — it was a factual imitation of some Hotel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. it was Gatsby ’ s mansion. Or, rather, as I didn ’ t know Mr. Gatsby, it was a mansion inhabited by a gentleman of that name. My own house was an eyesore, but it was a small eyesore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor ’ s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires — all for eighty dollars a month. I lived at West Egg, the — well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard — it was a factual imitation of some Hotel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. it was Gatsby ’ s mansion. Or, rather, as I didn ’ t know Mr. Gatsby, it was a mansion inhabited by a gentleman of that name. My own house was an eyesore, but it was a small eyesore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor ’ s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires — all for eighty dollars a month.

33. Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed, and I ’ d known Tom in college. And just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago. Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed, and I ’ d known Tom in college. And just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago.

34. Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven — a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-climax. His family were enormously wealthy — even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach — but now he ’ d left Chicago and come East in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance, he ’ d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest. it was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that. Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven — a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-climax. His family were enormously wealthy — even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach — but now he ’ d left Chicago and come East in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance, he ’ d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest. it was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that.

35. He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy straw-haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body — he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing, and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage — a cruel body. He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy straw-haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body — he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing, and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage — a cruel body.

36. Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside garages, where new red gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the moonlight, and turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone — fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbor ’ s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was his of our local heavens. Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside garages, where new red gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the moonlight, and turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone — fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbor ’ s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was his of our local heavens.

37. About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes — a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight. About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes — a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.

38. But above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic — their irises are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness, or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days, under sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground. But above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic — their irises are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness, or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days, under sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground.

39. It was Gatsby ’ s father, a solemn old man, very helpless and dismayed, bundled up in a long cheap ulster against the warm September day. His eyes leaked continuously with excitement, and when I took the bag and umbrella from his hands he began to pull so incessantly at his sparse gray beard that I had difficulty in getting off his coat. He was on the point of collapse, so I took him into the music room and made him sit down while I sent for something to eat. But he wouldn ’ t eat, and the glass of milk spilled from his trembling hand. It was Gatsby ’ s father, a solemn old man, very helpless and dismayed, bundled up in a long cheap ulster against the warm September day. His eyes leaked continuously with excitement, and when I took the bag and umbrella from his hands he began to pull so incessantly at his sparse gray beard that I had difficulty in getting off his coat. He was on the point of collapse, so I took him into the music room and made him sit down while I sent for something to eat. But he wouldn ’ t eat, and the glass of milk spilled from his trembling hand.

40. “ I didn ’ t know what you ’ d want, Mr. Gatsby ——” “ I didn ’ t know what you ’ d want, Mr. Gatsby ——” “ Gatz is my name. ” “ Gatz is my name. ” “— Mr. Gatz. I thought you might want to take the body West. ” “— Mr. Gatz. I thought you might want to take the body West. ” He shook his head. He shook his head. “ Jimmy always liked it better down East. He rose up to his position in the East. Were you a friend of my boy ’ s, Mr. — ? ” “ Jimmy always liked it better down East. He rose up to his position in the East. Were you a friend of my boy ’ s, Mr. — ? ” “ We were close friends. ” “ We were close friends. ” “ He had a big future before him, you know. He was only a young man, but he had a lot of brain power here. ” “ He had a big future before him, you know. He was only a young man, but he had a lot of brain power here. ” He touched his head impressively, and I nodded. He touched his head impressively, and I nodded. “ If he ’ d of lived, he ’ d of been a great man. A man like James J. Hill. He ’ d of helped build up the country. ” “ If he ’ d of lived, he ’ d of been a great man. A man like James J. Hill. He ’ d of helped build up the country. ” “ That ’ s true, ” I said, uncomfortably. “ That ’ s true, ” I said, uncomfortably.

41. He opened it at the back cover and turned it around for me to see. On the last fly-leaf was printed the word SCHEDULE, and the date September 12, 1906. and underneath: He opened it at the back cover and turned it around for me to see. On the last fly-leaf was printed the word SCHEDULE, and the date September 12, 1906. and underneath: Rise from bed................ 6.00 A.M. Dumbbell exercise and wall-scaling.. 6.15- 6.30 ” Rise from bed................ 6.00 A.M. Dumbbell exercise and wall-scaling.. 6.15- 6.30 ” Study electricity, etc.......... 7.15-8.15 ” Work..................... 8.30-4.30 P.M. Baseball and sports....... 4.30-5.00 ” Practice elocution, poise and how to attain it 5.00-6.00 ” Study electricity, etc.......... 7.15-8.15 ” Work..................... 8.30-4.30 P.M. Baseball and sports....... 4.30-5.00 ” Practice elocution, poise and how to attain it 5.00-6.00 ” Study needed inventions....... 7.00-9.00 ” Study needed inventions....... 7.00-9.00 ”

42. One afternoon late in October I saw Tom Buchanan. He was walking ahead of me along Fifth Avenue in his alert, aggressive way, his hands out a little from his body as if to fight off interference, his head moving sharply here and there, adapting itself to his restless eyes. Just as I slowed up to avoid overtaking him he stopped and began frowning into the windows of a jewelry store. Suddenly he saw me and walked back, holding out his hand. One afternoon late in October I saw Tom Buchanan. He was walking ahead of me along Fifth Avenue in his alert, aggressive way, his hands out a little from his body as if to fight off interference, his head moving sharply here and there, adapting itself to his restless eyes. Just as I slowed up to avoid overtaking him he stopped and began frowning into the windows of a jewelry store. Suddenly he saw me and walked back, holding out his hand. “ What ’ s the matter, Nick? Do you object to shaking hands with me? ” “ What ’ s the matter, Nick? Do you object to shaking hands with me? ” “ Yes. You know what I think of you. ” “ Yes. You know what I think of you. ” “ You ’ re crazy, Nick, ” he said quickly. “ Crazy as hell. I don ’ t know what ’ s the matter with you. ” “ You ’ re crazy, Nick, ” he said quickly. “ Crazy as hell. I don ’ t know what ’ s the matter with you. ”

43. “ Tom, ” I inquired, “ what did you say to Wilson that afternoon? ” He stared at me without a word, and I knew I had guessed right about those missing hours. I started to turn away, but he took a step after me and grabbed my arm. “ Tom, ” I inquired, “ what did you say to Wilson that afternoon? ” He stared at me without a word, and I knew I had guessed right about those missing hours. I started to turn away, but he took a step after me and grabbed my arm. “ I told him the truth, ” he said. “ He came to the door while we were getting ready to leave, and when I sent down word that we weren ’ t in he tried to force his way up-stairs. He was crazy enough to kill me if I hadn ’ t told him who owned the car. His hand was on a revolver in his pocket every minute he was in the house ——” He broke off defiantly. “ What if I did tell him? That fellow had it coming to him. He threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy ’ s, but he was a tough one. He ran over Myrtle like you ’ d run over a dog and never even stopped his car. ” “ I told him the truth, ” he said. “ He came to the door while we were getting ready to leave, and when I sent down word that we weren ’ t in he tried to force his way up-stairs. He was crazy enough to kill me if I hadn ’ t told him who owned the car. His hand was on a revolver in his pocket every minute he was in the house ——” He broke off defiantly. “ What if I did tell him? That fellow had it coming to him. He threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy ’ s, but he was a tough one. He ran over Myrtle like you ’ d run over a dog and never even stopped his car. ”

44. I couldn ’ t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy — they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.... I couldn ’ t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy — they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made....

45. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby ’ s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy ’ s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby ’ s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy ’ s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

46. Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that ’ s no matter — to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning — — Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that ’ s no matter — to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning — — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

47. The collapse of the American dream The idea of the American Dream is based on the fantasy that an individual can achieve success regardless of family history, race, and/or religion simply by working hard. The 1920's were a time of corruption and degradation of moral values in society. World War One was over and people were reveling in the materialism that came at the end of it, such as newly mass-produced commodities like motorcars and radios. The novel, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, is an exploration of the American Dream, as it existed during a corrupt period in history. The Great Gatsby is a description of the decay of the American Dream and the desire for money and materialism. Fitzgerald accomplishes this through the use of symbols such as the Valley of Ashes, the Green Light, Gatsby ’ s house, and the Eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg. The idea of the American Dream is based on the fantasy that an individual can achieve success regardless of family history, race, and/or religion simply by working hard. The 1920's were a time of corruption and degradation of moral values in society. World War One was over and people were reveling in the materialism that came at the end of it, such as newly mass-produced commodities like motorcars and radios. The novel, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, is an exploration of the American Dream, as it existed during a corrupt period in history. The Great Gatsby is a description of the decay of the American Dream and the desire for money and materialism. Fitzgerald accomplishes this through the use of symbols such as the Valley of Ashes, the Green Light, Gatsby ’ s house, and the Eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg.