The Great Gatsby

NC

Nick Carraway

Main
Synthesis
A young man from a prominent Middle Western family, a Yale graduate and World War I veteran. He is tolerant, reserved, and somewhat introspective. He has a habit of reserving judgments. He is not described in great physical detail, but he is often seen in white flannels or business attire. He is thirty years old at the end of the novel.

Jay Gatsby

Age portraits
Portrait: Jay Gatsby — Age 17
Age 17
Portrait: Jay Gatsby — Age 18 (approximately)
Age 18 (approximately)
Portrait: Jay Gatsby — Age 27 (approximately)
Age 27 (approximately)
Main
Synthesis
An elegant young roughneck, a year or two over thirty, with tanned skin drawn attractively tight on his face and short hair that looks as though it were trimmed every day. He has a rare smile with a quality of eternal reassurance. He is never quite still; there is always a tapping foot or impatient opening and closing of a hand. He wears elaborate formality of speech. He has a caramel-coloured suit, a white flannel suit with silver shirt and gold tie, and a pink suit. He is often pale with dark signs of sleeplessness beneath his eyes. He has a brown, hardening body from his youth.
He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.
I was looking at an elegant young roughneck, a year or two over thirty, whose elaborate formality of speech just missed being absurd.
His tanned skin was drawn attractively tight on his face and his short hair looked as though it were trimmed every day.
He was never quite still; there was always a tapping foot somewhere or the impatient opening and closing of a hand.
Gatsby, in a white flannel suit, silver shirt, and gold-coloured tie, hurried in. He was pale, and there were dark signs of sleeplessness beneath his eyes.
Gatsby, pale as death, with his hands plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water glaring tragically into my eyes.
His gorgeous pink rag of a suit made a bright spot of colour against the white steps.
His brown, hardening body lived naturally through the half-fierce, half-lazy work of the bracing days.
the tanned skin was drawn unusually tight on his face, and his eyes were bright and tired.
the luminosity of his pink suit under the moon
Portrait: Daisy Buchanan

Daisy Buchanan

Main
Synthesis
A young woman with a sad and lovely face, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth. She has a low, thrilling voice that is full of money. She dresses in white, and has a little white roadster. She has a glowing face, and her hair is dark. She wears a three-cornered lavender hat. She is slim and graceful. She has a lovely shape to her face.
Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth.
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 voice is full of money.
She dressed in white, and had a little white roadster.
Daisy's face, tipped sideways beneath a three-cornered lavender hat, looked out at me with a bright ecstatic smile.
A damp streak of hair lay like a dash of blue paint across her cheek.
Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape.
Her face was smeared with tears.
the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face
Daisy's face was smeared with tears
two rows of brass buttons on her dress gleamed in the sunlight
the grey haze of Daisy's fur collar
Portrait: Tom Buchanan

Tom Buchanan

Secondary
Synthesis
A sturdy straw-haired man of thirty, with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes dominate his face, giving him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. He has an enormous powerful body, a cruel body, with a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moves. He has a gruff husky tenor voice. He is often in riding clothes. He has a broad flat hand.
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.
His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed.
Portrait: Jordan Baker

Jordan Baker

Secondary
Synthesis
A slender, small-breasted girl with an erect carriage, which she accentuates by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet. She has grey sun-strained eyes and a wan, charming, discontented face. She has autumn-leaf yellow hair. She has a brown hand. She often wears white dresses, and her evening dresses are like sports clothes. She has a jaunty movement. She has a bored haughty face. Her hair is the colour of an autumn leaf, her face the same brown tint as a fingerless glove.
She was a slender, small-breasted girl, with an erect carriage, which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet.
Her grey sun-strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, discontented face.
The lamplight, bright on his boots and dull on the autumn-leaf yellow of her hair.
With Jordan's slender golden arm resting in mine.
I noticed that she wore her evening-dress, all her dresses, like sports clothes—there was a jauntiness about her movements as if she had first learned to walk upon golf courses on clean, crisp mornings.
The bored haughty face that she turned to the world concealed something.
She was dressed to play golf, and I remember thinking she looked like a good illustration, her chin raised a little jauntily, her hair the colour of an autumn leaf, her face the same brown tint as the fingerless glove on her knee.
MW

Myrtle Wilson

Secondary
Synthesis
A woman in her middle thirties, faintly stout, but carries her flesh sensuously. Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crêpe-de-chine, contains no facet or gleam of beauty, but there is an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body are continually smouldering. She has a soft, coarse voice. She has thickish figure. She wears a brown figured muslin dress that stretches tight over her rather wide hips. Later she wears an elaborate afternoon dress of cream-coloured chiffon. She has a strand of hair over her eyes. She has thick dark blood.
She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her flesh sensuously as some women can.
Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crêpe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty, but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering.
She smiled slowly and, walking through her husband as if he were a ghost, shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye.
Then she wet her lips, and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice.
Mrs. Wilson had changed her costume some time before, and was now attired in an elaborate afternoon dress of cream-coloured chiffon, which gave out a continual rustle as she swept about the room.
GB

George B. Wilson

Secondary
Synthesis
A blond, spiritless man, anaemic, and faintly handsome. He has light blue eyes. He is pale, with pale hair. He is sickly, with a green face in sunlight. He is worn-out, and his eyes are glazed. He has a faded look.
He was a blond, spiritless man, anaemic, and faintly handsome.
When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes.
In the sunlight his face was green.
Wilson, pale as his own pale hair and shaking all over.
MW

Meyer Wolfshiem

Secondary
Synthesis
A small, flat-nosed Jew with a large head and two fine growths of hair which luxuriate in either nostril. He has tiny eyes. He has an expressive nose. He is about fifty years old. He has a tragic nose that trembles. He has bulbous fingers.
A small, flat-nosed Jew raised his large head and regarded me with two fine growths of hair which luxuriated in either nostril.
After a moment I discovered his tiny eyes in the half-darkness.
He flipped his sleeves up under his coat.
As for me, I am fifty years old.
As he shook hands and turned away his tragic nose was trembling.
C

Catherine

Episodic
Synthesis
A slender, worldly girl of about thirty, with a solid, sticky bob of red hair, and a complexion powdered milky white. Her eyebrows have been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle, giving a blurred air to her face. She wears innumerable pottery bracelets that click incessantly.
The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty, with a solid, sticky bob of red hair, and a complexion powdered milky white.
Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle, but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face.
MM

Mr. McKee

Episodic
Synthesis
A pale, feminine man. He has just shaved, with a white spot of lather on his cheekbone. He is respectful. He is a photographer.
Mr. McKee was a pale, feminine man from the flat below. He had just shaved, for there was a white spot of lather on his cheekbone.
MM

Mrs. McKee

Episodic
Synthesis
Shrill, languid, handsome, and horrible.
His wife was shrill, languid, handsome, and horrible.
OE

Owl Eyes

Episodic
Synthesis
A stout, middle-aged man with enormous owl-eyed spectacles. He is somewhat drunk. He has a pleasant, puzzled way. He wears a long duster.
A stout, middle-aged man, with enormous owl-eyed spectacles, was sitting somewhat drunk on the edge of a great table.
A man in a long duster had dismounted from the wreck and now stood in the middle of the road, looking from the car to the tyre and from the tyre to the observers in a pleasant, puzzled way.
K

Klipspringer

Episodic
Synthesis
An embarrassed, slightly worn young man, with shell-rimmed glasses and scanty blond hair. He is decently clothed in a sport shirt, open at the neck, sneakers, and duck trousers of a nebulous hue.
He returned in a few minutes accompanied by an embarrassed, slightly worn young man, with shell-rimmed glasses and scanty blond hair. He was now decently clothed in a 'sport shirt,' open at the neck, sneakers, and duck trousers of a nebulous hue.
DC

Dan Cody

Episodic
Synthesis
A grey, florid man with a hard, empty face. He is fifty years old, a product of the Nevada silver fields. He is physically robust but on the verge of soft-mindedness. In a photograph, he is in yachting costume.
I remember the portrait of him up in Gatsby's bedroom, a grey, florid man with a hard, empty face—the pioneer debauchee.
Cody was fifty years old then, a product of the Nevada silver fields, of the Yukon, of every rush for metal since seventy-five.
HC

Henry C. Gatz

Episodic
Synthesis
A solemn old man, very helpless and dismayed, bundled up in a long cheap ulster. His eyes leak continuously with excitement. He has a sparse grey beard. He is trembling. He has a flushed face.
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 grey beard that I had difficulty in getting off his coat.
M

Michaelis

Episodic
Synthesis
A young Greek who runs the coffee joint beside the ash-heaps. He is a neighbour of Wilson's.
PB

Pammy Buchanan

Episodic
Synthesis
A little girl, three years old, with yellowy hair. She has her mother's hair and shape of the face.
The child, relinquished by the nurse, rushed across the room and rooted shyly into her mother's dress.
She's got my hair and shape of the face.
EK

Ella Kaye

Episodic
Synthesis
A newspaper woman. She played Madame de Maintenon to Cody's weakness.
DT

Doctor T. J. Eckleburg

Episodic
Synthesis
A pair of blue and gigantic eyes—their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles over a nonexistent nose. The eyes are dimmed a little by many paintless days.
The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas 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.
But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days, under sun and rain, brood on over the solemn dumping ground.
L

Lucille

Episodic
Synthesis
A girl at Gatsby's party. She tore her gown on a chair. She is one of the girls in yellow.
CB

Chester Beckers

Episodic
Appearance not described
L

Leeches

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Bunsen

Episodic
Appearance not described
DW

Doctor Webster Civet

Episodic
Appearance not described
H

Hornbeams

Episodic
Appearance not described
WV

Willie Voltaires

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Blackbuck

Episodic
Appearance not described
I

Ismays

Episodic
Appearance not described
C

Chrysties

Episodic
Appearance not described
EB

Edgar Beaver

Episodic
Appearance not described
CE

Clarence Endive

Episodic
Appearance not described
E

Etty

Episodic
Appearance not described
C

Cheadles

Episodic
Appearance not described
OR

O. R. P. Schraeders

Episodic
Appearance not described
SJ

Stonewall Jackson Abrams

Episodic
Appearance not described
F

Fishguards

Episodic
Appearance not described
RS

Ripley Snells

Episodic
Appearance not described
MU

Mrs. Ulysses Swett

Episodic
Appearance not described
D

Dancies

Episodic
Appearance not described
SB

S. B. Whitebait

Episodic
Appearance not described
MA

Maurice A. Flink

Episodic
Appearance not described
H

Hammerheads

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Beluga

Episodic
Appearance not described
P

Poles

Episodic
Appearance not described
M

Mulreadys

Episodic
Appearance not described
CR

Cecil Roebuck

Episodic
Appearance not described
CS

Cecil Schoen

Episodic
Appearance not described
G

Gulick

Episodic
Appearance not described
NO

Newton Orchid

Episodic
Appearance not described
E

Eckhaust

Episodic
Appearance not described
CC

Clyde Cohen

Episodic
Appearance not described
DS

Don S. Schwartz

Episodic
Appearance not described
AM

Arthur McCarty

Episodic
Appearance not described
C

Catlips

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Bembergs

Episodic
Appearance not described
GE

G. Earl Muldoon

Episodic
Appearance not described
DF

Da Fontano

Episodic
Appearance not described
EL

Ed Legros

Episodic
Appearance not described
JB

James B. Ferret

Episodic
Appearance not described
DJ

De Jongs

Episodic
Appearance not described
EL

Ernest Lilly

Episodic
Appearance not described
GW

Gus Waize

Episodic
Appearance not described
HO

Horace O'Donavan

Episodic
Appearance not described
LM

Lester Myer

Episodic
Appearance not described
GD

George Duckweed

Episodic
Appearance not described
FB

Francis Bull

Episodic
Appearance not described
C

Chromes

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Backhyssons

Episodic
Appearance not described
D

Dennickers

Episodic
Appearance not described
RB

Russel Betty

Episodic
Appearance not described
C

Corrigans

Episodic
Appearance not described
K

Kellehers

Episodic
Appearance not described
D

Dewars

Episodic
Appearance not described
S

Scullys

Episodic
Appearance not described
SW

S. W. Belcher

Episodic
Appearance not described
S

Smirkes

Episodic
Appearance not described
Q

Quinns

Episodic
Appearance not described
HL

Henry L. Palmetto

Episodic
Appearance not described
BM

Benny McClenahan

Episodic
Appearance not described
FO

Faustina O'Brien

Episodic
Appearance not described
BG

Baedeker girls

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Brewer

Episodic
Appearance not described
A

Albrucksburger

Episodic
Appearance not described
MH

Miss Haag

Episodic
Appearance not described
AF

Ardita Fitz-Peters

Episodic
Appearance not described
PJ

P. Jewett

Episodic
Appearance not described
CH

Claudia Hip

Episodic
Appearance not described
D

Duke

Episodic
Appearance not described
S

Slagle

Episodic
Appearance not described
WC

Walter Chase

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Biloxi

Episodic
Appearance not described
AB

Asa Bird

Episodic
Appearance not described
F

Ferdie

Episodic
Appearance not described
MS

Mrs. Sigourney Howard

Episodic
Appearance not described
S

Stella

Episodic
Synthesis
A lovely Jewess with black hostile eyes.
Presently a lovely Jewess appeared at an interior door and scrutinized me with black hostile eyes.
E

Edgar

Episodic
Appearance not described
MC

Mrs. Claud Roosevelt

Episodic
Appearance not described
GG

Gilda Gray

Episodic
Appearance not described
VT

Vladmir Tostoff

Episodic
Appearance not described
RR

Rosy Rosenthal

Episodic
Appearance not described
B

Becker

Episodic
Appearance not described
K

Katspaugh

Episodic
Appearance not described
MS

Mr. Sloane

Episodic
Appearance not described
MB

Miss Baedeker

Episodic
Appearance not described
DC

Doc Civet

Episodic
Appearance not described
TM

The moving-picture director

Episodic
Appearance not described
HS

His Star

Episodic
Synthesis
A gorgeous, scarcely human orchid of a woman who sat in state under a white-plum tree.
Gatsby indicated a gorgeous, scarcely human orchid of a woman who sat in state under a white-plum tree.
TF

The Finnish woman

Episodic
Synthesis
A Finnish woman who made Nick's bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.
TB

The butler

Episodic
Appearance not described
TC

The chauffeur

Episodic
Appearance not described
TG

The gardener

Episodic
Appearance not described
TP

The postman

Episodic
Appearance not described
TL

The Lutheran minister

Episodic
Appearance not described
TP

The policeman

Episodic
Appearance not described
TE

The elevator boy

Episodic
Appearance not described
TG

The grey old man (dog seller)

Episodic
Synthesis
A grey old man who bore an absurd resemblance to John D. Rockefeller.
We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd resemblance to John D. Rockefeller.
TP

The pale well-dressed negro

Episodic
Synthesis
A pale well-dressed negro.
A pale well-dressed negro stepped near.
TG

The girl from Jersey City

Episodic
Appearance not described
TG

The girl who played tennis (back home)

Episodic
Synthesis
A faint moustache of perspiration appeared on her upper lip when she played tennis.
All I could think of was how, when that certain girl played tennis, a faint moustache of perspiration appeared on her upper lip.
TY

The young reporter

Episodic
Appearance not described
TP

The persistent undergraduate

Episodic
Appearance not described
TT

The two girls in yellow

Episodic
Appearance not described
TC

The celebrated tenor

Episodic
Appearance not described
TN

The notorious contralto

Episodic
Appearance not described
TS

The stage twins

Episodic
Appearance not described
TT

The tall, red-haired young lady from a famous chorus

Episodic
Synthesis
A tall, red-haired young lady from a famous chorus. She had drunk a quantity of champagne, and her heavily beaded eyelashes caused tears to run in black rivulets.
Beside her stood a tall, red-haired young lady from a famous chorus, engaged in song. ... The tears coursed down her cheeks—not freely, however, for when they came into contact with her heavily beaded eyelashes they assumed an inky colour, and pursued the rest of their way in slow black rivulets.
TR

The rowdy little girl

Episodic
Appearance not described
TM

The massive and lethargic woman

Episodic
Synthesis
A massive and lethargic woman.
A massive and lethargic woman, who had been urging Daisy to play golf with her at the local club tomorrow, spoke in Miss Baedeker's defence.
TP

The pretty woman in a brown riding-habit

Episodic
Synthesis
A pretty woman in a brown riding-habit.
They were a party of three on horseback—Tom and a man named Sloane and a pretty woman in a brown riding-habit.
TN

The nurse

Episodic
Synthesis
A freshly laundered nurse.
Just as a freshly laundered nurse leading a little girl came into the room.
TG

The grocer's boy

Episodic
Appearance not described
TT

The taxi driver

Episodic
Appearance not described
TC

The conductor

Episodic
Appearance not described
TW

The woman on the train

Episodic
Synthesis
A woman who perspired delicately into her white shirtwaist.
The woman next to me perspired delicately for a while into her white shirtwaist.
TH

The head waiter

Episodic
Appearance not described
TC

The clerk at the Plaza

Episodic
Appearance not described
TA

The ambulance driver

Episodic
Appearance not described
TD

The doctor

Episodic
Appearance not described
TC

The coroner

Episodic
Appearance not described
TD

The detective

Episodic
Appearance not described
TP

The photographer

Episodic
Appearance not described
TN

The newspaper men

Episodic
Appearance not described
TL

The little boys

Episodic
Appearance not described
TI

The Italian child

Episodic
Synthesis
A grey, scrawny Italian child setting torpedoes along the railroad track.
It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was setting torpedoes in a row along the railroad track.
TT

The three modish negroes

Episodic
Synthesis
Two bucks and a girl, with yolks of their eyeballs rolling.
As we crossed Blackwell's Island a limousine passed us, driven by a white chauffeur, in which sat three modish negroes, two bucks and a girl. I laughed aloud as the yolks of their eyeballs rolled toward us in haughty rivalry.
TD

The dead man in the hearse

Episodic
Appearance not described
TF

The friends in the carriages

Episodic
Synthesis
They had tragic eyes and short upper lips of southeastern Europe.
The friends looked out at us with the tragic eyes and short upper lips of southeastern Europe.
TM

The man who had his nose shot off (young Brewer)

Episodic
Appearance not described
TM

The man reputed to be Miss Claudia Hip's chauffeur

Episodic
Appearance not described
TG

The girl who lived in Jersey City

Episodic
Appearance not described
TG

The girl's brother

Episodic
Appearance not described
TM

The man who said 'Blessed are the dead'

Episodic
Appearance not described
TB

The boy who scrawled the obscene word

Episodic
Appearance not described
Location: West Egg

West Egg

Synthesis
One of two egg-shaped land formations on Long Island Sound, east of New York. It is the less fashionable of the two, with a bizarre and sinister contrast to East Egg. The narrator's house is at the very tip, a weather-beaten cardboard bungalow squeezed between two huge mansions. Gatsby's mansion is a colossal imitation of a Normandy Hôtel de Ville with a tower, marble swimming pool, and over forty acres of lawn and garden. The area has a raw vigour, a sense of being a place Broadway begot upon a fishing village.
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 Hôtel 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.
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 neighbour's lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dollars a month.
It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York—and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land.
Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound.
She was appalled by West Egg, this unprecedented 'place' that Broadway had begotten upon a Long Island fishing village—appalled by its raw vigour that chafed under the old euphemisms and by the too obtrusive fate that herded its inhabitants along a shortcut from nothing to nothing.
West Egg, especially, still figures in my more fantastic dreams. I see it as a night scene by El Greco: a hundred houses, at once conventional and grotesque, crouching under a sullen, overhanging sky and a lustreless moon.
Gatsby's house was still empty when I left—the grass on his lawn had grown as long as mine.
On the white steps an obscene word, scrawled by some boy with a piece of brick, stood out clearly in the moonlight, and I erased it, drawing my shoe raspingly along the stone.
Location: East Egg

East Egg

Synthesis
The more fashionable of the two egg-shaped land formations, across the bay from West Egg. It features white palaces that glitter along the water. The Buchanans' house is a cheerful red-and-white Georgian Colonial mansion overlooking the bay, with a lawn that starts at the beach and runs a quarter of a mile to the front door, jumping over sundials and brick walks and burning gardens.
Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water.
Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red-and-white Georgian Colonial mansion, overlooking the bay.
The lawn started at the beach and ran towards the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sundials and brick walks and burning gardens—finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run.
The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold and wide open to the warm windy afternoon.
Through the hall of the Buchanans' house blew a faint wind, carrying the sound of the telephone bell out to Gatsby and me as we waited at the door.
Location: Valley of Ashes

Valley of Ashes

Synthesis
A desolate area of land between West Egg and New York, where ashes grow like wheat into ridges, hills, and grotesque gardens. Ashes take the forms of houses, chimneys, and ash-grey men. It is bounded by a small foul river. Above it loom the giant blue eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg from a pair of yellow spectacles on a billboard. The only building is a small block of yellow brick containing a garage (George B. Wilson's) and an all-night restaurant.
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 ash-grey men, who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air.
Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
But above the grey 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 retinas 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.
The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and, when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour.
The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Street ministering to it, and contiguous to absolutely nothing.
One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night restaurant, approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs. George B. Wilson. Cars bought and sold.
Over the ash-heaps the giant eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg kept their vigil.
Wilson's glazed eyes turned out to the ash-heaps, where small grey clouds took on fantastic shapes and scurried here and there in the faint dawn wind.
NE

New York City

Synthesis
The city is described as having white chasms of lower New York, with dark crowded restaurants, the Yale Club, and the Pennsylvania Station. Fifth Avenue is warm and soft, almost pastoral on summer Sundays. The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always seen for the first time, in its first wild promise. There are areas like the West Hundreds where apartment houses stand like a long white cake. The Plaza Hotel is a location for a tense confrontation.
In the early morning the sun threw my shadow westward as I hurried down the white chasms of lower New York to the Probity Trust.
I began to like New York, the racy, adventurous feel of it at night, and the satisfaction that the constant flicker of men and women and machines gives to the restless eye.
I liked to walk up Fifth Avenue and pick out romantic women from the crowd.
Over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of nonolfactory money.
The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world.
At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment-houses.
The room was large and stifling, and, though it was already four o'clock, opening the windows admitted only a gust of hot shrubbery from the Park.
Roaring noon. In a well-fanned Forty-second Street cellar I met Gatsby for lunch.
GA

Gatsby's Mansion

Synthesis
A colossal imitation of a Normandy Hôtel de Ville with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It has blue gardens, a marble swimming pool, a hydroplane, and a beach. Inside, there are high Gothic libraries panelled with carved English oak, Marie Antoinette music-rooms, Restoration Salons, period bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender silk, dressing-rooms, poolrooms, bathrooms with sunken baths, and an Adam's study. The house is lit from tower to cellar during parties.
The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel 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.
In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.
On weekends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus, bearing parties to and from the city between nine in the morning and long past midnight, while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to meet all trains.
At least once a fortnight a corps of caterers came down with several hundred feet of canvas and enough coloured lights to make a Christmas tree of Gatsby's enormous garden.
On buffet tables, garnished with glistening hors-d'oeuvre, spiced baked hams crowded against salads of harlequin designs and pastry pigs and turkeys bewitched to a dark gold.
In the main hall a bar with a real brass rail was set up, and stocked with gins and liquors and with cordials so long forgotten that most of his female guests were too young to know one from another.
We walked into a high Gothic library, panelled with carved English oak, and probably transported complete from some ruin overseas.
And inside, as we wandered through Marie Antoinette music-rooms and Restoration Salons, I felt that there were guests concealed behind every couch and table, under orders to be breathlessly silent until we had passed through.
We went upstairs, through period bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender silk and vivid with new flowers, through dressing-rooms and poolrooms, and bathrooms with sunken baths.
Finally we came to Gatsby's own apartment, a bedroom and a bath, and an Adam's study, where we sat down and drank a glass of some Chartreuse he took from a cupboard in the wall.
His bedroom was the simplest room of all—except where the dresser was garnished with a toilet set of pure dull gold.
At two o'clock and the whole corner of the peninsula was blazing with light, which fell unreal on the shrubbery and made thin elongating glints upon the roadside wires.
BU

Buchanan's Mansion (East Egg)

Synthesis
A cheerful red-and-white Georgian Colonial mansion overlooking the bay. The lawn starts at the beach and runs a quarter of a mile to the front door, jumping over sundials and brick walks and burning gardens. The front has a line of French windows. Inside, a high hallway leads into a bright rosy-coloured space with French windows at either end, an enormous couch, and a wine-coloured rug. There is a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of roses, and a snub-nosed motorboat.
Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red-and-white Georgian Colonial mansion, overlooking the bay.
The lawn started at the beach and ran towards the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sundials and brick walks and burning gardens—finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run.
The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold and wide open to the warm windy afternoon.
We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-coloured space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end.
The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon.
a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep, pungent roses, and a snub-nosed motorboat that bumped the tide offshore.
WI

Wilson's Garage

Synthesis
A small block of yellow brick on the edge of the valley of ashes, containing a garage for repairs. The interior is unprosperous and bare, with only a dust-covered wreck of a Ford in a dim corner. There is an office and stairs leading to living quarters above. The garage is approached by a trail of ashes.
The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Street ministering to it, and contiguous to absolutely nothing.
One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night restaurant, approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs. George B. Wilson. Cars bought and sold.
The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car visible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner.
It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind, and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead.
Myrtle Wilson's body, wrapped in a blanket, and then in another blanket, as though she suffered from a chill in the hot night, lay on a worktable by the wall.
MY

Myrtle's Apartment (New York)

Synthesis
A small apartment on the top floor of a building on 158th Street. It has a small living-room, dining-room, bedroom, and bath. The living-room is crowded with tapestried furniture too large for it, with scenes of ladies swinging in gardens of Versailles. The only picture is an over-enlarged photograph of a stout old lady. Copies of Town Tattle and scandal magazines lie on the table.
The apartment was on the top floor—a small living-room, a small dining-room, a small bedroom, and a bath.
The living-room was crowded to the doors with a set of tapestried furniture entirely too large for it, so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles.
The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock. Looked at from a distance, however, the hen resolved itself into a bonnet, and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room.
Several old copies of Town Tattle lay on the table together with a copy of Simon Called Peter, and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway.
PL

Plaza Hotel

Synthesis
A hotel in New York where the group rents a parlour of a suite. The room is large and stifling, with windows that admit only hot shrubbery from the Park. There is a ballroom below where a wedding reception plays Mendelssohn's Wedding March.
The room was large and stifling, and, though it was already four o'clock, opening the windows admitted only a gust of hot shrubbery from the Park.
It's a swell suite.
the compressed heat exploded into sound and we were listening to the portentous chords of Mendelssohn's Wedding March from the ballroom below.
CE

Central Park

Synthesis
A park in New York where the narrator and Jordan Baker drive in a victoria after leaving the Plaza. The sun has gone down behind the tall apartments of the movie stars in the West Fifties, and children's voices rise through the hot twilight.
The sun had gone down behind the tall apartments of the movie stars in the West Fifties, and the clear voices of children, already gathered like crickets on the grass, rose through the hot twilight.
We passed a barrier of dark trees, and then the façade of Fifty-Ninth Street, a block of delicate pale light, beamed down into the park.
QU

Queensboro Bridge

Synthesis
A bridge over which Gatsby and the narrator drive into New York. The sunlight through the girders makes a constant flicker on the moving cars. The city rises up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps.
Over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of nonolfactory money.
The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world.
DA

Daisy's House in Louisville

Synthesis
The largest house on the block, with the largest lawn and banners. It is described as a beautiful house with a porch bright with star-shine, and a wicker settee. Inside, there are bedrooms upstairs more beautiful and cool than others, and a sense of gay and radiant activities.
The largest of the banners and the largest of the lawns belonged to Daisy Fay's house.
It amazed him—he had never been in such a beautiful house before.
Her porch was bright with the bought luxury of star-shine; the wicker of the settee squeaked fashionably as she turned toward him.
a hint of bedrooms upstairs more beautiful and cool than other bedrooms, of gay and radiant activities taking place through its corridors.
GA

Gatsby's Pool

Synthesis
A swimming pool on Gatsby's property, which he never used all summer. It is where Gatsby is found dead, floating on a pneumatic mattress. The water has a faint movement, with little ripples, and a thin red circle is traced by the mattress.
There was a faint, barely perceptible movement of the water as the fresh flow from one end urged its way toward the drain at the other.
With little ripples that were hardly the shadows of waves, the laden mattress moved irregularly down the pool.
The touch of a cluster of leaves revolved it slowly, tracing, like the leg of transit, a thin red circle in the water.
CE

Cemetery

Synthesis
The cemetery where Gatsby is buried. It is reached by a procession of three cars in a thick drizzle. The gate is wet, and the ground is soggy. A canvas is unrolled from Gatsby's grave to protect it from the rain.
About five o'clock our procession of three cars reached the cemetery and stopped in a thick drizzle beside the gate—first a motor hearse, horribly black and wet, then Mr. Gatz and the minister and me in the limousine, and a little later four or five servants and the postman from West Egg, in Gatsby's station wagon, all wet to the skin.
the protecting canvas unrolled from Gatsby's grave.
USA, 1920s (Jazz Age)📍 New York (Long Island and Manhattan), USA14 places on the map
Места на карте
  1. 1West Egg
  2. 2East Egg
  3. 3Valley of Ashes
  4. 4New York City
  5. 5Gatsby's Mansion
  6. 6Buchanan's Mansion (East Egg)
  7. 7Wilson's Garage
  8. 8Myrtle's Apartment (New York)
  9. 9Plaza Hotel
  10. 10Central Park
  11. 11Queensboro Bridge
  12. 12Daisy's House in Louisville
  13. 13Gatsby's Pool
  14. 14Cemetery
Map: The Great Gatsby
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