The Great Gatsby
The blackness is pierced by a single, pulsing green light...
We drift, as if by boat, across a dark bay toward the light.
Then, we hear a troubled voice.
In my younger and more vulnerable years myfather gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind eversince. “Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “justremember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantagesthat you’v e had.” He didn’t say any more, but we’v e always been unusu-ally communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meanta great deal more than that.
Gatsby, the man whogives his name to this story, represented everything for which I had anunaffected scorn. But if personality is an unbroken series of successfulgestures, then there was something ... gorgeous about him ... someheightened sensitivity to the promises of life. He had an extraordinarygift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in anyother person ... and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.
Nick! Nick, darling, I’m p-paralyzed with happiness!
He throws herself on him and gives him a huge kiss.
Nick Carraway, Miss Baker. Nick is my cousin —
Second cousin, once removed.
He and Tom graduated Yale together.
Did you play football as well?
No, Tom was the football hero. I was —
Tom Buchananenters. His size and money have made him brutal.
Nick! There you are.
He wears riding clothes and pushes ona drink cart.
Care for a drink?
Uh, not yet. Little early for me. Thanks.
Who needs a refresher?
Tom pours a drink. He consumesalcohol the way he used to play football. Daisy flops on a divan, pullingJordan down with her, cuddling like lovers.