The light shines through the pane glass window on my all around gloomy day. In my small, modest cottage on West Egg which was enough space for me would soon be no more. I am in the midst of losing everything.
I came to New York to learn how to be a stockbroker. I thought that like everyone else on Wall Street that it would be easy. Unfortunately for my savings and my dignity’s sake, it was not.
What I found out just recently is that I am a terrible stockbroker: I never pick the right stock, I always lose my client’s money, and despite how many books I read I will never have the intuition like so many others have.
My manager tells me that I lack the necessary business sense to do this job; that its not a matter of education, but of talent. Talent, which must be born and not taught. He relieves me of my post, effective immediately. I leave the building, being escorted out by two guards.
I am broke.
I barely have enough savings to make due. What this all means is that I will be moving out of West Egg and into the dingy city. I thought it would be nice to spend the summer somewhere I could walk outside and see green. Unfortunately, this is not going to happen.
I’m going to miss the friends that I’ve made. Of course, I’ll see Daisy and Tom again, for she is my cousin; but Jordan, I’m not so sure. As soon as she finds out that I’m moving she will likely begin her golf tour. She’ll keep in touch with Daisy of course, but me, she will be too busy and I would not want to take away from her profession.
Then there are my friends in West Egg. Gatsby. Once I move to New York, I probably won’t see him again. What does an Oxford man want with someone who can barely afford a cottage meant for a servant? It’s unfortunate, for we just became friends in the last few days.
I just went to his incredible party two nights ago. He took me out on his hydroplane yesterday morning and we spent the day together. These are the experiences that I will miss. When I saw him yesterday, he said he wanted to ask me to do him a favour. Although he never articulated what he wanted, I will not be able to help him.
I begin packing up my cottage. This won’t take long as when I moved from Chicago I only took the necessities with me. Gatsby's walking over. I can see him in his luscious garden as though he was Adam in the Garden of Eden, as I fold my last suit.
Gatsby knocks, four firm but pleasant taps. I put down the clothes I’m folding and go to the door. I hesitate to open, knowing that he will ask me about the favour that I can no longer perform.
Gatsby knocks again, a little louder this time. This time I answer immediately, not wanting to be rude. “How can I help you Gatsby?” I ask, knowing full well what I can help him with.
“Well Old Sport, I came to discuss that favour a little further, would you be so kind as to invite your dear neighbour in?” Gatsby remarks. Without saying anything, I go further into the cottage, leaving the door opened behind. Gatsby, as I knew he would, follows me into the kitchen.
“So, Old Sport, you know that I am an Oxford man, of exemplary character. I would never steal or lead astray another man’s wife, you do know that Old Sport?” Gatsby says strongly.
As I wait to try and find the right words to tell him that I am moving, Gatsby’s face pumps with blood, there is a slight pinkish tone to his cheeks and he begins pacing around my kitchen. Before I have the chance to say anything, Gatsby says, “Old Sport, don’t you trust me? I am nothing but honourable”.
Of course I know that Gatsby is honourable, and despite only knowing him for a few days, I do trust him. I trust him with my life. “Gatsby this is not a matter of trust. I am afraid that I have some bad news” I say, looking downwards, ashamed that I let this go too far.
Gatsby looks at me inquisitively and I say, “I lost my job as a stockbroker in New York. I lack a certain type of business sense needed to succeed in that line of work. As such, I am moving into the city where the rent is more affordable.”
I’m not meeting Gatsby’s eyes when he responds boldly, “Well why don’t you let me fix this, Old Sport?” Gatsby asks.
I immediately respond, “Absolutely not. I will not take a handout, Gatsby.” I will not injure my dignity more by asking my new friend to take care of my bills.
Gatsby chuckles to himself, “No, no. I would never insult you like that. I was merely suggesting that I could help you find a job. You know, one of my senior managers, who I liked very much, just retired. I have that vacant spot. You would be perfect. You would work very closely with me daily. I think this is a great opportunity, Old Sport. Won’t you agree?” Gatsby pleaded.
I thought about working for Gatbsy for just one second. It would be a fantastic opportunity. Obviously, Gatsby has done very well for himself and it would be nice to involve myself in a legitimate business to make myself a small fortune like Gatsby. I agree immediately.
With no time to lose, knowing that I was already behind on my rent, Gatsby instructs me that we will begin working first thing tomorrow morning. I am not sure exactly what this entails, but I’m excited to finally have a job which I will succeed at. I agree to meet at his car at 8 am sharp and decide to take leave to Daisy’s house for the remainder of my day which has now been freed from packing and worrying.
I arrive at Daisy’s in time for dinner. Greeted by her extravagant, luxurious pearls as she falls excitedly into my arms. Daisy greets me as if it are first meeting in years, as if she has been desperately longing to see me.
We gravitate to the dinning while the dinner service is beginning and Tom is being pulled away for yet another mysterious phone call. Daisy rolls her eyes at him with a sigh of exhaustion and annoyance then invites me to be seated.
Following small talk, she inquires about my day to which I provide the excitement of starting a career with a man called Gatsby. I am right in the middle of explaining this when Tom comes back into the room. With a stern look and loud grunt, he interupts: “Gatsby? Impossible! You would diminish yourself to a bootlegger? Why is it preposterous!”
I look to Daisy as a nervous smile twists on her lips. Seeing no objection in the imminent future I rise to Gatsby’s defence alone, “I heard, and I am quite inclined to believe that Gatsby is in the pharmaceutical business.”
The rest of the evening pours out quickly with pleasantries spilling out between the three of us. As the evening closes Daisy walks me to the door and with a kind look instructs me to take care of myself.
The next morning I wake early planning my best suit in honour of my new job with Gatsby. I arrive at his car at ten to eight and it is barely five minutes before he arrives. Taking to the passenger side of the car, I smile at my friend and pull off onto the road.
We make small talk as we drive out of Long Island and into New York City. I see this dark, run down factory that from the outside looks to be in disrepair. The looks of it are very unwelcoming. As I go into the doors the inside is completely different from the outside. Whereas the outside looked like the factory was abandoned, the inside is fresh and new. The ceilings are high and the room large and clean. The floor is tiled in white and there was not a speck of dirt or grime anywhere.
As I look around I notice sealed boxes being placed into a truck that is all white and has ‘furniture’ written on it. I look a little further to see two large, burly men in jumpsuits putting dark, glass bottles into brown boxes similar to what was being loaded onto the truck. The second burly man with dark eyes places straw in between the bottles.
I stare at this establishment in amazement and say nothing as I follow Gatsby deeper into his business world. He takes me down a long hallway to a second room where liquid is being poured into the dark bottles.
I smile, so Gatbsy really is involved with the pharmacy business. Obviously, this is some kind of new liquid medicine. Knowing Gatsby, it is probably top secret to prevent anyone from stealing the magic elixir. I wonder what it does? What the intended use is for?
As I stare questioningly at the bottles Gatsby interrupts my train of thought, “Do you have a question there Old Sport? You look deep in thought.”
I did have a question, several in fact. I figure now is as good of a time as any to voice my questions, “Where does the medicine go and what ailment is it for?” I ask innocently enough.
Gatsby looks at me and laughs a hearty laugh straight from his belly and I stand there not knowing what was so funny that caused his laughter. “Well Old Sport” Gatsby says mid-laugh, “these bottles go to various pharmacies around the city and to the outskirts. As for what ailment they are designed to fix, I would say that they are intended to fix the wounds of the soul. They help one to,” Gatsby pauses, “forget their troubles, at least for one dose.” I nod my head as Gatsby finishes his sentence.
After I nod, Gatsby turns to walk deeper into the factory. I follow along in earnest. He leads me to a back room that looks to be an office. We go in, there is a man sitting behind the desk already. Gatsby greets him and I recognize him from our lunch the day prior, it is Mr. Wolfsheim.
He announces that he is leaving as he had some business to attend to and shakes my hand, welcoming me into the business. I thank him and he leaves, closing the door behind him.
When I turn back around, Gatsby has taken his seat behind the desk. His face is serious and business-like as he says, “Old Sport, please know that this is not a handout but rather an upfront payment. I know that you will do good work here. This is just something to tie you over, to ensure that you can remain in your cottage in West Egg. To ensure that you are comfortable enough there to fulfill my favour” Gatsby says, handing me a stack of green bills, neatly organized with bands around them.
I thank him and take the money. As I look at it, I notice that this is more money than I have ever held at any one time. There was enough for more than one year’s rent on that cottage. I initially think that this is too much, but Gatsby transforms and he gives me a stern look that tells me that I should not attempt to argue over the amount.
I put the money into my messenger bag that I have on my shoulder. Then we move on to discuss what my role will be. Gatsby explains how I will be his right hand man. That I will run this factory and ensure that deliveries are on time. He warns me of the dangers one of which I will record here, the spies as Gatsby calls them. Gatsby says that they are everywhere, just looking to find out about his business. I tell him that I will be diligent.
With the end of the conversation Gatsby says that it is time for lunch. I offer to pay, since Gatsby is generous with his upfront payment. Gatsby leads me to an establishment that I have never been to before. He knocks three times in different areas of the door at the back of a restaurant. Then, a man, who looks like a guard, lets us down the slim hallway to a flight of stairs. When we go into the basement, there are various games such as highball which I remember is Mr. Wolfsheim’s favourite.
Gatsby leads us to a table and orders a meal for himself. I order the same, not knowing what is particularly good eating here. The waiter brings us each a glass of alcohol. I worry at first, because of the prohibition, but see Gatsby take a sip without hesitation.
Throwing my conscience to the wind, I too take a drink. I’m working for Gatsby now, I better get used to this life with all the glitz and glamour that comes with it.
Reflection:
F. Scott Fitzgerald was able to portray the materialism, and consumerism, that accompanied economic prosperity in the 1920s. Fitzgerald writes about the Jazz Age and is himself a writer of the ‘lost generation’. During the 1920s, the prohibition, via the 18th Amendment was in effect, but it was not followed. Characters like Gatsby are seen as ‘shallow living’ since they disobey the law, and facilitate the sale and purchase of alcohol. In writing this novel, Fitzgerald not only critiques the immorality of the Jazz Age, but also predicts an impending doom. Through the death of Gatsby, Fitzgerald indicates that this economic prosperity found in the interwar period will eventually come to an end. Moreover, he predicted that if the behaviours of consumerism and materialism were not to be changed in the immediate future, America would reach a point of no return.
Fitzgerald uses the structural features of a first person and unreliable narrator. Nick Carraway is the first person narrator and is an unreliable narrator as is writing his story after the plot of the book happens. He never portrays Gatsby in a negative light, even when presented with evidence that Gatsby is doing something wrong. I utilize the structural feature of first person narration as my addition is narrated by Nick, in the similar style to The Great Gatsby. Additionally, my narrator is unreliable because he fabricates, or blatantly disregards important information that would paint Gatsby in a bad image. For example, when I write that Gatsby takes Nick to the factory and shows him around, Nick is enthralled by the factory and is blind that it is producing alcohol. Even after seeing Mr. Wolfsheim and knowing his involvement in illegal activity (i.e., the novel tells us that Mr. Wolfsheim fixed the World Series in 1919), Nick continues to ignore that this is an illegal factory. Nick continues to uphold his ignorance and unfaithful description of the factory when he asks Gatsby about what ‘medicine’ they are producing here. Overall, in my addition Nick never admits that Gatsby is a bootlegger, despite being told this by Tom, the happenings at Gatsby’s factory, and meeting Mr. Wolfsheim.
Two other structural features that I use are prioritization and sentence types. I use prioritization to ensure that the reader knows that Gatsby is a good man. Fitzgerald also uses this in a similar way because no matter what, Nick always excuses or does not call out Gatsby’s improper behaviour. I also try to imitate Fitzgerald’s use of sentence types. Nick remarks Gatsby’s sentence structure is “elaborate” and “just missed being absurd” (Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, 53). In this way, Gatsby’s speech patterns are intended to be different from the other characters. I try to imitate this by making Gatsby’s dialogue consist of complex sentences and formal language.
Fitzgerald makes use of various language features, including opinion, in his writing of The Great Gatsby. Opinion is always used as this is a first person narration by Nick, and as such Nick’s opinion is infused throughout. Nick’s opinion is that Gatsby is good and does no wrong. I try to incorporate this into my writing, similar to how I try to incorporate Nick as an unreliable narrator.
Another language feature that Fitzgerald makes use of is similes to provide vivid descriptions; this helps with imagery. For example, Fitzgerald uses a simile to convey that Gatsby was nervous in anticipation of his meeting with Daisy. Nick describes Gatsby’s skin as, “pale as death” (Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, 92). I use a simile, “I can see him in his luscious garden as though he was Adam in the Garden of Eden” to signify that his garden is beautiful like the garden is created by God and to signify that like Adam who was innocent as it was Eve who bit the forbidden fruit, Gatsby too is innocent. This simile also creates an image in one’s mind of a God-made garden, a man who is the creation of God, and a man who is innocent.
While many believe that The Great Gatsby is a tribute to the Jazz Age and espouses the message that the American Dream is unattainable, Fitzgerald uses the novel to comment on society’s morality in the 1920s. On the face, I too utilize the theme of the American Dream, but if one looks deeper at my addition, they will see that the message I intend to convey is that materialism and consumerism corrupts one into bad paths. Nick was a stockbroker and while that failed, he could have moved into the city of New York; however, he desired to maintain his social standing and his cottage in West Egg. As a result, he accepts Gatsby’s offer of employment even after Tom tells him that Gatsby is a bootlegger and witnessing for himself the happenings at the factory. At the end of the story, while out for lunch, Nick knows that consuming alcohol is illegal and wrong; however, he does so anyway “throwing...conscience to the wind” and claiming that because he is working for Gatsby he will embrace or consume all of what the time period can offer, including alcohol. By “throwing...conscience to the wind” Nick is embracing the consumer culture and all of the immorality that accompanies it. In this way, my addition to the novel is similar to Fitzgerald’s critique; that consumerism and greed corrupts man into performing immoral and illegal activities.
Works Cited
Fitzgerald, Francis Scott. The Great Gatsby and Other Stories. China, Monti Publishing & More, Canada, 2012.
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