《了不起的盖茨比》精读班第二季 第7讲 讲义

《了不起的盖茨比》精读班第二季第7讲讲义Hergrey,sun-strainedeyesstaredstraightahead,butshehaddeliberatelyshiftedourrelations,andforamomentIthoughtIlovedher.ButIamslow-thinkingandfullofinteriorrulesthatactasbrakesonmydesires,andIknewthatfirstIhadtogetmyselfdefinitelyoutofthattanglebackhome.I'dbeenwritinglettersonceaweekandsigningthem:"Love,Nick,"andallIcouldthinkofwashow,whenthatcertaingirlplayedtennis,afaintmustacheofperspirationappearedonherupperlip.NeverthelesstherewasavagueunderstandingthathadtobetactfullybrokenoffbeforeIwasfree.Everyonesuspectshimselfofatleastoneofthecardinalvirtues,andthisismine:IamoneofthefewhonestpeoplethatIhaveeverknown.ChapterfourOnSundaymorningwhilechurchbellsranginthevillagesalongshore，theworldanditsmistressreturnedtoGatsby'shouseandtwinkledhilariouslyonhislawn."He'sabootlegger,"saidtheyoungladies,movingsomewherebetweenhiscocktailsandhisflowers."OnetimehekilledamanwhohadfoundoutthathewasnephewtoVonHindenburgandsecondcousintothedevil.Reachmearose,honey,andpourmealastdropintothattherecrystalglass.”OnceIwrotedownontheemptyspacesofatime-tablethenamesofthosewhocametoGalsby'shousethatsummer.Itisanoldtime-tablenow,disintegratingatitsfoldsandheaded"ThisscheduleineffectJuly5th,1922."ButIcanstillreadthegreynamesandtheywillgiveyouabetterimpressionthanmygeneralitiesofthosewhoacceptedGatsby'shospitalityandpaidhimthesubtletributeofknowingnothingwhateverabouthim.Atnineo'clock,onemorninglateinJuly，Gatsby'sgorgeouscarlurcheduptherockydrivetomydoorandgaveoutaburstofmelodyfromitsthreenotedhorn.ItwasthefirsttimehehadcalledonmethoughIhadgonetotwoofhisparties,mountedinhishydroplane,and,athisurgentinvitation,madefrequentuseofhisbeach."Goodmorning,oldsport.You'rehavinglunchwithmetodayandIthoughtwe'drideuptogether."HewasbalancinghimselfonthedashboardofhiscarwiththatresourcefulnessofmovementthatissopeculiarlyAmerican—thatcomes,Isuppose,withtheabsenceofliftingworkorrigidsittinginyouthand,evenmore,withtheformlessgraceofournervous,sporadicgames.Thisqualitywascontinuallybreakingthroughhispunctiliousmannerintheshapeofrestlessness.Hewasneverquitestill;therewasalwaysatappingfootsomewhereortheimpatientopeningandclosingofahand.Hesawmelookingwithadmirationathiscar."It'spretty,isn'tit,oldsport."Hejumpedofftogivemeabetterview."Haven'tyoueverseenitbefore?"I'dseenit.Everybodyhadseenit.Itwasarichcreamcolor,brightwithnickel,swollenhereandthereinitsmonstrouslengthwithtriumphanthatboxesandsupper-boxesandtool-boxes,andterracedwithalabyrinthofwindshieldsthatmirroredadozensuns.Sittingdownbehindmanylayersofglassinasortofgreenleatherconservatory,westartedtotown.Ihadtalkedwithhimperhapshalfadozentimesinthepastmonthandfound,tomydisappointment,thathehadlittletosay.Somyfirstimpression,thathewasapersonofsomeundefinedconsequence,hadgraduallyfadedandhehadbecomesimplytheproprietorofanelaborateroadhousenextdoor.Andthencamethatdisconcertingride.Wehadn'treachedWestEggvillagebeforeGatsbybeganleavinghiselegantsentencesunfinishedandslappinghimselfindecisivelyonthekneeofhiscaramel-coloredsuit."Lookhere,oldsport,"hebrokeoutsurprisingly."What'syouropinionofme,anyhow?”Alittleoverwhelmed,Ibeganthegeneralizedevasionswhichthatquestiondeserves."Well,I'mgoingtotellyousomethingaboutmylife,"heinterrupted."Idon'twantyoutogetawrongideaofmefromallthesestoriesyouhear."