Changing Chapter 3 of Nick Carraway Meets Jay Gatsby The Great Gatsby: Jay Apologetic Gatsby’s Original Tone: is an unusual party for the host. I live over there I waved my “This me. I haven’t even seen ——” hand at the invisible hedge in the Gatsby sent over his chauffeur with an distance, “and this man a moment he looked at me as if he failed to understand. invitation.” For he said suddenly. “I’m Gatsby,” I I beg your “What!” exclaimed. “Oh, pardon.” you not a very “I thought knew, old sport. I’m afraid I’m good host.” 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. It faced or — seemed to face the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an — irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey. Precisely at that point it vanished and I was looking at an — elegant young rough-neck, a year or two over thirty, whose elaborate formality of speech just missed being absurd. Some time before he a strong impression that he was picking his introduced himself I’d got words with care. Almost at the moment when Mr. Gatsby identified himself, a butler hurried toward him with the information that Chicago was calling him on the wire. He excused himself with a small bow that included each of us in turn. you want anything just ask for it, old he urged me. me. I will rejoin you “If sport,” “Excuse later.” When he was gone I turned immediately to Jordan constrained to assure her of my surprise. I had — expected that Mr. Gatsby would be a florid and corpulent person in his middle years. is I demanded. “Who he?” you “Do know?” just a man “He’s named Gatsby.” is he from, I mean? And what does he “Where do?”
Changing Chapter 3 of The Great Gatsby: Nick Carraway Meets Jay Gatsby Jay Gatsby’s Original Tone: Apologetic “This is an unusual party for me. I haven’t even seen the host. I live over there ——” I waved my hand at the invisible hedge in the distance, “and this man Gatsby sent over his chauffeur with an invitation.” For a moment he looked at me as if he failed to understand. “I’m Gatsby,” he said suddenly. “What!” I exclaimed. “Oh, I beg your pardon.” “I thought you knew, old sport. I’m afraid I’m not a very good host.” 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. It faced — or seemed to face — the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey. Precisely at that point it vanished — and I was looking at an elegant young rough-neck, a year or two over thirty, whose elaborate formality of speech just missed being absurd. Some time before he introduced himself I’d got a strong impression that he was picking his words with care. Almost at the moment when Mr. Gatsby identified himself, a butler hurried toward him with the information that Chicago was calling him on the wire. He excused himself with a small bow that included each of us in turn. “If you want anything just ask for it, old sport,” he urged me. “Excuse me. I will rejoin you later.” When he was gone I turned immediately to Jordan — constrained to assure her of my surprise. I had expected that Mr. Gatsby would be a florid and corpulent person in his middle years. “Who is he?” I demanded. “Do you know?” “He’s just a man named Gatsby.” “Where is he from, I mean? And what does he do?”
Gatsby_Tone_Change.docx