The Great Gatsby, Chapter 7, Part 1 Audio File with Teacher Commentary

The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, it was when curiosity about Gatsby was at its highest, that the lights in his house failed to go on one Saturday night. And as obscurely as it had begun, his career as trimalchio was over. Only gradually did I become aware that the automobiles which turned expectantly into his drive stayed for just a minute and then drove sulkily away. Wondering if he were sick I went over to find out. An unfamiliar butler with a villainous face squinted at me suspiciously from the door. Is mister Gatsby sick? Nope. After a moment, he added, sir, and a dilatory grudging way. I hadn't seen him around and I was rather worried. Tell him mister carraway came over. Who? He demanded rudely, caraway. Caraway. All right, I'll tell him. Abruptly, he slammed the door.

My fin informed me that Gatsby had dismissed every servant in his house a week ago and replaced them with half a dozen others who never went into west egg village, to be bribed by the tradesmen. But ordered moderate supplies over the telephone. The grocery boy reported that the kitchen looked like a pig sty, and the general opinion in the village was that the new people weren't servants at all. The next day, Gatsby called me on the phone. Going away, I inquired. No old sport. I heard you fired all your servants. I wanted somebody who wouldn't, gossip. Daisy comes over quite often in the afternoons. So the whole caravansary had fallen in like a card house at the disapproval in her eyes.

There are some people Wolfsheim wanted to do something for. They're all brothers and sisters. They used to run a small hotel. I see. He was calling up at daisy's request. Would I come to lunch at her house tomorrow? Miss Baker would be there. Half an hour later, daisy herself telephoned and seemed relieved to find I was coming. Something was up, and yet I couldn't believe that they would choose this occasion for a scene. Especially for the rather harrowing scene that Gatsby had outlined in the garden. So what's going on? Right now is that Gatsby and daisy have decided to tell Tom.

That's what Nick means by this occasion for a scene. So he is going to Gatsby and daisy has invited other people over for lunch. And this is where they are going to tell Tom that they are having an affair in that daisy is leaving Tom for Gatsby. And they want Nick and Jordan there. Probably because Nick and Jordan already know what's going on. And they need some moral support. I'm sure daisy's feeling very nervous. Now, again, we have some weather that's going to match the situation, the scene, and the nerves. Okay? So pay very, very close attention to the weather. The heat, mostly. How hot it is in the beginning when it breaks, and what's going on at that particular moment in time.

So here we go. The next day was broiling. Almost to the last, certainly the warmest of the summer, right? Tensions are running high. What happens when you're nervous, you get very hot, you sweat, okay? So again, this weather is no mistake. As my train emerged from the tunnel into the sunlight, only the hot whistles of the national biscuit company broke the simmering hush at noon. The straw seats of the car hovered on the edge of combustion. The woman next to me perspired delicately for a while into her white shirt waste, and then, as her newspaper dampened under her fingers, lapsed despairingly into deep heat with a desolate cry. Her pocketbook was slapped to the floor. Oh my, she gasped. I picked it up with a weary bend and handed it back to her, holding it at arm's length, and by the extreme tip of the corners to indicate that I had no designs upon it.

But everyone nearby, including the woman, suspected me just the same. So have you ever noticed also when you're hot, your temper is shorter. And that you're very suspicious. Of some people. So this couldn't be there couldn't be a worse day for daisy and Gatsby to reveal their affair to Tom. Right? So not only is Tom hot-tempered to begin with. It's an extremely hot day and everybody's just going to be on the edge already, okay? So this is a very bad day to have chosen to reveal this affair. Hot said the conductor to familiar faces. Some weather, hot, hot, hot. Is it hot enough for you? Is it hot? Is it my commutation ticket that came back to me with a dark stain from his hand? That anyone should care in this heat whose flushed lips he's kissed, whose head made damp the pajama pocket over his heart.

Through the hall of the Buchanan's house blew a faint wind, carrying the sound of the telephone bell out to Gatsby and me as we waited at the door. The master's body roared the butler into the mouse mouthpiece. I'm sorry, madam, but we can't furnish it. It's far too hot to touch this noon. What he really said was, yes, yes. I'll see. He sat down the receiver and came toward us. Glistening slightly to take our stiff straw hats. Madam expects you in the salon, he cried, needlessly indicating the direction. In this heat, every extra gesture was an affront to the common store of life. So again, there is this constant indication to the heat, okay? Nick is calling attention to not just the heat, but to how aggravating people are to the nerves that everybody is feeling. There's this constant overshadow. To this scene here, the room shadowed well with awnings, was dark and cool.

Daisy and Jordan lay upon an enormous couch, like silver idols, weighing down their own white dresses against the singing breeze of the fans. We can't move. They said together. Jordan's fingers, powdered white over their tan, rested for a moment in mine. And mister Thomas Buchanan in the athlete, I inquired. Simultaneously I heard his voice, gruff, mussel, muffled, husky, at the hall, telephone. Gatsby stood in the center of the crimson carpet and gazed around with fascinated eyes. Daisy watched him and left, her sweet, exciting laugh. A tiny gust of powder rose from her bosom into the air. The rumor is, whispered Jordan, that that's Tom's girl on the telephone. We were silent.

The voice in the hall rose high with annoyance. Very well then. I won't sell you the car at all. I'm under no obligation to you at all. And as for your bothering me about it at lunchtime, I won't stand that at all. Holding down the receiver, said daisy cynically. No, he's not, I assured her. It's a bonafide deal. I happen to know about it. So what daisy means by that is they only had house phones, obviously, at this time. And in the olden days, it wasn't just any house phone. It was the house phone that you would set on a table. And then it had a cradle on top of the base and the receiver could be picked up on the top. So it wasn't something like a cordless that was on the wall. But that cradle, if you pushed it down, hung up the phone. So that's what daisy means by holding down the receiver. She thinks that Tom is holding the receiver up to his ear so it appears that he's talking to somebody about a bona FIDE business deal, but that the call with his mistress is now over, and he's putting on a show to make-believe that he's talking about something else.

So that's what that whole thing was about. And Nick is saying, no, he's really, you know, he's got this business deal going on. And I know all about it. This is true. He's probably really talking about that. Tom flung open the door, blocked out its space for a moment with his thick body, and hurried into the room. Mister Gatsby, he put out his broad flat hand with well-concealed dislike. I'm glad to see you, sir. Nick. Make us a cold drink, cry, daisy. As he left, the room again, she got up and went over to Gatsby, and pulled his face down, kissing him on the mouth. You know I love you. She murmured. You forget there's a lady present, said Jordan. Daisy looked around doubtfully. You kissed neck, too. What a low vulgar girl. I don't care, cried daisy, and began to clog on the brick fireplace. Then, she remembered the heat and sat down guiltily on the couch, just as a freshly laundered nurse, leading a little girl came into the room. Blessed precious she crooned, holding out her arms. Come to your own mother that loves you. The child, relinquished by the nurse, rushed across the room and rooted shyly into her mother's dress.

The blessed precious. Did mother get powder on your old yellowy hair? Stand up now and say, how'd he do? Gatsby and I in turn leaned down and took the small, reluctant hand. Afterward, he kept looking at the child with surprise, I don't think he had ever actually believed in its existence before. So Gatsby right now is looking at this child for the first time. This is daisy's daughter who has just entered into the room. Now, we haven't even seen the daughter up to this point. We only heard a brief conversation between Nick and daisy about the daughter in chapter one. So I'm sure, as this happens to me every single year, I forget the daughter exists. I don't know if Gatsby knows that daisy has a daughter, or maybe he did. But this child certainly has never factored into his plans with daisy at all. Not only that, but Nick told us, excuse me, at the end of chapter 6, or at the end of the party in chapter 6, that he wanted daisy to go to Tom and say, I never loved you.

This child kind of contradicts that statement, doesn't it? Well, at least it should. And in these times, it probably did. If daisy has a child with Tom, then there was love there, at least at some point in time. So this is kind of like a double whammy for Gatsby seeing this child. It's like holy crap. I forgot that there was a daughter, and not only that, does this child mean that she absolutely did love him at one point in time. If you do the math out, daisy was pregnant before Tom got into that accident with the chambermaid. Excuse me. Which was when daisy realized the first time that he was unfaithful. But so daisy was already pregnant and we know that she did love him because Jordan tells us that she did. She said I never saw a girl so in love with her husband. So there's a little bit of a problem here.

Okay, back to the book. Mid one 17. I got dressed before luncheon, said the child, turning eagerly to daisy. That's because your mother wanted to show you off. Her face bent into the single wrinkle of the small white neck. You dream you. You absolute little dream, yes, admitted the child calmly, Jordan's got on a white dress too. How do you like your mother's friends? Daisy turned her around so that she faced Gatsby. Do you think they're pretty? Whereas daddy, she doesn't look like her father, explains daisy. She looks like me. She's got my hair in the shape of the face. Daisy sat back upon the couch. The nurse took a step forward and held out her hand. Goodbye, sweetheart. With a reluctant backward glance, the well-disciplined child held to her nurse's hand and was pulled out the door. Just as Tom came back proceeding for Jin Ricky's that clicked full of ice. Gatsby took up his drink. They certainly look cool, he said, with visible tension. We drank in long greedy swallows. A little bit of liquid courage here for everybody, huh? I read somewhere that the sun's getting hotter every year, said Tom Ginny Lee.

It seems that pretty soon the earth is going to fall into the sun. Or wait a minute. It's just the opposite. The sun's getting colder every year. Come outside, he suggested to Gatsby. I'd like you to have a look at the place. And what he really means to say is, you know, I want you to look at my place to see what tastes and class really looks like. He's not being cordial. He's being snarky. I went with them out to the veranda. On the green sound stagnant in the heat, one small sail crawled slowly toward the fresher sea. Gatsby's eyes followed at momentarily, he raised his hand and pointed across the bay. I'm right across from you, so you are. Our eyes lifted over the rose beds and the hot lawn and the weedy refused of the dog days along shore. Slowly the white wings of the boat moved against the blue cool limit of the sky ahead lay the scalloped ocean in the abounding blessed isles.

Their sport for you said Tom nodding, I'd like to be out there with him for about an hour. We had luncheon in the dining room, darkened two against the heat, and drank down nervous gaiety with the cold ale. What do we do with ourselves this afternoon? Cried daisy. And the day after that, and the next 30 years don't be morbid, Jordan said, life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall. But it's so hot and daisy on the verge of tears. And everything. So confused, let's all go to town. So this short exchange between daisy and Jordan is actually really important. Because they're not talking about just today, right? Daisy and Jordan are actually having a conversation about what daisy's decision is going to be, which she's clearly conflicted about even now. So daisy starts off with, you know, what are we going to do with ourselves this afternoon? What's on the agenda for today? But then she continues with and tomorrow. And the next 30 years, right? What do I do? Who do I choose? Do I stay where I am? And I'm unhappy and cheated on and abused for the next 30 years. Or do I leave this life? And go into the unknown with Gatsby, but what does that look like? So daisy's like, Jordan, help me out. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to choose. And Jordan's like, listen, calm down. And then she makes this ironic statement. Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

Life doesn't start all over again in the fall. Life dies in the fall. That's the beginning of the death of nature, right? Spring is when life starts over. But fall is right around the corner. Maybe what Jordan is saying is that you know, let this life die because you're clearly unhappy and Tom is a jerk. And you can go on to a new life with Gatsby. I think Jordan is telling her maybe to start all over again. Of course, that's debatable, but that's one way to look at it. And then daisy comes back with, but it's so hot. Everything's so confusing. You know, Jordan, I don't know what to do. And then she decides she's actually not ready to make this decision. Let's all go to town. She wants to delay it, okay? Her voice struggled on through the heat, beating against it, molding its senselessness into forms. I've heard of making a garage out of a stable, Tom was saying to Gatsby. But I am the first man who ever made a stable out of a garage. Who wants to go to town doing a daisy insistently? Gatsby's eyes floated toward her.

She cried you look so cool. Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other alone in space. With an effort, she glanced down at the table. You always look so cool. She repeated. She had told him that she loved him. And Tom, Buchanan saw. He was astounded. His mouth opened a little, and he looked at Gatsby and then back at daisy as if he had just recognized her as someone he knew a long time ago. So again, this very brief but extremely important exchange. So she keeps trying to delay. The longer she stays in this house, she feels like this conversation is going to take place. This conversation of, you know, we're having an affair and I'm leaving you and she doesn't want that conversation to take place. She's not sure. So let's go to town. Let's go to town and Gatsby picks up on this and he looks over at her and she makes the statement and they stare at each other and Tom realizes what's going on. So mid-one 19.

You resemble the advertisement of the man. She went on innocently. You know the advertisement of the man? All right, Tom broke quickly. I'm perfectly willing to go to town. Come on, we're all going to town. He got up. His eyes still flash between Gatsby and his wife. No one moved. Come on, his temper cracked a little. What's the matter anyhow? For going to town, let's start. His hand, trembling with his effort itself control, bore into his lips the last of his glass of ale. Daisy's voice got us to our feet, and out onto the blazing gravel drive. Are we just going to go? She objected, like this, aren't we going to let anyone smoke a cigarette first? Everybody smoked all through lunch. Oh, let's have fun. She begged him, it's too hot to fuss. He didn't answer. Have it your own way, she said, come on, Jordan. They went upstairs to get ready while we three men stood there shuffling the hot pebbles with our feet.

As the silver curve of the moon hovered already in the western sky, Gatsby started to speak, changed his mind. But not before Tom wield and faced him expectantly. Have you got your stables here, asked Gatsby with an effort. About a quarter of a mile down the road. Oh, a pause. I don't see the idea of going to town, broke out Tom savagely, women get these notions in their heads. So what Tom is really referring to is daisy's affair with Gatsby. Shall we take anything to drink called daisy from an upper window? I'll get some whisky answer, Tom. He went inside. Gatsby turned to me rigidly. I can't say anything in this household sport. She's got an indiscreet voice, I remarked. It's full of, I hesitated. Her voice is full of money. He said, suddenly. That was it. I never understood before. It was full of money. That was the inexhaustible charm that rose and felony.

The jingle of it, the symbols, the song of it, high in a white palace, the king's daughter, the golden girl. Tom came out of the house wrapping a quart bottle in a towel, followed by daisy and Jordan wearing small, tight hats of metallic cloth, and carrying like capes over their arms. Shall we all go in my car suggested Gatsby. He felt the hot green leather of the sea. I ought to have left it in the shade. Is it standard shift demanded Tom? Yes. Well, you take my coupe. And let me drive your car to town. The suggestion was distasteful to Gatsby. I don't think there's much gas. He objected. Which is funny because he just offered to take everybody into his car. Plenty of gas, Tom said boisterously. He looked at the gauge. And if it runs out, I can stop at a drugstore. You can buy anything at a drugstore nowadays.

Now that's a dig. If you remember, Tom was talking about how Gatsby got all of his money. He says I bet he's just a big bootlegger and daisy says, no, I happen to know he owned a lot of drug stores. So to have Tom has made this comment, you can buy anything at a drugstore nowadays. There's a hidden meaning behind there somewhere. A pause follows this apparently pointless remark. Nobody seems to get it, right? We get it. Daisy looked at Tom frowning and an indefinable expression at once definitely unfamiliar and vaguely recognizable as if I had only heard it described in words passed over Gatsby's face. Right? So Gatsby has also picked up on it, right? And this look flashes over his face. Like, uh oh. Come on, daisy, said Tom, pressing her with his hand towards Gatsby's car. I'll take you in the circus wagon. So again, another day get Gatsby.

He opened the door, but she moved out from the circle of his arm. You take Vic and Jordan, we'll follow you in the coupe. She walked close to Gatsby, touching his coat with her hand. Jordan and Tom and I got into the front seat of Gatsby's car. Tom pushed the unfamiliar gears, tentatively, and we shot off into the oppressive heat. Leaving them out of sight behind. So daisy now knows that Tom knows, right? So she just snubbed her husband to leave with her boyfriend in her husband's car. Okay? So this is getting pretty dirty between the two of them right now. There's a lot of a lot of tension building up and don't forget there's this giant heat wave and it's just building, okay? Did you see that demanded Tom? See what? He looked at me keenly realizing that Jordan and I must have known all along. You think I'm pretty dumb, don't you? He suggested.

Perhaps I am, but I have almost a second sight sometimes that tells me what to do. Maybe you don't believe that, but science. He paused the immediate contingency overtook him, pulled him back from the edge of the theoretical abyss. I've made a small investigation of this fellow. He continued. I could have gone deeper if I'd have known. Do you mean you've been to a medium, inquired Jordan humorously. A medium is someone who talks to dead people. What confused him, he stared at us as we laughed. A medium about Gatsby. About Gatsby, no, I have it. I said I'd been making a small investigation of his past. And you found he was an Oxford man. Said Jordan helpfully. An Oxford man. He was incredulous, like how he is. He wears a pink soup.

Nevertheless, he's an Oxford man. Oxford, New Mexico, snorted Tom contemptuously. Something like that. Listen, Tom, if you're such a snob, why did you invite him to lunch? Demanded Jordan Crossley. Daisy invited him. She knew him before we were married. God knows where. We were all irritable now with the fading ale. And aware of it, we drove for a while in silence. Then, as doctor TJ echo Berg's faded eyes came into sight down the road, I remembered Gatsby's caution about gasoline. We've got enough to get we've got enough to get us to town, said Tom. But there's a garage right here objected Jordan. I don't want to get stalled in this baking heat. Now, the only garage in town, right? Where doctor TJ's eyes are, we're in the valley of ashes.

The only garage is George Wilson's garage, okay? That's the only place to get gas around. Now, Nick knows Myrtle, but he doesn't know George. Oh no, he doesn't know George. He was there, right? So Nick knows where they are. Jordan has no idea, right? The last place that Tom wants to stop for gas is this garage. But he doesn't really have a choice. Tom threw on both brakes and patiently, and we slid to an abrupt dusty stop under Wilson's sign. After a moment the proprietor emerged from the interior of his establishment in glazed hollow-eyed at the car. Let's have some guess. Cried Tom roughly. What do you think we stopped for? To admire the view. I'm sick, said Wilson without moving. Ben was sick all day. What's the matter? I'm all run down. Well, shall I help myself, Tom demanded? You sounded well enough on the phone. With an effort, Wilson left the shade and support of the doorway and breathing hard, unscrewed the cap of the tank. And the sunlight, his face was green.

I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch, he said. But I need money pretty bad. And I was wondering what you were going to do with your old car. How do you like this one inquired Tom? I bought it last week. That's a super important line. Now Wilson thinks that Tom owns Gatsby's car. Keep that in mind, please. It's an ice yellow one, said Wilson, as he strained at the handle. I like to buy it. Big chance. Wilson smiled faintly. No, but I could make some money on the other. What do you want money for all of a sudden? You've been here too long. I want to get away. My wife and I want to go west. Your wife does. Exclaimed Tom startled. She's been talking about it for ten years. He rested for a moment against the pump shading his eyes. And now she's going whether she wants to or not. I'm going to get her away. The coupe flashed by us with a flurry of dust in the flash of a waving hand. Where do I owe you demanded Tom harshly.

I just got wised up to something funny the last two days remarked Wilson. That's why I want to get away. That's why I've been bothering you about the car. What do I owe you? The restless beating heat was beginning to confuse me. And I had a bad moment there before I realized that so far, his suspicions hadn't alighted on time. So Wilson just said he wised up to something funny. He knows Myrtle's having an affair. And Nick was like, oh my God, this is going to get really bad. And then he goes, oh, wait a minute. He knows she's having an affair, but he doesn't know that she's having an affair with Tom. Okay? So Wilson knows but not with who. He had discovered that Myrtle had some sort of life apart from him in another world, and the shock had made him physically sick.

I stared at him, and then at Tom, who made a parallel discovery less than an hour before. And it occurred to me that there was no difference between men. An intelligence or race, so profound is the difference between the sick and the well. Wilson was so sick that he looked guilty. Unforgivably guilty as if he just got some poor girl with a child. I'll let you have that car said Tom. I'll send it over tomorrow afternoon. That locality was always vaguely disquieting. Even in the broad glare of afternoon. And now I turn my head as though I had been warned of something behind. Over the ashes, the giant eyes of doctor TJ Eckberg kept their vigil, but I perceived after a moment that other eyes were regarding us with peculiar intensity, from less than 20 feet away. And one of the windows over the garage, the curtains had been moved to the side a little, and Myrtle Wilson was peering down at the car. So engrossed was she that she had no consciousness of being observed.

And one emotion after another crept into her face like objects into a slowly developing picture. Her expression was curiously familiar. It was an expression that I had often seen on women's faces, but on Myrtle Wilson's face, it seemed purposeless, and inexplicable until I realized that her eyes, wide with jealous terror, were fixed, not on the tongue. But on Jordan baker, whom she took to be his wife. Okay, so, before we go any further, what we need to know right now is that both George and Myrtle have seen Tom and Gatsby's car. Tom told Wilson that he owns the car. He's also driving with Nick, who Myrtle knows. And Jordan, who she doesn't know.

So she's upstairs in this window over the garage looking down over at what's going on, and all she sees is Nick, who she knows is attached. And Jordan, who she thinks is daisy. And she is raving jealous. All right, I'm going to stop here with chapter 7. This is going to be the end of part one. And then there will be a second part for chapter 7 for you to listen to. Okay?