APEnglish–Los Al

Chapter 2 is dominated by two locations: The Valley of the Ashes on Long Island and Myrtle’s apartment in Manhattan. It’s interesting that Nick doesn’t mention anything about The Valley of the Ashes previously (it didn’t just spring up out of nowhere, you know); instead he spends almost the entire first chapter extolling the beauty and vitality of the late spring days and the opulence of the gorgeous mansions.

The valley is on the road from the “eggs” into the great metropolis of New York City. (Refer to the Points of Interest in The Great Gatsby or the first page of the Introduction study guide.) In this vignette Nick turns his considerable descriptive talent towards the not-so-beautiful elements of modern life. He carefully measures his words (as always) to produce an odd and powerful impression of loneliness, and futility—not exactly the stuff of the American Dream. One thing to keep in mind is that this area on Long Island had long been an idyllic agricultural area that was inhabited by Jefferson’s model “yeoman farmer.” These independent laborers (because they didn’t owe anyone their bread) were considered the bedrock of American democracy—they were the men who did not need a government because they could govern themselves.

In Nick’s (and Fitzgerald’s) industrial setting these once farmers and rolling pastures have morphed into a “fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens…” (23) (these gardens are in opposition to the gloriously burning gardens in front of Tom & Daisy’s). It is a depressing sight, and a depressing read. It is reminiscent of Charles Dickens’ famous “Coketown” passage from Hard Times. Men lose their manliness here and become more like ashen insects—they “swarm” about the train. They are also decayed like mummies: “men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air.” These “men” are no longer the “Salt of the earth” as Jesus calls them in his famous “Sermon on the Mount” (Matthew 5-7).

The second paragraph begins with a “but” as if to indicated a significant shift in mood—with any luck to one of hope (Nick’s favorite theme). But it is not to be. Instead we get a vision of the great “Doctor T. J. Eckleburg,” optometrist, oculist, last great hope. The great abandoned billboard looms over the valley, stares vacantly down on the business below, not commenting, not helping. Nick’s words make the great pair of eyes seem God-like, “eternal, brood, solemn.” He, the great eyes, is also said to have “forgot them and moved away.” This is another common reference to God. Protestants, since the earliest days of the Reformation, have been working out an explanation for the cessation of miracles and God’s disregard (through a lack of intervention) in human affairs.

All of this is not enough to dampen Nick’s hopes though. When he looks at the dim garage he imagines that the “garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead.” Probably not. But, I love Nick.

Well, this is where we meet Mr. Wilson and Myrtle Wilson, Tom’s mistress, for the first time. Look at how Mr. Wilson is described: he enters by trying to clean his hands on a “piece of waste”; he’s “spiritless”; “anemic”; and his eyes flash a “damp gleam” of hope when he spies Tom (shouldn’t he be suspicious?). Tom is gruff and cruel to a man who is obviously struggling, and Wilson is forced to simply take it: Tom’s money buys Wilson’s bread. Myrtle, too, is demeaning and is described as “walking through her husband.” Wilson is the epitome of insubstantial.

We’ll take a look at the second location next time.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Filed under: Summer Reading, The Great Gatsby and