The Great Gatsby. B2 / Великий Гэтсби

© Темурян К. Т., адаптация, словарь, упражнения, 2024

© ООО «Издательство АСТ», 2024

Chapter 1

In my younger and morevulnerable years, my father once gave me some valuable advice. His recommendation was to avoid criticizing others by reminding myself that not everyone has had the same advantages as me. This piece of advice made me a target for those who are too eager to share their personal problems. During college, I was often mistaken for a politician because I was well informed of other people's troubles. Most times, I would pretend to be asleep or busy to avoid hearing about them.

Despite my efforts not to judge anyone, this tolerance has its limits. After returning from the East last autumn, I wished for a world that was more morallystrict, free from the chaotic emotions and indulgences of others. The only person who was free from this reaction was Gatsby, a man who, despite representing much of what I normally, possessed an extraordinary sense of hope that I had never seen before and probably never would again.

My family, the Carraways, have beenprominent and well-to-do in our Midwestern city for three generations. Our line begins with my great-uncle who came to America in 1851, started a successful business made a fortune. As for me – after graduating from university in 1915, I joined the military during World War I. The experience left me restless and disillusioned with Midwest, so I decided to move east and learn the bond business. My family agreed to finance my endeavor for a year, and after several delays, I finally moved to the East Coast in the spring of 1922.

I rented amodest bungalow in a town on Long Island. I shared it with my dog that ran away days later and a Finnish woman who took care of the house. Although the first few days were lonely, chanceencounters made me feel like a part of the community, and the summer felt like a new beginning filled with the promise of fresh air and new books.

My house was located in West Egg, a less fashionable part of Long Island. Despite their similar shapes, West Egg and East Egg are vastly different in character. Myhumble home was overshadowed by the extravagant mansionsthat surrounded it, including a colossal mansion next door, owned by the mysterious Mr. Gatsby.

One day, I was invited to dinner at the home of Tom and Daisy Buchanan in East Egg. Daisy was my cousin, and I had met Tom in college. The Buchanans had recently moved East after spending some time traveling through Europe. Tom used to be a skilled football player, but later became arestless and aggressive man, who lived off his enormous wealth and always searched for excitement. Their home in East Egg was a grand mansion with a lawn that stretched to the beach. When I arrived, I was greeted by Tom, whose appearance and commanding voice were as intimidating as ever.

Inside the house, I was introduced to a young woman named Jordan Baker, who was a friend of Daisy's. Miss Baker was lying on a couch,motionless, while Daisy greeted me warmly. Her voice was filled with excitement and charm. She was the kind of person who could captivate others with just a few words.

As we were talking, Tom asked about my career in thebond business. He sounded skeptical, but I assured him that he would hear of my company soon enough. At this point, Miss Baker, who had been silent, suddenly exclaimed, “Absolutely!” It surprised both Tom and me. I looked at her again, and I realized that I had seen her before, or, perhaps, a picture of her.

“You live in West Egg,” she remarkedarrogantly. “I know someone there. You must know him too. It's Gatsby.”

“Gatsby? What Gatsby?” Daisy demanded.

Before I could respond, dinner was announced, and Tom led me into the dining room. When the phone rang inside, and thebutler went to answer it, Daisy leaned toward me, eager to share a family secret. “It's about the butler's nose. Want to hear?”

“That's why I came over tonight,” I joked.

She explained that thebutler had once worked for a wealthy New York family until the work ruined his nose, forcing him to quit. As she spoke, the butler whispered something to Tom, who frowned and left the table without saying a word. Daisy excused herself.

I was about to speak to Miss Baker when she suddenly whispered, “Shh! Don't talk. I want to hear what happens.”

“Is something happening?” I asked innocently.

“Don't you know?” she said, surprised. “I thought everyone knew. Tom's got some woman in New York. And she doesn't have enough decency not to call him during dinner.”

Before I could fully understand the meaning, Tom and Daisy returned. Daisy sat down,tense but trying to appear cheerful. She mentioned something romantic about a bird singing on the lawn, but Tom seemed uninterested. The telephone rang again, disrupting the conversation. Daisy shook her head at Tom. I wanted to look at everyone but also avoid all eyes. I couldn't tell what Daisy and Tom were thinking, but even Miss Baker seemed unable to ignore the fifth guest.

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