《了不起的盖茨比》片断赏析,第一章结尾部分,文本如下:
Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside
garages, where new red gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I
reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for
a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown
off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and
a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the
frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the
moonlight, and turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not
alone--fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my
neighbor's mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets
regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely
movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested
that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was
his of our local heavens.
I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and
that would do for an introduction. But I didn't call to him, for he gave
a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone--he stretched out his
arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him,
I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward--and
distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away,
that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby
he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.