How Is Daisy Like A Flower In The Great Gatsby The Great Gatsby – Is Nick Carraway Gay?

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The Great Gatsby – Is Nick Carraway Gay?

IN The Great Gatsby Scott Fitzgerald presents a study of wealth and ambition through the prism of pathetic characters for whom almost no socially redeeming values ​​can be found.

What The Great Gatsby portrays is a pitiful tale of a small group of weak characters involved in cheating, adultery, fraud and debauchery. The lavish parties – in the style of the Jazz Age – that Jay Gatsby throws to recover Daisy Buchanan (his lost illusions and perfidious lover) are anything but wild bacchanalia.

When we think about the rest of the nation, we can be relieved to see that the rest of Americans are engaged in productive enterprise, in rebuilding the nation after the waste of resources like World War I. The nastiness of the story relates, almost entirely, to that small group of marginal, deluded and unpleasant characters. It is not a book about the spiritual dismemberment of America (as many interpreted the book) that occurred in 1927 with the Great Depression.

While in Ernest Hemingway’s short story “The Assassins” we experience the objective voice of a disinterested narrator, in The Great Gatsby we are duped by the ruthless biases of Nick Carraway, a likeable character — and narrator — who not only has an interesting story to tell, but also an agenda. His agenda is a list of things that “need to be cleaned up”, events that need to be ironed out, and guilty consciences that need to be purged. In a similar fashion to the Confessions written by Augustine, Rousseau, and Ben Franklin, Nick exacerbates the crimes and transgressions of others while obfuscating and downplaying his own.

From the very beginning of the narration, Nick Carraway makes it clear that the story he is about to tell is a very personal one and that he will be the protagonist. So, with these words: “In my younger and more vulnerable years…” he begins the story about himself and young people who are growing up, people who are currently in the phase of finding their own identity, searching for their identity. goals and a more certain future. It’s a generational story in which ambitious Doughboys – returned from World War II – compete for a place under the sun, competing for a place not in the tedium of poverty or disappointment, but for a share of the splendor in wealth and love.

Although Nick makes a calculated decision to go east to pursue a career on Wall Street, his heart moves him in a different direction; his heart is in literature, and he lets us know what his intentions are: “In college I had dabbled in literature—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the Yale News—and now I intended to bring all such things back into my life and again I become the most limited of all experts, a ‘well-rounded man'” (GG, 4).

Having attended Yale University, he rightly calls himself a ‘well-rounded man’ who is fully equipped with the experience, education and talent to become a writer.

As he begins the narrative, he even indulges in the author’s satisfaction that he even knows the title of his book: “Only Gatsby, the man who gave his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction.” (GG, 2). It also engages in moments of meta-narrative. When in the second book of Don Quixote the hero learns that he is the subject of false adventures by a false author, we can only enjoy the pleasures of meta-narrative. Nick Carraway also engages in bits of meta-narrative when we read that he reviews his work as he progresses with the writing:

“In reading what I have written so far, I see that I have given the impression that I was occupied only by the events of three nights at the interval of a few weeks. On the contrary, they were only passing events in a crowded summer, and till the full afterwards occupied me endlessly less than my personal belongings.” (GG, 56).

Indeed, they were just random events, but greatly intertwined with his personal life. Although Nick presents Gastby’s life as the main thread, his own autobiographical threads are woven into the fabric of the story.

While Meursault-Camus’s narrator is an absurd man Fr Stranger choosing stark, hallucinatory jargon to describe his alienation from the world, Nick Carraway chooses lyrical and often incantatory language to embellish the sordid world of low American tragedy.

Nick takes the licenses and reports backbiting, the narrator’s sin that threatens his credibility. What is disgusting is that in the end, Nick does not condemn his cousin Daisy, even though he is informed that Daisy was the driver on that fateful night, and that Daisy was killed by Myrtle Wilson (Tom’s lover). Was this really an accident? Or did Daisy actually run over Mrs. Wilson on purpose? We can only rely on Gatsby’s memory of the accident as he recounts it to Nick.

It is clear that Daisy was driving and was maneuvering to pass a car coming from the other side. What follows is Daisy trying to avoid hitting Myrtle for the first time, but she may change her mind and run over her when she recognizes Myrtle. After all, Myrtle Wilson had been a constant thorn in her side during the summer, causing her much pain, anxiety, and depression.

While Nick tells us that the investigation was, he omits to tell us that he did not testify, despite the fact that his truthful testimony would implicate his cousin Daisy. Nick is then an accomplice in covering up the crime he killed and got away with. Furthermore, on the night of the accident when Nick plays Tom peeping, he observes Daisy and Tom in a conspiratorial tete-a-tete:

“They weren’t happy, and neither of them touched the chicken or the beer – and yet they weren’t unhappy either. There was an unmistakable air of natural intimacy in the picture, and anyone would have said they were conspiring together.” (GG, 145).

In Garcia Marquez’s novel One hundred years of solitude, when Remedios the Beauty ascends to heaven, the reader accepts that fact because the woman in her simple mind never sees that her beauty hurts people; or even kill them. But when Nick Carraway paints Daisy as a Southern belle full of charm and innocence, it strikes a discordant note, because her actions belie it.

Is Nick gay or bisexual? Nick has a fixation on noses, and we see that surface beneath the text throughout the narrative, and the only way to break the habit is to actually “break” it violently, as Tom Buchanan does when he breaks his lover’s nose. Additionally, Daisy compares Nick to a flower: “Nick, you remind me of a rose, an absolute rose.” Is she implying that Nick is secretly gay? Well, Nick never pursues Jordan with the strength of a male in pursuit. There is also a scene where another man takes off his clothes.

During a reunion in New York, Nick meets Mr. McKee, a photographer: “Mr. McKee was a pale, effeminate man from the apartment below. He had just shaved, as there was a white foam patch on his cheekbone (30).” Afterwards, McKee takes Nick to his home where they spend the night. Nick later recalled, “I was standing next to his bed and he was sitting between the sheets, wearing his underwear.”

To confirm McKee’s homosexuality, and thus Nick’s, we see a phallic image as the boy from the elevator warns “get your hands off the lever.” To which McKee replies “Please… I didn’t know I was touching him.” Did McKee touch the lever or the crane? At the beginning of the twentieth century, American literature had certain taboos that the author could approach and overcome only as the Jews conquered Jericho – around and with noise. The noise is carefully chosen code words and phallic images.

Can anyone imagine a heterosexual man obsessed with another man?:

“Mr. McKee was asleep in a chair with his fists clenched in his lap, like a man-of-action photograph. I took a handkerchief from his cheek and wiped the remains of the dried foam stain that had worried me all afternoon. .” (p.36)

Nick Carraway, the narrator, never admits to being a kind pimp. Nick rents his house in West Egg with a man, “when the young man in the office suggested that we take a house together in the commuting town, it sounded like a great idea. He found the house, a weather-beaten cardboard bungalow in the eighties, but in at the last moment the company ordered him to go to Washington, and I went to the country alone.” (p3).

If Nick isn’t gay, he’s bisexual: “I even had a brief fling with a girl who lived in Jersey City and worked in accounting, but her brother started throwing nasty looks in my direction, so when she went on her vacation in July I let to quietly blow away.” (p. 56).

And as he meanders through midtown Manhattan, he fantasizes: “I loved walking down Fifth Avenue and picking romantic women out of the crowd and imagining that in a few minutes I would walk into their lives without anyone ever knowing or disapproving. Sometimes I followed them in my mind to their apartments on the corners of a hidden street, and they turned and smiled back at me before disappearing through the door into the warm darkness.” (p. 56).

Note Nick’s self-examination that carries the despairing musings of old maids, spinsters, and old bachelors: “I was thirty. Before me stretched the malevolent, menacing path of a new decade (p. 135).” As he looks down the path of bachelorhood at this point in his life, Nick reflects on a life—probably a sex life only with single men: “Thirty—the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinner list of single men to know, a thinning briefcase of enthusiasm, thinning hair.” (p. 135). This is a poignant remark that confirms his loneliness and the way he will take solace in his bachelorhood.

Nick Carraway presents himself as a simple, inconspicuous and likeable character, who manages to gain the trust of friends and strangers. However, there is nothing simple about him. As his narrative progresses and as we get to know him better, we conclude that he is a complex character with many facets.

Although many sides of his personality are interesting, the reader cannot help but be misled by the moralistic predominance of his judgments. On the surface, Nick presents himself as the voice of measure, reason, and virtue, but as we scrutinize his deeper layers, we find a range of wild emotions, urges, desires, and irrationalities bordering on an unstable, sexually confused life, as he himself admits: “Behavior can be based on hard rock or wet swamps, but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s based on.” (GG, 2).

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