Myrtle Wilson appears in striking contrast to her husband. Although she does not possess the ethereal qualities of Daisy, in fact, she appears very much of the earth, she does possess a decided sensuality, as well a degree of ambition and drive that is conspicuously absent in her husband. After a few attempts at social niceties showing that Myrtle, despite being trapped in a dead-end lifestyle, aspires in some sense to refinement and propriety , Nick and Tom leave, with the understanding that Myrtle will soon join them to travel into the city to the apartment that Tom keeps for just such purposes.
It is worth noting, however, that Myrtle rides in a different train car from Tom and Nick, in accordance with Tom's desire to pander, in this small way, to the "sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train.
He is bold about his affair, not worrying that Daisy knows, but he sees the need to put up a pretense on the train, as if that one small gesture of discretion makes up for all the other ways in which he flaunts his affairs. As soon as the group arrives in New York, Myrtle shows herself to be not nearly as nondescript as is her husband.
She is, however, far from refined, despite how she may try. At the apartment in New York, after "throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood," Myrtle undergoes a transformation. By changing her clothes she leaves behind her lower-class trappings, and in donning new clothes she adopts a new personality.
She invites her sister and some friends to join the afternoon's party, but her motivation for doing so goes beyond simply wanting to enjoy their company. Her intent is largely to show off what she has gained for herself through her arrangement. It is irrelevant to Myrtle that what she has gained comes through questionable means; clearly, for her and Tom, too , the morality of infidelity is not an issue. Her affair with Tom allows her to gain something she wants — money and power — and therefore it can be justified.
As Nick describes, when Myrtle changes her clothes, she exchanges her earlier "intense vitality" clearly a positive and refreshing attribute for "impressive hauteur" a decidedly unappealing quality invoking Nick's respect and disgust simultaneously. While entertaining, Myrtle comes across as perceiving herself to be superior, although that isn't hard to do, given the people with whom she surrounds herself.
The McKees, for instance, are trying desperately to be accepted by the upper class, but are really shallow, dull people. McKee, despite his attempts to be seen as an artist, is conventional even boring in his photography. He skill is technical, at best, rather than artistic, as he would have people believe, as evidenced by the completely unoriginal titles he gives his photos — 'Montauk Point — the Gulls' and 'Montauk Point — the Sea.
As Myrtle has more and more to drink, she becomes increasingly belligerent, ordering people about and assuming a false sense of social superiority, casually offering derogatory comments about various types of people — in many ways, mirroring Tom's sense of social superiority. By this point she sees herself not only as superior to her guests, she is Tom's equal. All this changes, however, when Tom brutally reminds her of her place in his life.
After bringing up Daisy's name, Tom and Myrtle stand "face to face, discussing in impassioned voices whether Mrs. Wilson had any right to mention Daisy's name. The shocking violence of this incident is calculated and underscores a nastier side of life that most people would like to ignore. Through Tom's assault, Fitzgerald not only demonstrates more about Tom and his callousness toward humanity, but also suggests a hidden side to the Jazz Age. Although most people associate good times and carefree abandon with the reverie of the s, Fitzgerald suggests a much darker side.
Tom is a decidedly unpleasant man, held in check by very few rules. The reader must wonder, if he is capable of this sort of violence, what else is he capable of? In just the second chapter of the book, Fitzgerald is already showing the seedy side to a supposedly charmed life. The incident piques the reader's interest, shocking and appalling as it is, making the reader wonder to what depths this society will fall — in the book and in real life, as well.
Outside the Buchanans', Nick bumps into Gatsby who asks if there was trouble on the road. Nick recounts what he has seen. After asking a few questions, Nick learns Daisy, not Gatsby, was driving at the time. Gatsby, however, in true chivalric fashion, says he'll take the blame. The chapter ends with Gatsby, the paragon of chivalry and lost dreams, remaining on vigil outside Daisy's house, in case she needs assistance dealing with Tom, while Nick heads back to West Egg.
Everything The Great Gatsby has been building toward intersects in this very important chapter. All of the paths, once loosely related at best, now converge — forcefully and fatally. The turbulence of Chapter 7 gives clear indications of what Gatsby, Daisy, Tom, and even Nick are about. Unfortunately, for three of the four, the revelations are complementary.
As the weather of the novel becomes increasingly hotter and more oppressive, Fitzgerald finally gets to the heart of the love triangle between Gatsby, Daisy, and Tom, but lets it speak poorly of all the participants. Nick, alone, comes out of this chapter looking stronger. Like all the other characters, he has been tested in this chapter, but much to his credit, he grows and develops in a positive way.
This chapter put Gatsby and Tom side-by-side. While this happened briefly in Chapter 6, here the two men take each other on, head-to-head. Tom can no longer deny that Gatsby and Daisy are having an affair specifics about that affair are, however, sketchy. The only item of significance is that the affair is an extension of Gatsby's dream and it leads him to the destruction of the dream and of himself.
Within hours of learning of his wife's indiscretions, Tom learns that in addition to perhaps losing his wife, he is most certainly losing his mistress. This double loss enrages Tom and he strikes violently at the man he perceives as being responsible — a man who is, in his eyes, a low-class hustler, a bootlegger who will never be able to distance himself from his past.
In Tom's elitist mind, Gatsby is common and therefore his existence is meaningless: He comes from ordinary roots and can never change that. By chapter's end, Gatsby has been fully exposed. Gone are the mysterious rumors and the self-made myth. Stripped of all his illusions, he stands outside Daisy's house, vulnerable and tragically alone. Although he begins the chapter with his customary Gatsby dignity, when he comes up against Tom's hardness, the illusion of Jay Gatsby comes tumbling down.
In all of Gatsby's years of dreaming, he never once suspected that he might not have his way as is the nature of dreaming; one never dreams of having people stand in the way, preventing fantasies from coming true. As soon as Gatsby has to contend with people whose parts he can't script, he's at a loss. Instead, he will try, at all costs, to hold on to his dream.
It is, in a sense, the only thing that is real to him. Without it sadly , he is no longer able to define himself; therefore, the dream must be maintained at all costs even when the dream has passed its prime.
The best example of Gatsby's last-chance efforts to save his dream come after he tries to get Daisy to admit she never loved Tom. When she admits to having actually loved Tom, Gatsby, unwilling to give up, pushes the situation forward, abruptly telling Tom "Daisy's leaving you. By following Tom's command, the lovers, in effect, admit defeat and Gatsby's dream disintegrates. In addition to getting the real scoop on Gatsby, one also sees the real Daisy.
She has relatively few lines, but what she utters, and later what she does, changes her persona forever. Whereas in the previous chapters she has come off as shy and sweet, a little vapid, but decidedly charming, here, there is a bit more depth to her — but what lies beneath the surface isn't necessarily good.
Daisy's reasons for having an affair with Gatsby aren't at all the same reasons he is in love with her. By boldly kissing Gatsby when Tom leaves the room early in Chapter 7, then declaring "You know I love you" loudly enough for all to hear much to Jordan and Nick's discomfiture Daisy has, in effect, shown that to her, loving Gatsby is a game whose sole purpose is to try and get back at Tom. She's playing the game on her own terms, trying to prove something to her husband her response to Tom's rough questioning later at the hotel also supports this idea.
The other early vision of Daisy is of the peacekeeper although one wonders why she would want Tom and Gatsby both at the same outing. On the hot summer day, it is Daisy who suggests they move the party to town largely in an attempt to keep everyone happy.
Strange things, however, always happen in the city — in the land of infinite possibilities. By changing the location, the action also shifts. As the chapter continues and the party moves to the neutral, yet magical, land of the city, the real Daisy begins to emerge, culminating in her fateful refusal to be part of Gatsby's vision.
He tells him he went for five months after the war as part of a scheme for American officers. Gatsby tells Tom that Daisy is in love with him and she only married Tom because he was wealthy. Daisy cannot say she has never loved Tom. Gatsby says she is leaving Tom for him. Tom then makes more specific allegations about Gatsby — that he sold alcohol in drug stores in New York and Chicago with Meyer Wolfshiem remember the novel is set during Prohibition , as well as being involved in gambling.
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