Adapted from this online slideshowthis online slideshow

colors eyes (vision) wasteland sunlight / shadows death time

 Chapter 1  The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now reflected with gold  Chapter 5  An hour later the front door opened nervously and Gatsby in a white flannel suit, silver shirt, and gold tie hurried in.  His bedroom was the simplest room of all – except where the dresser was garnished with a toilet set of pure dull gold.  Chapter 6  “Go ahead,” answered Daisy genially, “and if you want to take down any addresses here’s my little gold pencil.”

 wealth  reward / honor  luck  sunshine  wisdom  spiritual illumination (think halos)

Daisy High in a white palace the king’s daughter, the golden girl… What does white imply? What thoughts does “king’s daughter” invoke? How about “golden girl”? She shares her name with a flower. What does that imply?

 Chapter 1  Involuntarily I glanced seaward – and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away.  Chapter 4  Sitting down behind many layers of glass in a sort of green leather conservatory we started to town.  Chapter 5  Gatsby: “You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock.”  Now it was again a green light on a dock.  Chapter 7  In the sunlight his face was green.  Chapter 9  Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes us.

 money  jealousy  nature  life / vitality  amateur status  give the “green light”

lavender blue pink bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender a new one, lavender - colored with grey upholstery of romances that were not musty and laid away already in lavender hope sprang into [Wilson’s] light blue eyes in [Gatsby’s] blue gardens a uniform of robin’s egg blue a pink and gold billow of foamy clouds above the sea a pink glow from Daisy’s room [Gatsby] wears a pink suit

sadness 1 st prize “It’s a boy!” (masculinity) “It’s a girl!” (femininity) Breast Cancer Awareness royalty bravery (Purple Heart) mystery love & affection

 Chapter 1  Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face (Tom)  Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth (Daisy)  Her grey sun strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming discontented face. (Jordan)  Chapter 5  I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from [Daisy’s] well-loved eyes.  Chapter 7  Now I was looking at it again through Daisy’s eyes. It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment.  Her frightened eyes told whatever intentions, whatever courage she had, were definitely gone.

 Chapter 2  The eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic – their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but instead from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose.  Chapter 7  I turned my head as if I had been warned by something behind. Over the ashheaps the giant eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg kept their vigil.  Then as Doctor T.J. Eckleburg’s faded eyes came into sight down the road…  Chapter 8  Standing behind [George], Michaelis saw with a shock that he was looking at the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg which had just emerged pale and enormous from the dissolving night.  “God sees everything,” repeated Wilson.

 Chapter 3  A stout middle-aged man with enormous owl eyed spectacles was sitting somewhat drunk on the edge of a great table, staring with unsteady concentration at the shelves of books… “Absolutely real – have pages and everything”  “Don’t ask me,” said Owl Eyes, washing his hands of the whole matter.  Chapter 9  Owl Eyes spoke to me at the gate. “I couldn’t get into the house,” he remarked. “Neither could anybody else.”  “Why, my God! They used to go there by the hundreds.” He took off his glasses and wiped them again outside in. “The poor son-of-a--,” he said.

 the landscape  About halfway between the West Egg and New York the motor- road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile so as to shrink away from a certain desolate piece of land. This is a valley of ashes – a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens, where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke.  Then the valley of ashes opened out on both sides of us.  the characters  They were carless people, Tom and Daisy – they smashed up things and creatures and then repeated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.  Gatsby  No – Gatsby turned out all right in the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreamed that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive shadows and short-winded elations of men.

 For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened – then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.  We slid out from the mass of the station into the glowing sunshine.  Over the great bridge, with sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars…  Gatsby got himself into a shadow.  It occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind.  When he realized what I was talking about, that there were twinkle-bells of sunshine in the room, he smiled like a weatherman.  The room, shadowed well with awnings, was dark and cool.

 A dead man passed us in a hearse heaped with blossoms, followed by two carriages with drawn blinds and by more cheerful carriages for friends.  Myrtle’s body was wrapped in a blanket and then in another blanket as though she suffered from a chill in the hot night lay on a work table by a wall.  The chauffeur – he was one of Wolfsheim’s protégés – heard the shots.  It was after we started with Gatsby toward the house that the gardener saw Wilson’s body a little way off in the grass, and the holocaust was complete.

 Chapter 1  In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind every since.  Chapter 2  All I kept thinking over and over was “You can’t live forever.”  Chapter 4  One October day in nineteen- seventeen… Chapter 5 Luckily the clock took this moment to tilt dangerously at the pressure of his head… He had been full of the idea so long, dreamed it right through to the end, waited with his teeth set… Now, in the reaction, he was running down like an overwound clock. Chapter 6 “Can’t repeat the past?” he cried incredulously. “Why, of course you can!”

Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors' eyes - a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby's house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's Wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night. Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further... And one fine morning – So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.