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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 6, Página 2
I
suppose
he
had
the
name
ready
for
a
long
time,
even
then.
His
parents
were
aimless,
unsuccessful
farmers—he
never
truly
accepted
them
as
his
parents.
The
truth
was
that
Jay
Gatsby
of
West
Egg,
Long
Island,
emerged
from
his
ideal
vision
of
himself.
He
was
a
son
of
God—a
phrase
which,
if
it
means
anything,
means
just
that—and
he
had
to
be
about
His
Father’s
business,
serving
a
vast,
vulgar,
and
flashy
beauty.
So
he
created
the
kind
of
Jay
Gatsby
a
seventeen-year-old
boy
might
invent,
and
he
remained
faithful
to
this
vision
until
the
end.
For
over
a
year,
he
had
been
making
his
way
along
the
south
shore
of
Lake
Superior
as
a
clam-digger
and
salmon-fisher
or
in
any
job
that
provided
food
and
shelter.
His
body,
tanned
and
hardening,
naturally
adapted
to
the
half-fierce,
half-relaxed
work
of
those
invigorating
days.
He
knew
women
early,
and
since
they
spoiled
him,
he
became
contemptuous
of
them,
of
young
virgins
because
they
were
naive,
and
of
others
because
they
were
hysterical
about
things
he
took
for
granted.
But
his
heart
was
in
constant,
turbulent
chaos.
The
most
bizarre
and
fantastic
ideas
haunted
him
at
night.
A
universe
of
indescribable
gaudiness
spun
in
his
mind
while
the
clock
ticked
on
the
washstand
and
the
moonlight
soaked
his
tangled
clothes
on
the
floor.
Each
night
he
added
to
the
pattern
of
his
fantasies
until
sleep
enveloped
some
vivid
scene
with
an
oblivious
embrace.
For
a
while,
these
dreams
provided
an
outlet
for
his
imagination;
they
hinted
at
the
unreality
of
reality,
suggesting
that
the
world’s
foundation
was
securely
set
on
a
fairy’s
wing.
An
instinct
for
future
glory
led
him,
months
before,
to
the
small
Lutheran
College
of
St.
Olaf’s
in
southern
Minnesota.
He
stayed
there
for
two
weeks,
discouraged
by
its
harsh
indifference
to
the
drums
of
his
destiny,
to
destiny
itself,
and
hating
the
janitorial
work
he
had
to
do
to
pay
his
way.
Then
he
drifted
back
to
Lake
Superior,
still
searching
for
something
to
do
when
Dan
Cody’s
yacht
anchored
in
the
shallows
nearby.
Cody
was
fifty
then,
a
product
of
the
Nevada
silver
fields,
the
Yukon,
and
every
metal
rush
since
seventy-five.
The
Montana
copper
deals
that
made
him
a
millionaire
found
him
physically
strong
but
mentally
slipping,
and,
suspecting
this,
countless
women
tried
to
separate
him
from
his
wealth.
The
unsavory
ways
Ella
Kaye,
the
newspaper
woman,
played
Madame
de
Maintenon
to
his
weakness
and
sent
him
to
sea
on
a
yacht
were
well-known
in
the
sensational
journalism
of
1902.
He
had
been
coasting
along
too
welcoming
shores
for
five
years
when
he
became
James
Gatz’s
destiny
in
Little
Girl
Bay.
To
young
Gatz,
resting
on
his
oars
and
looking
up
at
the
yacht’s
deck,
it
represented
all
the
beauty
and
glamour
in
the
world.
I
imagine
he
smiled
at
Cody—he
likely
knew
by
then
that
people
liked
him
when
he
smiled.
At
any
rate,
Cody
asked
him
a
few
questions
(one
of
which
revealed
his
new
name)
and
found
him
quick
and
extravagantly
ambitious.
A
few
days
later,
he
took
him
to
Duluth
and
bought
him
a
blue
coat,
six
pairs
of
white
duck
trousers,
and
a
yachting
cap.
And
when
the
Tuolomee
set
off
for
the
West
Indies
and
the
Barbary
Coast,
Gatsby
went
along.
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El Gran Gatsby — B2 Inglés | Cuentana