The Great Gatsby Monologues

A writer and wall street trader, Nick, finds himself drawn to the past and lifestyle of his millionaire neighbor, Jay Gatsby.

In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice. "Always try to see the best in people," he would say. As a consequence, I'm inclined to reserve all judgements. But even I have a limit.

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 farther… And one fine morning - So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Jay! They're a rotten crowd. You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.

I was always glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever paid him.

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy. They smashed up things and people, and then retreated back into their money and their vast carelessness.

Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope.

His Smile was one of those rare smiles that you may come across four or five times in life. It seem to understand you and believe in you just as you would love to be understood and believed in.

Thirty. The promise of a decade of loneliness. The formidable stroke of 30 died away as Gatsby and Daisy drove on thought the cooling twilight - towards death.

Possibly, it had occurred to Gatsby that the colossal significance of that light had vanished forever. Now it was once again just a green light on a dock and his count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

Stocks reached record peaks, and Wall Street boomed a steady golden roar. The parties were bigger, the shows were broader, the buildings were higher, the morals were looser, and the ban on alcohol had backfired. Making the liquor cheaper. Wall Street was luring the young and ambitious, and I was one of them.

I remember how we had all come to Gatsby's and guessed at this corruption while he stood before us concealing and incorruptible dream…

Gatsby's real name was James Gatz. His parents were dirt-poor farmers from North Dakota, but he never accepted them as his parents at all. In his own imagination, he was a son of God, destined for future glory.

The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time. In its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world. Anything can happen, now that we have slid over this bridge, I thought. Anything at all. Even Gatsby could happen.