Author Archives: John Penek

Double Dash on the Last Page of Gatsby

I would like to revisit the last page of The Great Gatsby, specifically the portion when Fitzgerald invokes Nick to end the piece. The phrase before the last sentence is is as follows: “And one fine morning——” (189). The imagery is incredibly strong here and I find it easy to imagine the end of a movie production when the narrator ties up all the loose ends. Moreover, I paid great notice to the fact there are two long dashes, rather than just one. Grammatically, the double dash makes no difference. That said, I think Fitzgerald’s inclusion of the double dash is more stylistic. For a novel that is centered around water (water is what separates, and thus keeps balance between West Egg and East Egg; it is also Gatsby’s mode of death), I think these double dashes lend hand to an aquatic theme. If I remember correctly, Carraway speaks this quotation as he looks over what is described to be the Long Island Sound. I think having two dashes mimics the wave-like quality of the water and how just like time, the waves keep coming and going no matter what. Time goes on forever. This eternal theme appropriately premises the last sentence about humans constantly being “borne back ceaselessly into the past” (189).

Does anyone have a similar interpretation?

Symbolism of the Mantlepiece Clock in Gatsby

A small detail that I would like to revisit from the last reading (that we did not get to in class), occurs in the scene when Gatsby attempts to act suave in front of Daisy but instead leans back and hits the mantle. In doing so, he nudges a “mantelpiece clock” onto the floor (87). This clock shatters and embodies the awkward confrontation that occurs between Gatsby and Daisy.

I bring up this detail because I would like to pose the question of whether we think there is deeper meaning to the object (specifically the clock) that Gatsby knocks off the mantle. Is it a reference to Gatsby’s warped perception of time— something he thinks can be repeated? Or is it more so a reference to Gatsby’s reliance on time and time’s ultimate failure at returning him the love he once had for Daisy? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Deliberate Loss of Readership In Cather’s O Pioneers!

 

In the first two pages of her 1913 novel O Pioneers!, Willa Cather utilizes a compositional risk that parallels her own style, an initial and deliberate loss of readership, with the antithetical nature of main characters Emil and heroine Alexandra Bergson. To begin, Cather introduces the small Nebraskan town of Hanover with “haphazard” descriptions and negative superlatives, suggesting an unsystematic setting, and imposing an immediate loss of readership (Cather 1). A statement that “none of the dwelling-houses had any appearance of permanence” features both a negative and passive introductory clause and the awkward phrase of “dwelling-houses,” which both purposefully and riskily establish the “two uneven rows” of Hanover, Nebraska, as a shabby scene worth un-reading (1). This description, however awkward and cringe-worthy it may seem, appropriately premises the dreary description of the town, and continues during the introduction of Emil Bergson: the “clumsy, crying Swede boy” (1). Visual imagery complements a tattered image of the Bergson brother with details about his “cap pulled over his ears; his nose and his chubby cheeks chapped with cold” (1). This segue to Emil is quick and clean, and thus Cather’s initial loss of readership is not crude and embarrassing, but rather strategic in its parallel to its character introduction.

Out of nowhere, and perhaps even more strategically, Cather invokes another character: Emil’s sister Alexandra Bergson, and with the aptness of this unexpected introduction, Cather regains her readership. Resolute diction begins to introduce Alexandra as a “tall, strong girl;” all while structurally, Cather’s sentences become more active with verbs that “walk intently” across the page (2). In an interactive scene in which Alexandra “stop[s] short” and “stoop[s] down” to “wipe” her brother’s “wet face,” Cather amalgamates these two images—one haphazard and unkempt and one strong and resolute—in order to ferment an antithetical brother-sister relationship. In a novel that traces the dual nature of familial relationships of Swedish-American immigrants at the turn of the 20th century, perhaps it is this inverted and parallel designation to a relationship that foreshadows the family’s strife with death, inheritance, and social norms. Only time will tell. As for now, it is safe to say that Cather’s forthright invocation of Emil, Alexandra, and what seems to be a deliberate loss of author-credibility, proves to strategically and more meaningfully distinguish her setting and characters.