My Thoughts on Hamlet....

     To be honest, I really enjoy the tragedy of Hamlet. I think it's such a thrilling and exciting piece of literature. It's a story one can really sink their teeth into. I feel like the story never slows down and that's one is constantly finding new information out throughout that keeps adding to the drama till it all comes to a head in the last act. There are just so many twists and turns to the actual play that it keeps you on your toes till the very end. The whole plot is just gripping and the characters are so enthralling and upsetting at the same time. It's one of those stories where, throughout it, you keep picking characters you want to see end  up dying or characters you want to applaud and see conquer at the end. Of course, those opinions can also swap throughout the story which I also find is something that makes the story so enthralling. The characters really do make this story worth reading or checking out. Each one has their own story-lines and their own faults that add just the right amounts of drama throughout the whole of the play. They never seem to calm down. You can tell by reading the play that these characters are all passionate about everything they do. Every character serves a purpose, at least in my opinion.
    Now, for how we went about learning the play in class, I thought worked out well. I like reading plays in class in conjunction with watching it's movie. It gives us a visualization which I think is needed. Shakespeare's writing is a trouble spot for many students, myself included at times, so actually seeing what Shakespeare is saying brings a lot more understanding to the literature in my opinion. I think it's a must for any of Shakespeare's plays purely because the language content can create such a barrier for students. Plus, some students actually end up getting drawn to the play because the movie enthralls them and they want to know what will happen next. I think when that happens, a greater effort is put into trying to decipher the language. For example, I, despite many of my classmates opinions, enjoyed Kenneth Branaugh's interpretation of Hamlet. While we were reading through the play and watching it on the screen, I kept thinking to myself that some of his interpretations were spot on. They were just how I imagined them in my own head. I felt that he portrayed Hamlet perfectly. His mannerisms and whole body language just fit the character so well. I loved when he was going "crazy" and every that he said those lines. His facial expressions were amazingly accurate to me.
     For my favourite character, Ophelia, I also thought the Kate Winslet played a wonderful Ophelia. I just wish we could have done more with her character because I love her tragedy so much more than Hamlet's tragedy. Her character is what captures me every time. I loved how she was portrayed though and how she was shown to be a woman on a mission in the video (when she had the key hidden in her mouth even that's not in the original play). She actually does something about her grief: She drowns herself and she sings while she's dragged down beneath the blue of the brook. Hamlet whines and makes everything all about him until the very end of the play. Ophelia's death is mentioned in passing. We don't get a major scene devoted to her death and her sorrow. We only get a scene meant to hi-light her madness and presumably compare it to Hamlet's "madness." Ophelia's melancholy and sorrow actually drove her to action. The amount of inactivenss of Hamlet throughout the play is almost breaching excessiveness by the end. The lack of insight into Ophelia is my only problem with both the play and the movie.
     Now that I have finished my rant, let's go onto what I thought about what we did and are doing for Hamlet in class. I liked the Twitter mini-project we did for the play. I thought that was really interesting and made us get more interested in reading through the play so we could make our "tweets." I also, truly, love the blogging. I think it's a great way for us to relay our thoughts and questions about the play to our classmates and you (Mrs.Wats!). I thought all the deadlines for the blogs were also comfortable and give us enough time to get them done. I've never blogged for another class so I thought this blogging has been really interesting and a lot better than having to write essays every week in class about these topics you've given us for the blogs. And the playbills? I love this project! I love anything where we can implement our own "arts n' craftiness" into the lesson. I think this project really lets us get our say about the play and gets us thinking really about the characters.
     Overall, I felt like we really did learn and understand many different aspects of Hamlet through all of the different facets we did in class. I really like the projects we have done in order to learn about the play too (especially when I compare these projects to other ones I've done in prior English classes...these were much more painless to accomplish). I had a lot of fun reading through this play in conjunction with watching the movie. I felt like I understood and grasped the play much better and faster than I have understood plays I've done in other classes. Hamlet made sense earlier on leaving me with more time to delve into the characters and the plot of the play.

*P.S: sorry for posting late!

Mad...

    I must admit that I do not believe Hamlet's madness to be true. His manic disposition seems to be nothing more than a reaction to his father's undoubted murder. Hamlet is hurt and upset, and he processes these emotions in a way that comes across as madness to other characters. Thus far, he never seems to slip beneath the blue of the sea of manic depressive madness (which I feel he would undoubtedly experience in light of the circumstances of his father's death). He doesn't fall off the deep end and over the edge into a spiraling, all-consuming madness. Hamlet more or less, with great sorrow (I do not doubt the truth nor depth of his melancholy) mourns over the loss of his father. He does not rave like a the lunatic he is supposed to be.
     Hamlet is, to me, just a teenager filled with passion and rage with no outlet for it besides words. It's almost as though, as long as he keeps telling himself he'll avenge his father, it will be so and order will return to his world. He needs to continue to feed on that promise to himself and his father's ghost in order to not plunge into madness. He's quite sane actually in my opinion. Yes, revenge has consumed his thoughts but he still remains logical in how he goes about trying to extract this revenge. He does think before he acts. I believe that Polonius's murder was a mere accident as he thought Polonius to be Claudius. His apathy over it was more cold calculation. He never liked Polonius as he stole something precious from Hamlet: Ophelia. In Hamlet's mind, he rid the chess board in his head of one more loathsome piece.
     If that is the case, than Hamlet is still following close to his plot to out Claudius and extract vengeance for his father. That kind of cold calculation is more sociopathic as opposed to psychotic. He seems well aware of what he's doing, playing people like instruments and causing dissension through-out the palace. It's like it's a game to him. That's how I truly feel Hamlet is acting. He is quite the intelligent young man and I feel that he is going about his revenge like one would go about playing a game of chess or, more aptly, cat and mouse. He's getting a thrill out of playing at madness and causing Claudius grief while biding his time before he sends him to hell. Which, Hamlet's decision to make sure Claudius goes to purgatory I feel also supports the notion that Hamlet is only feigning madness and is quite in control of himself and his actions.
     Furthermore, when one compares Hamlet's "madness" to the massive break from reality that Ophelia has, I feel that there is no contest that Hamlet's madness is not quite true. Ophelia completely loses touch with reality after the forced purging of Hamlet from her life and the death of her father. She is bawling, melancholy mess. She falls apart. Hamlet never loses his wits about him and certainly does not fall to tiny, irreparable pieces as Ophelia does. He still shows poise and self-restraint where as Ophelia cannot seem to control her outbursts. She's broken. The loss of all the men in her life she loves and the soul-wrenching woe it breathes to life slashes her heart in two along with her mind and ends up literally drowning her in sorrow. She drowns in her own sorrow, a victim of her madness where as Hamlet appears to always be the master of his madness.
     Therefore, it is my conclusion that Hamlet's madness is merely feigned. He is not a victim of it. He has not succumbed to it as Ophelia has. He is in full reign of it, turning it on and off as he pleases in order to play the people around him as the pawns he sees them as in his head. He may be sociopathic, the way he disposes and treats people in his life, but I do feel he is quite aware of all he's doing. The death of Hamlet's father has not broken his mind, only his heart. He's acting out of passion. Well, I guess one would have to say he's speaking  out of passion as it seems he's never going to actually do anything about his grief.

***Just got back from seeing The Raven movie and it was quite worth the watch.***

Love?...

     "Doubt thou the stars are fire

Doubt that the sun doth move

Doubt truth to be a liar

But never doubt I love..."

To my dearest Ophelia,

     I have never given credence to that old notion that "absence makes the heart grow fonder," but since your speedy departure from my life, I have reconsidered. I never thought I'd miss your bright blue eyes, nor your fiery hair, nor, in fact, that rosy blush that would set your ever-fair cheeks alight. I've never known it's absence it seems. It has become apparent as of late that I took your presence for granted.

     Oh my dear, I cannot even accurately articulate in words just how hollow my heart is and how opaque my life has become without you in it. Ophelia, you were, no, you are the light in my life. And, I need your phosphorescence in my life right now to guide me through these ever-darkening twists and turns my existence has taken over these past few months since my father's untimely demise and my aunt-mother's never-timely marriage to my uncle-father.

     Dearheart, that you have so seemingly so easily cut me out of your life brings a sickness to my heart that I must aptly call a poison for which there is no cure, for it is slowly sucking the life from me. This severing of contact between you and me is slicing into my soul, slowly severing it in half. Ophelia, my heart aches for you and is calling out for you. I cannot recall to you how many times I have woken from dreams filled with nothing but your creamy skin, dream-blue eyes, and pouty lips beyond extacy only to succumb to utter despair with your absence. It leaves my heart feeling shattered, smashed into innumerable tiny shards for which I've tried to pick up only to cut my hands on their sharp edges, leaving me a bloody mess and a heart still in shambles. I cannot repair this heart of mine...without your gentle touch.

     My dear, why have you forsaken me? My thoughts wander back to every cherished (at least they are in my mind) moment we've stolen, rolling over them time and time again, and I cannot for the life of me discover what might have wrested you so far away from me, from my arms which have only ever held you so tenderly. In fact, every moment we've stolen away from the chaotic precepts that our lives have been stitched from, floats around my mind constantly replaying, leaving me sometimes in a daze for days. I feel as though I've woken from a fog sometimes only to become alerted to the knowledge that I have been sitting at that window for hours, or staring at that same page of book for almost a day's time.

     Ophelia, my dear sweet dove, without you, my existence is lesser. I feel disconnected from the earth as though I am slowly floating off it toward the stars that remind me of your eyes. I have come to understand that I need your gentle touch to keep me tethered to the ground. I am slowly flying away without you in my life to hold me down and my heart is slowly bleeding away without you here to put just the right amount of pressure on it to hault the bleeding, so it may heal. That you deny me Ophelia has, for all intensive purposes, driven me closer to the edge of what? I do not know but I feel as though I am standing on the precipice of something, possibly a blade's edge, and I will fall over to one side very soon.

     I miss you Ophelia. Please, please, do not spur my advances. Please come and see me before it is too late and I forget entirely what your presence feels like. Please come to me before I float away from this realm entirely, before I float away from you entirely.

     Yours Truly,

Hamlet 

   Inspiration Song:

(This song actually has the quote from the very beginning in it!)

*Opheliac - By: Emilie Autumn*

(She is one of my favourite artists of all time and in fact writes many beautifully macabre pieces inspired my Ophelia and other tragedies.)

Hamlet & Ophelia: Before the Tragedy

*Just a Glimpse*

"It's such a beautiful lake, Hamlet."

"Nay tis' one of many lakes we've seen, Ophelia. Tis' one of many you've called fair."

"But this one is truly the most breath-taking. I would die happy if it were but the only sight I ever saw again. To die surrounded by that beautiful blue as the water turned me so blue too..."

"Now Ophelia, hush such morbid frivolity. I will not suffer to hear you say it. You shall not die by this water's edge nor any others, my fair lady."

"Hamlet, I meant no offense for your ears to suffer. Nay, I was letting my inner thoughts flood out of my mouth. My apologies for letting them escape so."

"Tis alright my dearest Ophelia, but my ears would rather delight in more sweet-nothings pouring off from your perfectly pouty lips than such macabre musings." Hamlet said so tenderly as he brushed a lock of Ophelia's curly, long red hair back behind her ear before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

"You tease me, sir." Ophelia smiled at Hamlet's look of indignation. "That was surely not a kiss."

"And that be this fair lady's verdict? The Judge of "The Court of Kisses" you are?"

"Judge and jury, yes. This fair lady knows a kiss whens it's pressed upon her lips and that was surely sub-par at best my humble prince." Ophelia said as her face broke into an even more dazzling smile, unable to keep a straight face. Her fair-haired prince on the other hand had no such problems as to keeping up the charade.

"Fair lady you call yourself? When you've known the touch of a man's lips upon your own? I think not! Best get thee to a nunnery now before word gets around." said the prince, keeping up his character.

"You tease too much, sir!" she said as she turned her back to him and crossed her arms across her chest. She stared towards the lake that resembled mirrored glass from high atop the grassy, windswept hill she stood on with her handsome prince. Her hair blew freely with the wind.
Long, heavily-clothed arms wrapped around her middle as the prince's head came to rest upon her shoulder. She tried to squirm out of his hold but he held firm until she relented. He took her hands in his own and interlaced their fingers together across her middle. She nuzzled him in their embrace.

"I could say the same of you Ophelia, after last night. 'You tease too much', but I do not wish to fall into your bad graces. Not while we're on leave, just the two of us." Hamlet whispered in her ear before pressing a kiss to her temple. Ophelia returned his gentle words by turning in their embrace and pressing a long, but not particularly searing, kiss to his lips. Their foreheads touched as they both smile at each other.

"Right as always, Hamlet. I do not wish to fight with you during our short times alone together." she said as she pulled her head back to look into his handsome, smiling face. Her smile turned mischievous as she said, "Though don't expect any respite from my teasing tonight after what you said to me." She pressed a pointed finger into his chest.

"And what, pray tell, did I utter that particularly offended you my dear?" he said with a smirk.

"Nunnery Hamlet? Really? exasperation deeply coating her usually silky voice. " What, pray tell, is with you and that place? Always mentioning it and such. Me thinks you would not enjoy it if I were to show up to our bedroom covered head to toe in nun regalia."

"Contrary, my dear. Me thinks I would enjoy it very, very much." Hamlet said with such a pronounced smirk and mirth to Ophelia's befuddled face. "Corrupting a fair "maiden" such as you would be my pleasure." Ophelia's confused face suddenly donned a look of recognition as her perfectly pouty lips formed a perfect 'O'.
She hit at his chest as he laughed heartily trying to break free from his hold and he let her. She only walked away a couple of steps before he took hold of her hand again, interlocking their fingers.

"Why I never-" Ophelia started before Hamlet interrupted.

"I wouldn't say that my lady." he said as she tried to break free from his hold once again. "And, for that I'm very grateful." he said taking both of her hands in his. Neither could look into the others eyes without laughing.

"I think it best we make our way back towards the cottage. Do you?" Hamlet asked his red-headed beauty as he tucked her under his arm while they started walking in the direction of the cottage. Ophelia shook her head in agreement, while pulling her long coat closed tighter and snuggling closer to Hamlet's warm chest.
Though, she stopped after only walking a few paces to turn her head back towards the lake for one more glimpse of it's reflective surface.

"Constance Lake is so beautiful, Hamlet. And, Germany tis not that far. Surely your father will allow for more visits here?"

"Almost as surely as your father will grant you more leave to visit your new, charming German lady-friend, Henrietta." Hamlet said with a wry smile causing Ophelia to chuckle.

"Yes, my father is quite fond of the idea of me having a connection here in Germany."

"If your father really knew what connecting was happening here in Germany, I doubt he'd be so pleased."

"Hamlet!" Ophelia admonished with a slap to his chest. He laughed quite heartily as they continued their walk to their cottage.

"First the nun remark Hamlet and now that! Your mind is quite far off the beaten path, sir. Quite in the gutter if I'm being frank."

"You ask me why I keep bringing up nunneries and the like. You can't let it go once I mention it. That is why."

"Quite off the point, sir."

"No more off point than your remark of dieing by this water's edge. Why does it seem that anytime water is brought up, your mind wanders almost exactly to your own demise. my sweet? Water and Death are not synonymous sweetheart...only in your mind it seems they are."

"I believe I apologized for my earlier transgression upon your ears dear. And for the record, I do not think the two things synonymous. You just always happen to take me to places where there is some large body of water. I believe it's continuous mention is your fault Hamlet." she said with another pointed finger to his chest.

"Blame me not fair lady." he said as he pulled her closer to himself. "You've always loved the water. I do hope you get your wish to die close to where you love. Though, not too soon I hope. Delayed gratification and all that nonsense." he told her with a lopsided grin and a tug at a wisp of her hair. She grinned back at him.

"I would say, 'As you wish, Hamlet.' but said decision is out of my control." she breathed the crisp, cool air, laden with the water's scent, deep into her lungs. "As I've always merely said Hamlet, if it were up to me, it seems like a beautiful way to go."

*Let me know what you think. ^.^*

*Inspiration Song: What the Water Gave Me by: Florence and the Machine



Chapter 9: Minor Characters...

Well, what do you know? My last post for Gatsby....

*Michaelis:
--He remains with Wilson at the end of Chapter 8 for some time but then leaves back to his home only to come back to check on him again and discover that he wasn't there anymore. And, we find out he went and killed Gatsby because he thought he killed his wife Myrtle, and then he killed himself too.
--Michaelis attempts to comfort Wilson as best he can but, despite them being neighbors for presumably some time, he doesn't really know much, if anything, personal about him.
>> "Michaelis didn't see anything odd in that and he gave Wilson a dozen reasons why his wife might have bought the dog leash." (pg.166) i.e: one of many attempts to comfort Wilson
--He then listens to Wilson tell him all about how he's going to find the man who killed Myrtle as well as listens to Wilson ramble on about the all knowing eyes of T.J Eckleberg (i.e: "God").         
--After Wilson disappears and murders Gatsby, the police question Michaelis about Wilson.
>> "The police, on the strength of what he said to Michaelis, that he 'had a way of finding out,' supposed that he spent that time going from garage to garage thereabouts inquiring for a yellow car." (pg.168)
--He is only mentioned briefly in the beginning of Chapter 9.
>> "When Michaelis's testimony at the inquest brought to light Wilson's suspicions of his wife I thought the whole tale would shortly be served up in racy pasquinade..." (pg.171)
--So other than keeping Wilson company as he slowly fell into grief-driven madness, Michaelis didn't really play any other major parts in the end of the book. Perhaps if he had been with Wilson all through-out the night, perhaps if they had been better neighbors and had felt they could rely on each other in times of grief and tragedy, than maybe the book would have ended differently but, who's to know?

*Meyer Wolfsheim:
--Nick sends word to Wolfsheim of Gatsby's death and upcoming funeral but other than a letter of brief condolences and a long list of excuses as to why he cannot get mixed up in the mess right now, Wolfsheim really shows no signs of being greatly touched by the death.
>> "Let me know about the funeral etc do not know his family at all." (pg.174)
--That's incredibly impersonal but it seems as was the case with many people who "knew" Gatsby. Maybe if Gatsby weren't so obsessed with getting the past he had with Daisy back, he'd of realized how lonely his life truly was. He was always surrounded by people but he never could call a single one of them "friends."
--Nick goes into NYC to see him and is told by Wolfsheim's secretary that he went to Chicago but big surprise, at the mention of Gatsby, Wolfsheim's appears from the back of the building. He says he "made" Gatsby what he was and that he knew he could "use him good."
>> " 'We were thick like that in everything-' He held up two bulbous fingers '-always together' " (pg.179)
--So close, but he refused to come to his funeral.
>> " 'I can't do it-I can't get mixed up in in,' he said' " (pg.180)
>>" 'Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead,' he suggested. 'After that my own rule is to let everything alone.' " (pg.180)
--Absolutely disgraceful but hey, he's a 1920's gangster! He didn't get to live so long doing what he does by making friends and crying at their funerals, right? He's worried for his own skin. Who can blame him for that?

*Owl Eyes:
--Surprisingly he makes an appearance in this chapter, during the funeral scene. He came running up to the grave plot in the pouring rain.
>> "Dimly I heard someone murmur 'Blessed are the dead the rain falls on,' and then the owl-eyes man said 'Amen to that,' in a brave voice.
       We straggled down quickly through the rain to the cars. Owl Eyes spoke to me by the gate.
        'I couldn't get to the house,' he remarked.
        'Neither could anybody else.'
        'Go on!' He started. 'Why, my God! they used to go there by the hundreds.'
        He took off his glasses and wiped them again outside and in.
         "The poor son-of-a-bitch,' he said." (pg.183)
--I think he summed it up pretty well if I do say so myself. All those people would of made it to Gatsby's parties rain or shine, but nobody could be bothered to come to his funeral.

-Kelli <3

Chapter 8: Symbols...

Hello fellow group members! I was supposed to post over the weekend but I've been sick since yesterday, but I've got my post for you all today. Sorry for any inconveniences that may have caused. And wow people did a lot of stuff go down in Chapter 7!!

*Light:
--The beginning of this chapter starts off without much light at all. I found the darkness mentioned a few times there in the beginning.
>> "We pushed aside curtains that were like pavilions and felt over innumerable feet of dark wall for electric light switches..." (pg.154)
>> "Throwing open the French windows of the drawing room we sat smoking out into the darkness." (pg.155)
--Then he tells his story bout Daisy and we see some light com into the picture.
>> "Her porch was bright with the bought luxury of star-shine..." (pg.157)
--But not much because soon after Gatsby leaves for the War.
>> "Through this twilight universe Daisy began to move again with the season..." (pg.158)
--And back at the house:
>> "It was dawn now on Long Island and we went about opening the rest of the windows downstairs, filling the house with grey turning, gold turning light." (pg.159)
--At Wilson's garage we also see more light mentioned.
>> "About five o'clock it was blue enough outside to snap off the light." (pg.167)
I'm not sure exactly what was meant with this last mention of light at the garage so any ideas would be nice :)

*The Cars:
--When Gatsby talks about his time spent with Daisy, he mentions driving around to places in her white car. I believe this symbolizes the purity of the love the two of them shared at this time. Wealth didn't come between their relationship yet to change it's definition.
>> "He stayed there a week, walking the streets where their foot-steps had clicked together through the November night and revisiting the out-of-the-way places to which they had driven in her white car." (pg.160)
--This also occurred after Daisy had left with Tom. Gatsby was just coming back and revisiting all the places the two of them had been which I think strengthens the belief that the white car symbolizes their untainted love before everything else got into it and ruined it, making it a tainted yellow. I find it interesting that Gatsby and Daisy were driving together in a yellow car when they struck Myrtle. I think it shows what a giant mess their love has become.
--George Wilson mumbles on about the yellow car that struck Myrtle. He talks about how he has ways of figuring out who owns the car (pg.164). To him, all the car symbolizes is the death of his wife.

*Doctor T.J. Eckleburg:
>>" 'I spoke to her,' he muttered, after a long silence. 'I told her she might fool me but she couldn't fool God. I took her to the window-' with an effort he got up and walked to the rear window and leaned with his face pressed against it, '-and I said 'God knows what you've been doing, everything you've been doing. You may fool me but you can't fool God!' ' " (pg.167)
>>"Standing behind him 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." (pg.167)
--Michaelis told Wilson it was just an advertisement but even he had to turn away from the billboard after looking at it for a few minutes.
--The eyes obviously represent "God" watching over what people are doing. I think it's placement in the Valley of Ashes makes sense as it's the place everyone has to pass in order to get to NYC or back to the Eggs. You have to pass by these eyes in order to do either. You can't escape judgement. You can't totally escape from your sins without being seen by at least one pair of eyes.

-Kelli <3

Chapter 6: Themes...

"The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself." -pg.104

**Doesn't really relate to the rest of the post but I wanted to add it in***
So in this chapter we learn about Gatsby's true background. His name was James Gatz and he was born on a farm in North Dakota. He never really had a close relationship with his parents. He did go to college at St.Olaf's in Minnesota but he left the school because of how humiliated he was to have to be a janitor to pay for his education. He did odd jobs around Lake Superior for a while until he made the acquaintance of the millionaire Dan Cody when his yacht dropped anchor there. He wandered with Cody across the continent three times and became infatuated with the life of luxury he was shown. Cody left Gatsby twenty-five thousand dollars but Gatsby never received that money because Cody's mistress, Ella Kaye, kept it for herself. From then on, he worked to get money fast however he could.


*The American Dream & The Immorality of the 1920's:

--Well, as many have discussed so far on their blogs, we continue to see the decline of the American Dream in this chapter. Gatsby grew up on a farm and had a very rural life and one might think that because of that background, a strong work ethic was ingrained in him along with a humble attitude. One would be wrong. Gatsby's humiliation at having to pay for his schooling by being a janitor shows that.
>> "He stayed there two weeks, dismayed at its ferocious indifference to the drums of his destiny, to destiny itself, and despising the janitor's work with which he was to pay his way through." (pg.105)
--Gatsby's humble beginnings are most likely the cause for his now lavish way of living. He didn't grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth and once he had a taste of the life Cody showed him, he never wanted to go back to being a "no-name loser."
--We also see more of the deplorable side of his character:
>>  "He was a son of God--a phrase which, if it meant anything,means just that--and he must be about His Father's Business, the service of a vast,vulgar and meretricious (definition: Apparently attractive but having in reality no value or integrity) beauty." (pg.104)
>> "...of the others because they were hysterical about things which in his overwhelming self-absorption he took for granted." (pg.104-105 top)
>> "The most grotesque and fantastic conceits haunted him in his bed at night." (pg 105) And pretty much that whole paragraph gives us a beautiful portrait of the degree of Gatsby's desire for wealth and luxuries.
--Gatsby really epitomizes the mindset of the "new money" coming to the West Egg. He is the corrupt American Dream. His life has become all about impressing other people and trying to "woo" daisy with wealth and his notoriety. With all the speculation having read thus far, I believe it's safe to say Gatsby did not earn his money in all legal practices. Having said that, it shows how an honest day's work that was upheld in the traditional American Dream is now thought of as only a way to delve deeper into poverty. No one thinks that an honest day's work will get them any wealth anymore, at least not the wealth they want. The avarice of the people of the 1920's is beyond exuberant and blinded people to more noble pursuits of the American Dream.

--We also see more of the division of the people of the West Egg and the East Egg. Nick comes over to Gatsby's house and discovers, much to his surprise, that Tom is there with his friends, the Sloanes. Gatsby invites them over to his next party and Mrs.Sloane invites Gatsby, insincerely, to a dinner party with them. Gatsby doesn't realize their insincerity or chooses to ignore it, and goes to fetch his car to follow them on their horses but while he's doing that, Tom and the Sloanes leave without him.
>> " 'My God, I believe the man's coming,' said Tom. 'Doesn't he know she doesn't want him?' " (pg.109)

--Another of Gatsby's parties is also shown in this chapter but at this one Tom, Daisy and Nick all go together, which of course makes the night more memorable in it's awkwardness. These parties are also, of course, the epitomes of immorality in the 1920's. There's illegal drinking, dancing men and women with little decorum, and more folly then good "whole-some fun."
>> "Or perhaps I had merely grown used to it, grown to accept West Egg as a world complete in itself, with its own standards and its own great figures, second to nothing because it had no consciousness of being so..." (pg.110)
--Tom and Daisy know absolutely no one at this party showing how little status and real repertoire those of the West Egg have to those of the East Egg.
>> "It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment." (pg.110-111 top)
--More of the immorality of the 1920's is shown through the party guests that accompany the same table as Nick, Daisy, and Tom.
>> " 'Oh she's all right now. When she's had five or six cocktails she always starts screaming like that. I tell her she ought to leave it alone.' " (pg.113)
>> " 'Anything I hate is to get my head stuck in a pool,' mumbled Miss Baedeker. 'They almost drowned me once over in New Jersey' " (pg.113)
--Hello lady! If you were almost drowned at some other party because you were to wasted to help yourself, then why are you still drowning yourself in cocktails!! If I was almost drowned I certainly would hope I had learned better than to drink such copious amounts of alcohol. It just shows the lack regard for one's self at this time. Every one's "on top of the world" and nothing can harm them.

--There's also a certain amount of disillusionment that goes along with Gatsby at least, but I think could apply to many people of the 1920's. Gatsby, at the end of the chapter, seems intent on picking up with Daisy right where they left off and is upset that she didn't like and/or "understand" the party.
>> " 'Can't repeat the past?' he cried incredulously. 'Why of course you can?' " (pg.116)
>> " 'I'm going to fix everything just the way it was before,' he said, nodding determinedly." (pg.117)
>> "He talked a lot about the past and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was..." (pg.117)
--Gatsby wants Daisy to leave Tom for him as though it were an easy thing to do. It's not just leaving Tom though, it would be leaving a whole life she built in the East Egg, which I don't think Gatsby completely gets. Which many people of this time period have ideas and goals that they want to set out and accomplish, not realizing that there are all these other factors and "walls" that one must first overcome. And sometimes, these "walls" are people and lives which are "foundations" and not "walls." I think Disillusionment is a major thing that adds to the immorality of the 1920's. Everyone predominantly thinks of themselves as better than they are (i.e: Myrtle going for Tom, Gatsby thinking he could go to dinner with Tom and the Sloanes, etc.).

Ok that's all I've got for now. I sort of did this piece by piece if you can tell, not all at the same time, but I hope it still connects and makes sense and doesn't confuse anyone. Having said that, please let me know if I missed something cause I did do it in pieces ^.^

-Kelli