The Great Gatsby: The Final Passage of Chapter I

The craft of editing and revising a manuscript is often described as a process of discovery. As a writer continues to look at a creative work and polish it for publication, revisions and other changes are inevitable. F. Scott Fitzgerald, while revising his novel The Great Gatsby, made several significant changes to the first chapter of the novel. In particular, the addition of the green light to the end of the first chapter (Fitzgerald, Great Gatsby 64) introduces an important metaphorical image and foreshadows many of the events that occur throughout the rest of the novel. This and other alterations to the final paragraph of the first chapter alter the atmosphere of the entire chapter, leaving the reader unsettled and off balance.

In earlier versions of The Great Gatsby, there is no mention of the green light in the final passage of the first chapter. One draft version the final passage of the first chapter of The Great Gatsby reads:

"I got to my feet and was about to call out when suddenly I saw [Gatsby] stretch out both hands toward the skin in a curious way—and as far as I was from him I could have sworn that he was trembling. Involuntarily I looked up. When I looked down again he was gone, and I was left to wonder whether it was really the sky he had come out to measure with the compass of those aspiring arms." (Fitzgerald, Facsimile of a Manuscript 37)

This is a lovely passage and it is quite well written, but its imagery is at once both too benign and too soothing for the end of the first chapter. The term “aspiring arms” is soothing, calming, and induces a sense of comfort and relaxation in the reader. It is a settled image, a peaceful image. In addition, the use of the word “gone” to describe how Gatsby disappears as Nick glances away for a brief instant is benign, doing nothing to contribute to the imagery or emotion that could be present in the final moments of the first chapter.

In Trimalchio, the imagery is quite different in the final passage of the first chapter. It is closer to the published version, using many of the same images Fitzgerald ultimately decides to keep in the final version. Specifically, the end of the first chapter reads:

"But I didn’t call to [Gatsby] for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone—he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and as far as I was from him I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward—there was nothing to be seen except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Mr. Gatsby he had gone, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness." (Fitzgerald, Trimalchio 20)

The Great Gatsby is structured using a series of metaphorical images. One of the most powerful of these images, the green light, is introduced in the final passage of the first chapter. This reference to the green light remains in the final published version of the novel. Since the end of a dock would often have been marked with a single light, it makes sense for Fitzgerald to add the light to the setting of this scene.

However, the green light does more than simply make sense in the scene. It performs a symbolic function and has many metaphorical meanings. On one level, the light at the end of the dock is simply a warning, both to people and to boats on the water. This warning can be applied to Gatsby. He should not pursue Daisy but chooses to do so anyway. He ignores every warning throughout the novel. This passage, where Nick sees the green light, foreshadows much of what will occur throughout the novel, mostly concerning the romantic relationship between Gatsby and Daisy and how poorly their association ultimately ends.

The color green itself is a significant addition to the final passage of the first chapter. Green is indicative of envy, hope, new life, and wealth. All of these themes come into play in later chapters of The Great Gatsby. Gatsby envies the upper classes, covets Daisy, and generally wants those things he cannot have or is not entitled to. He hopes to win Daisy, and through her to achieve a new life for himself, a life he has always sought but has had difficulty attaining. Gatsby also strives for wealth, willing to go to many lengths to achieve this wealth. The green light, which appears in the final passage of the first chapter, suggests those goals Gatsby hopes to achieve.

The green light, in many instances, is associated with Daisy. She gives out green cards (Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 123) for kisses in “Chapter VI” and she herself is wealthy. In addition, green is related to the sirens of ancient Greece. These sirens would beckon sailors to their deaths, much as Daisy beckons Gatsby. In a sense, Daisy is a siren, and by adding the green light to the final passage of the first chapter, Fitzgerald is making a direct reference to Daisy and foreshadowing the events that occur in later chapters.

Finally, green is mentioned in the last chapter. “Gatsby believed in the green light” (Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 176), reached for the unattainable, and though he did not get what he wanted, Nick admires him for the effort. Green is the symbol of hope, sometimes fruitless hope, and the mention of the green light in the first chapter gives the rest of the novel a sense of anticipation, intriguing the reader and drawing him or her deeper into the story.

Though the addition of the green light to the final passage of the first chapter is significant, it is not the only change to this passage that has an effect on the reader. The term “unquiet darkness” is unsettling, giving the entire chapter a disconcerting atmosphere. The reader is left off balance and just a little uncomfortable. This is a more powerful image than “aspiring arms” and sets the reader up for the chapters to follow.

In the final published version of The Great Gatsby, the passage remains almost identical to what it was in Trimalchio. This passage reads:

"I didn’t call to [Gatsby], for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone—he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward—and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of the dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness." (Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 64)

The notable difference here is the use of the word “vanished” to describe Gatsby’s absence. This is not a casual word. By saying that Gatsby vanishes, Fitzgerald shrouds Gatsby in a sense of mystery and power. Gatsby becomes like a magician, and this idea is repeated throughout the novel.

There are many differences between the first available drafts of The Great Gatsby and the final product. What Fitzgerald “cut out of it both physically and emotionally would make another novel” (Fitzgerald, “Introduction to Modern Library Reprint” 140). The changes made to the final passage of the first chapter take what might have been a soothing and gentle piece and transforms it into something unsettling and disturbing. This leaves the reader off balance and prepared for the atmosphere and general theme of the rest of the novel. Fitzgerald “thoroughly and expertly practiced the craft of revision” (Eble 81) when revising this paragraph to create a powerful and moving passage.

Works Cited

Eble, Kenneth E. "The Craft of Revision: The Great Gatsby." In F. Scott Fitzgerald: A Collection of Criticism. Ed. Eble. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1973. 81-92. Print.

Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. Ed and Introd. Michael Nowlin. Peterborough : Broadview Editions, 2007. Print.

_ _ _. The Great Gatsby: A Facsimile of the Manuscript. Ed and Introd. Matthew Bruccoli. Washington : Microcard Editions Books, 1973. Print.

_ _ _. “Introduction to the Modern Library Reprint of The Great Gatsby.” 1934. In F Scott Fitzgerald on Authorship. Ed. Mathew J. Bruccoli and Judith S. Baughman. 139-41. Print.

_ _ _. Trimalchio: An Early Version of The Great Gatsby. [c. 1924] Ed. James L.W. West III. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000. Print.

Kuehl, John. Creative Writing and Rewriting: Contemporary American Novelists at Work. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1967. Print.

The Hidden Room: A Poet’s Choice and Its Effects

The creative process is often described as a process of discovery. As the writer delves into the specifics of the creative work, revisions and other changes are inevitable. P.K. Page, while writing her poem “The Hidden Room,” made several significant changes that affect the way in which the poem is read and interpreted. In particular, the relocation and eventual deletion of the first stanza of “The Hidden Room” alters the way in which the reader perceives the poem. In the end, “in the final draft, Page discarded her opening stanza, which explicitly locates the “room” in a dream” (Wallenstein and Burr 119). The effect of this decision changes the feel of the poem from the familiar to the mystical.

In the initial draft of the poem, the first stanza clearly places the “room” in a dream. The use of these lines as the opening stanza sets the tone for the entire poem. The poet firmly establishes that the poem relates to a dream or possibly a series of dreams. This tells the reader that the “room” in the poem is not quite real. It is only a part of the dream and no more important than any other dream might be. The poem that follows this stanza is well crafted and reflects the inspiration of the poet, but the presence of the original first stanza relegates the beauty of the poem to the realm of the dream, the realm of the improbable and the fantastical. The first stanza is lovely, but it establishes the poem as ordinary.

In later drafts of “The Hidden Room,” P.K. Page moves the first stanza so that it becomes the last stanza. The effect of this decision is substantial. Without the immediate presence of a stanza that clearly places the rest of the poem in a dream, the reader is drawn immediately into the poem. The poem has an almost mystical quality about it as the “room” is described as if it actually exists in the world. The “room” could almost be a physical place where the poet goes on a frequent basis, but “only when it permits [the poet]” (Page 3). The “room” is certainly real enough for the poet. The reader is gently pulled into what might be the imagination or the creativity of the poet.

In this draft of the poem, however, the first stanza has become the last stanza. The reader encounters the idea that the entire poem, and the “room” itself, is located in a dream after having read the poem in its entirety. After establishing the “room” as possibly a real and powerful place, the poet shatters this illusion for the reader simply by leaving the “dream” stanza at the end of the poem. The reader discovers that the magic and mystery of the “room” is nothing more than a dream. The poem that was mysterious and mystical becomes as plain and ordinary as any other dream.

Before the poem was finalized and eventually published, the stanza setting the poem in a dream was removed completely. The final draft of the poem makes no mention of a dream at all; the word “dream” does not even appear in the published version of the poem. The decision to remove this stanza from the final version of the poem has a profound effect on the impact the poem has on the reader. The deletion of the stanza in question allows the “wide variety of images” (Orange 1) present in the poem to take hold in the imagination of the reader. Without that particular stanza to indicate that the entire poem was simply a dream, the reader is allowed to retain the feelings of mystery and mysticism “The Hidden Room” evokes. The magic of the poem is not spoiled by any indication that the poem may just be an ordinary dream or a part of a larger series of dreams. The “mystical quality” (Wallenstein and Burr 119) of the poem is enhanced simply by making no mention of the original first stanza.

In the published version of the poem, the final stanza does not specify that the poem is a dream. “Will not know it as prism / a magic square / the number nine” (Page 28-30) indicate the speaker’s fear that the reader will not understand the significance of the “room” and so will not fully appreciate “a secret space” (Page 21) that is highly valued by the speaker. This implies that the “room” is real and solid to some degree and not as flimsy or insubstantial as a dream. Instead, the “room” is something substantial that can be seen by anyone but possibly not recognized as special.

The first stanza of the published version of the poem is also not what Page had originally intended. “I have been coming here since I was born / never at my will / only when it permits me” (Page 1-3) sets the mood of the poem. The reader is immediately exposed to the mysterious and perhaps mystical “it,” though what “it” might be remains unclear until later in the poem. This stanza draws the reader into the poem, almost seducing he or she into reading further to discover what the mystery of the poem will be. The idea that the entire poem is a dream is not likely to enter the reader’s mind. The poem retains its sense of mystery and whimsy.

The final published version of “The Hidden Room” contains “strong visual aspect[s]” (Musgrave 95) that are unspoiled by the implication that the “room” is a dream. As P.K. Page both “witnesses and creates the vision” (Orange 33) of the poem, she makes decisions regarding revisions that greatly affect the overall tone and message of the poem. Page’s decision to remove the “dream” stanza from the final version of the poem allows the majesty of the poem to remain intact for the reader.

Works Cited

Orange, John. P.K. Page and Her Works. Toronto: ECW Press, 1989. Print.

Musgrave, Susan. “The Hidden Room: Collected Poems by P.K. Page.” P.K. Page: Essays on Her Works. Ed. Linda Rogers and Barbara Colebrook Peace. Toronto: Guernica Editions, 2001. 94-8. Print.

Page, P.K. “The Hidden Room.” The Hidden Room: Collected Poems. Vol. 1. Erin: The Porcupine’s Quill, 1997. 11. Print.

Wallenstein, Barry, and Robert Burr. “P.K. Page.” Visions and Revisions: The Poet's Process. Peterborough: Broadview, 2002. 119-35. Print.