The Great Gatsby Dialectical Journal

“You’re hurt,” Tom stated, his laconic responses beginning to grate on Booker’s nerves. “He hurt you.”

Falling forward, Tom pressed his lips against Booker’s open mouth and kissed him passionately. Removing his finger, Booker wrapped his arms around Tom’s narrow body and pulling him close, they thrust their bodies together as they continued to shudder out their release. Seconds passed, and when they were both finally spent, Tom slowed the kiss and sitting up, he trailed a finger over the seminal fluid covering Booker’s chest. “Wow,” he grinned.

The way that Nick describes Tom expresses his dislike for him. He sees him as too arrogant and cruel. In chapter one, its is said that “there were men at New Haven that hated his guts.” (page 7).

Tom hits Myrtle and breaks her nose because he believed that Myrtle didn’t “have any right to mention Daisy’s name.” This enforces the fact that Tom is a violent man who wants to have his way all the time. This also shows that Tom is not only a racist jerk, but a sexist who sees nothing wrong with domestic violence.

His voice trailed off, his shame rendering his speechless. How could he explain the fear and confusion he’d felt the first time his brother had stroked his penis through his gym shorts? There were no words to articulate the titillating sensation pulsating through his groin, his body’s awakening fighting for dominance over the guilt and shame screaming inside his head. Eventually, his inner voice won the battle, and his mind took him to his happy place so he wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment. But by shutting down, he’d given Will the green light to proceed, and by the time his prepubescent mind had sorted through his conflicting emotions, he had no idea how to rebuff Will’s advances. Time moved forward, and he remained trapped in a cycle of escalating abuse, unable or unwilling to speak out in case he hurt his brother’s feelings. But all that had changed the moment Booker called him a freak, and although he hadn’t realized it at the time, the public humiliation was the wake-up call he needed to take control of his life. He had found his voice and finally said no...not that it had done him any good. His audacious rebellion had resulted in him spending two days chained to sink, and the sexual

"I felt my face flush, and my vexation at blushing just made my cheeks and throat burn all the hotter."

With a weary grunt, Booker shifted the bag of groceries in his arms and kicked his apartment door closed with his foot. He had planned to be home early so he take Tom out to dinner as a birthday surprise, but as usual, work had ruined his plans. When he had rung Tom and explained that he would be home late, he had expected him to react moodily, but instead, he had received a sympathetic response. It was a sign that their relationship was now on stable footing. Tom was more open about his feelings, and they argued less about the trivialities of everyday life; they were moving forward.

It took a moment for Tom to realize that Booker had once again managed to get the better of him, and his anger bubbled to the surface. “What the fuck’s your problem?” he growled. “Why do you always have to behave like such a

Nick describes Tom as a brutish, hulking, powerful man who is extremely arrogant. He also goes on to describe that Tom is unfaithful to his

With his cheeks burning red, Booker nervously wiped the sweat from his palms on his denim-clad legs. “I dunno, he’s beautiful, like strikingly beautiful. Since Doug’s death, there’s a glimmer of vulnerability that lies just below the surface that never used to be there. But he’s also incredibly stubborn and strong-minded, like me and I guess that’s why we fight so much. I s’pose you could say he’s kinda complicated, but that’s what makes him so appealing. He’s unpredictable, which can be frustrating, but it also makes life interesting, you know?”

The revelation was not what Booker expected, and his eyes grew wide with surprise. “Tommy, I… are you… oh God… are you sure?”

Turning a corner, Tom slowed his pace as he approached his apartment building. Although he longed for the comfort of his home, the thought of facing Booker filled him with dread, the psychological burden weighing him down. Consequently, he purposely dragged his feet, delaying the confrontation and the inevitable argument. He’d reacted badly to the news of Booker's tape, and his guilt hung like a noose around his neck, waiting for the moment his mind yanked at the metaphorical rope, and the painful castigation crushed his airway. But while his remorse was real, his jealousy was a far bigger beast, a raging fire-breathing monster that easily dominated all other emotion. It was a deep-seated sensation that encompassed feelings of fear, rage, and

“Booker, how do you know what it said? The last time we talked, you couldn’t read. Or have you been lying to me, all this time?”

“A-Ah...u-um…” Moblit searched for the words, his cheeks warming hotter than what the alcohol did to them.

“You. Did. WHAT?!” Keith shouted, taking a couple steps closer to Lance. “Why the f would you do that?!”