The Great Gatsby Monologue Essay

I suppose you are married to Daisy and you both are living in incredible love. I feel jealous to you. You managed to do what I have been trying to do for so long. You managed to win Daisy's love. I am going to war now. If you are reading this, means I have survived. I do not know what will happen, but I will fight with great effort, but at the same time very carefully, in order to return faster home and become you.

Gatsby is so sweet. I’ve always loved that smile of his. It feels like the past, but the good parts. I just love him in general (I still think that Nick is secretly in love with me.) Gatsby lived across the bay and I didn’t even know. I never noticed the big parties he threw. I know I only went to one party, but I had so much fun. It felt so nice just to go out and meet all these amazing entertainers. One thing I’m unsure about is if I want to leave Tom for Gatsby. Tom is a cheater, but I loved him once. We also have a daughter together. If the time ever came where I had to choose, I don’t know who I would pick. one day, I’ll decide.

In chapter 9 from “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald, the readers are taken two years into the future after Gatsby’s tragic death. The chapter is told from Nick’s perspective as a memoir and describes the events and ideas that took place in the funeral. Even though Gatsby is dead, the rumors keep circulating him and his relationship to Myrtle and Wilson. In the chapter, Nick realizes that he is the only loyal person beside Gatsby’s father to attend his funeral despite the fact that people never refused to attend his great parties and admired him. Eventually, Daisy and Tom leave town, and Nick feels contempt and scornful as he begins to understand the real values of people like Tom and Daisy. These people will never realize the error

We ran as fast as we could to the town and told the tale. People were amazed at what we said and didn’t quite believe it. So they came with us to see if it was possible. It was. The people saw the possessed men, well, not possessed. The 12 men and the Jew gave them some clothes and where having a pleasant conversation in the graveyard. The people were terrified. They were even more scared when they saw the drowned pigs. The pigs now had disgusting purple veins all over their bodies, up to their eyes, and down to their tales. I had to look away as I saw one of the pig's tongue fall out. Trust me, you don't want me to describe that. All the towns people look away and look at the heroic Jew that did this. I wasn't even afraid of losing my job. I was

I can clearly remember the last day I saw him. His heart was growing weaker and weaker as the months went by, so I started to visit him more often. I walked up the narrow dirt path up to his quaint old house. The vivid yellow roses that once covered his lawn, were all shriveled up. He was lying in bed when I came in. His face looked washed-out, and his body

I remember the day it all changed like the back of my hand. I remember driving, in the middle of the night. It was the same 14-hour drive we took as a family every summer, for the past 17 years. This time it was different, we were making the long 14-hour drive to attend my cousin’s funeral. As we drove into town I remember tightening every muscle in body fighting back the tears, but being strong was hopeless; I was broken.

My feelings are closely related to this. I placed the flowers and wept silently of his death. I came back home with a burn in my leg and come back seeing my dear mother who slaves away everyday to only bring a small morsel of food. The food is a collection of near-expired potatoes and water. I feel the starving, but shamed to say anything of the screams of the crying baby. I go to the computer to see it crash over and over just to do a simple task. I finally quit, and lay down to my hay mattress remembering the comfy bed dad bought me which we sold to pay our fiancés. Our good life has gone downhill and now is stuck at the middle of the two valleys, never to come up without dogged persistence and force. Even if you surpass the steep hill, you must maintain where you are. It’s no use in our position.

As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……

Please list three books, along with their authors, that have been particularly meaningful to you. For each book, please include a sentence explaining their influence upon you. Please note that your response is not limited to math, science or school-assigned texts. (200 CHARACTER max)

The tears swelled in my eyes. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Everything is alright. Then came the burning in my throat, and my chest tightened. Almost as if I swallowed a stone and there are only limited breathes before I’d find myself in a casket. A pounding had formed in my head, an ongoing bang as if I was a nail that was getting hammered into the wall. I was given a flower to put next to him in the casket. The same bright flowers at the graveyard. It is different; this is my grandfather. He cannot be gone, he isn’t gone. I am not ready to let go just yet. I was still holding on to his hand so tightly.

Those few short hours went by in a blur and it was a challenge for me to even stay remotely on task. However, when noon came around, my dad picked us up from school and we headed to Nashville. During the car ride, I played her favorite song and tried to sleep. Yet, all I could seem to do was cry silently to myself. When we finally arrived to my grandparents’ house, I tried to remain calm and strong for the family. Personally, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to cry or feel any emotion. I mean, yes I lost my mother, but I was not always around her. My dad had raised me and my older brother, with her coming in and out of our lives. However, my grandparents lost their only daughter, who did not even make it to see her thirtieth birthday. I felt as if I had to remain as strong as I could for them no matter what.

Originally published in 1925, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book The Great Gatsby soon became his most well-known book. After struggling for years to remain sober enough to write and trying not to stay broke, Fitzgerald was finally able to publish a worthwhile novel. Many aspects of the book including plot, characters, and setting are unique to Fitzgerald’s time spent on Great Neck, Long Island with his wife Zelda Fitzgerald. Many positive reviews were written shortly after the novel was published. Several reviewers were unimpressed with Fitzgerald’s plot, but overall found praise in his writing style. Reviewers of The Great Gatsby positively responded to Fitzgerald’s writing style and unique characters, but they fond the plot line…

But then I saw the tear soaked eyes and lumpy throats and suddenly my tone of voice instantly changed from comedian to concerned. When I entered the affliction filled room, I was not prepared for the news that I was destined to hear. Considering my dad was 6’9 and weighed a good 250 pounds, I was in complete awe to see that he had come even close to crying; much less bawling. It was just all a complete shock. Hearing the words “Your brother is dead” was almost like hearing that your favorite dog got ran over. Well, maybe a combination of that and losing your best friend rolled all into one. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a whole lot worse. All that I know is that when he died, a part of me died as well.

The next couple of days I had waited for him to finally come home, I could not wait to have him in my arms. Sadly, that did not happen as I thought, he was unable to pass stool and was sent to The Hospital of Sick Children. At the hospital, he was diagnosed with a disease called Hirschsprung 's, which affects the large intestine enabling him to pass stool. My mom and Kalen stayed at the hospital for eight months before he was able to finally come home. My seven-year-old self-took upon responsibility, with my mother 's absence, my father 's late nights at work I took it upon myself. I would do chores around the house, I made sure to do my homework and behave well for my grandmother. Years past in a blur, doctors appointments, short hospital visits and ensuring Kalen’s health.“Sophia, we are here, grab the camera!”. “ Sophia we are getting late for Kalen’s graduation.” My mother watched me closely as she grabbed the camera out of my hands. She began to walk as she kept a close eye on me, as I looked into her hazel eyes and her tight smile she understood what was on my mind. Tears stung my eyes, as I reminisced 2015, January we were informed that Kalen had jaundice, I remember his skin and eyes a pale yellow pigment, and continuous exhaustion, difficult for him to breathe. We spent weeks at a time at

Everything was beautiful that night. The sky was as clear as the spring water. The weather was so beautiful that we thought that we were not in the summer. I was sitting outside the house in our garden with my parents. We were having a nice chat after a delicious homemade crispy chicken with fries that my mom usually do. Everything was just perfect until my father received the unexpected call. The call that I wished my father didn’t receive.