Monday, November 22, 2004

Imitation of Gatsby

For my Literature class one of the assignments we had to do was an imitation of 'The Great Gatsby' by F Scott Fitzgerald. As you can imagine this being one the greatest novels of the 2oth century it was very difficult. But my teacher gave me an A for it so with my confidence bouyed I present my imitation. I'm not sure if this story stands alone without being merely an imitation. I'd say to those that haven't read The Great Gatsby first of all to read it and second to keep in mind that this is an imitation of another writer's style so i'm only partly to blame for how awful you may think it is.

Very poor Imitation of
The Great Gatsby

It was in a curious manner that Fraser went about his business after that weekend. He gave up his position on the board and began writing a novel. Fraser had been on the board of a very large manufacturing company: Hike Industries. He was defined by his work. He was known to many as simply Fraser from Hike Industries and had thus far refused to present a personality worthy of the bestowment of an individual identity. His family were middle class and not particularly proud of it. He spent most of his youth imbibing enormous amounts of alcohol either alone or with a small bunch of friends; one would generously describe as unsuccessful. He had decided to change rather suddenly as if realising that he would no longer play a part in his family’s meagre fortunes. He was a grave adult - even as he found his way up the steps of the corporate ladder his reputation was as an unhappy man. He managed his ascent through a fanatical workaholism and a charm he could turn on when he needed it but faded away violently when he had no more use for you. Why he came back south I don’t know.

He would be staying here by the sea for a long time, Fraser said to me one summer evening- I was inclined to believe him- he had made himself at home in here and I could not see him being attracted back to his old grey world again.

Something had been worrying me about him since the first time I met him. The expression in his voice when we first met that morning on the beach, inspired feelings of anxiety. The word I answered him with came out disturbingly artificial and over generous- and so it happened that I would go visit him in such a friendly manner whilst I scarcely knew him at all.

Fraser’s house was as near to a beach shack you would have seen in our affluent neighbourhood, it seemed well apart from him and the rest of the houses nearby- it seemed the only thing linking Fraser and it was that he slept there. However he was not at all self conscious about it. It was modest yet not as ugly as to be unpalatable.

That evening I walked over to his house after an afternoon inside with a bottle of whisky and Francine keeping me company. We sat and talked on his porch for a few hours. ‘How is she keeping, Francine? ,’ He said looking ahead to the sea and then quickly down to his shoes. She was managing well I replied. ‘Would you like something to drink?’ He got up slowly and walked inside past his glass doors reflecting the moonlight. He returned with drinks for us both. ‘When I was younger I always felt more of an affinity with our rich neighbours than my own family’, Fraser told me as he gulped down his drink. 'I was good friends with the boy next door, we went to school together. His name was Max Applebaum and his family were the kindest people you could imagine. I would have spent more time there than I did at my own home. His mother would cook us pancakes after school, and his older sister Miriam would always join us as we ate. By the time I was sixteen, I was quite in love with her. I would go with the Applebaums on family excursions to the zoo etcetera. How I miss those times. The Family moved away pretty soon after Max and I graduated from high school. We had a going away party for them. Max, Miriam and me were drinking very heavily; we were sitting out side on the grass outside of their house, gazing up at the stars and the moon. I rolled over and gave Miriam a kiss goodbye. Then I must have run back to my house. I remember feeling nauseous and I probably threw up and then I must of fallen asleep.’

Cost of the War in Iraq
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