- ChapterWork SX helps professional and amateur video editors create, update and internationalize video chapter tracks in their movies. The software features an intuitive user interface, a frame-based navigation mode, preview generation, and options for sharing your output movie with other applications and various video-centric internet services.
- Chapter Six is the seventh part of Baldur's Gate's storyline, following the Prologue and previous chapters. Chapter Six will begin when Duke Eltan has transported you to outside Candlekeep. Before you can enter Candlekeep, you will need to give the Keeper of the Portal the History of the Nether Scrolls that you received from the Duke.
Summary
The rumors about Gatsby continue to circulate in New York—a reporter even travels to Gatsby’s mansion hoping to interview him. Having learned the truth about Gatsby’s early life sometime before writing his account, Nick now interrupts the story to relate Gatsby’s personal history—not as it is rumored to have occurred, nor as Gatsby claimed it occurred, but as it really happened.
Joshua chapter 6 KJV (King James Version) 1 Now Jericho was straitly shut up because of the children of Israel: none went out, and none came in. 2 And the LORD said unto Joshua, See, I have given into thine hand Jericho, and the king thereof, and the mighty men of valour.
Gatsby was born James Gatz on a North Dakota farm, and though he attended college at St. Olaf in Minnesota, he dropped out after two weeks, loathing the humiliating janitorial work by means of which he paid his tuition. He worked on Lake Superior the next summer fishing for salmon and digging for clams. One day, he saw a yacht owned by Dan Cody, a wealthy copper mogul, and rowed out to warn him about an impending storm. The grateful Cody took young Gatz, who gave his name as Jay Gatsby, onboard his yacht as his personal assistant.
Traveling with Cody to the Barbary Coast and the West Indies, Gatsby fell in love with wealth and luxury. Cody was a heavy drinker, and one of Gatsby’s jobs was to look after him during his drunken binges. This gave Gatsby a healthy respect for the dangers of alcohol and convinced him not to become a drinker himself. When Cody died, he left Gatsby $25,000, but Cody’s mistress prevented him from claiming his inheritance. Gatsby then dedicated himself to becoming a wealthy and successful man.
Nick sees neither Gatsby nor Daisy for several weeks after their reunion at Nick’s house. Stopping by Gatsby’s house one afternoon, he is alarmed to find Tom Buchanan there. Tom has stopped for a drink at Gatsby’s house with Mr. and Mrs. Sloane, with whom he has been out riding. Gatsby seems nervous and agitated, and tells Tom awkwardly that he knows Daisy. Gatsby invites Tom and the Sloanes to stay for dinner, but they refuse. To be polite, they invite Gatsby to dine with them, and he accepts, not realizing the insincerity of the invitation. Tom is contemptuous of Gatsby’s lack of social grace and highly critical of Daisy’s habit of visiting Gatsby’s house alone. He is suspicious, but he has not yet discovered Gatsby and Daisy’s love.
The following Saturday night, Tom and Daisy go to a party at Gatsby’s house. Though Tom has no interest in the party, his dislike for Gatsby causes him to want to keep an eye on Daisy. Gatsby’s party strikes Nick much more unfavorably this time around—he finds the revelry oppressive and notices that even Daisy has a bad time. Tom upsets her by telling her that Gatsby’s fortune comes from bootlegging. She angrily replies that Gatsby’s wealth comes from a chain of drugstores that he owns.
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Gatsby seeks out Nick after Tom and Daisy leave the party; he is unhappy because Daisy has had such an unpleasant time. Gatsby wants things to be exactly the same as they were before he left Louisville: he wants Daisy to leave Tom so that he can be with her. Nick reminds Gatsby that he cannot re-create the past. Gatsby, distraught, protests that he can. He believes that his money can accomplish anything as far as Daisy is concerned. As he walks amid the debris from the party, Nick thinks about the first time Gatsby kissed Daisy, the moment when his dream of Daisy became the dominant force in his life. Now that he has her, Nick reflects, his dream is effectively over.
The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself.
Analysis
John Ch 6
Chapter 6 further explores the topic of social class as it relates to Gatsby. Nick’s description of Gatsby’s early life reveals the sensitivity to status that spurs Gatsby on. His humiliation at having to work as a janitor in college contrasts with the promise that he experiences when he meets Dan Cody, who represents the attainment of everything that Gatsby wants. Acutely aware of his poverty, the young Gatsby develops a powerful obsession with amassing wealth and status. Gatsby’s act of rechristening himself symbolizes his desire to jettison his lower-class identity and recast himself as the wealthy man he envisions.
It is easy to see how a man who has gone to such great lengths to achieve wealth and luxury would find Daisy so alluring: for her, the aura of wealth and luxury comes effortlessly. She is able to take her position for granted, and she becomes, for Gatsby, the epitome of everything that he invented “Jay Gatsby” to achieve. As is true throughout the book, Gatsby’s power to make his dreams real is what makes him “great.” In this chapter, it becomes clear that his most powerfully realized dream is his own identity, his sense of self. It is important to realize, in addition, that Gatsby’s conception of Daisy is itself a dream. He thinks of her as the sweet girl who loved him in Louisville, blinding himself to the reality that she would never desert her own class and background to be with him.
Fitzgerald continues to explore the theme of social class by illustrating the contempt with which the aristocratic East Eggers, Tom and the Sloanes, regard Gatsby. Even though Gatsby seems to have as much money as they do, he lacks their sense of social nuance and easy, aristocratic grace. As a result, they mock and despise him for being “new money.” As the division between East Egg and West Egg shows, even among the very rich there are class distinctions.
It is worth noting that Fitzgerald never shows the reader a single scene from Gatsby’s affair with Daisy. The narrative is Nick’s story, and, aside from when they remake each other’s acquaintance, Nick never sees Gatsby and Daisy alone together. Perhaps Nick’s friendship with Gatsby allows him to empathize with his pain at not having Daisy, and that Nick refrains from depicting their affair out of a desire not to malign him. Whatever the reason, Fitzgerald leaves the details of their affair to the reader’s imagination, and instead exposes the menacing suspicion and mistrust on Tom’s part that will eventually lead to a confrontation.
Season Six Chapter Two
Original Text | Modern Text |
WELL, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he went for me, too, for not stopping school. He catched me a couple of times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged him or outrun him most of the time. I didn’t want to go to school much before, but I reckoned I’d go now to spite pap. That law trial was a slow business—appeared like they warn’t ever going to get started on it; so every now and then I’d borrow two or three dollars off of the judge for him, to keep from getting a cowhiding. Every time he got money he got drunk; and every time he got drunk he raised Cain around town; and every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was just suited—this kind of thing was right in his line. | Well, pretty soon my old man was up and about again. He sued Judge Thatcher for that money. He also went after me for continuing to go to school. He caught me a couple times and beat me fiercely, but I continued to go to school just the same and usually just avoided pap or outran him. I didn’t really want to go to school before, but I figured I’d go now just to spite pap. The lawsuit was slow, and it looked like they were never going to start the process, so every now and then I’d borrow two or three dollars from Judge Thatcher to keep pap from beating me. Every time he got money, he’d get drunk, and every time he got drunk, he tore up the town. And every time he tore up the town, he got thrown in jail. This way of life suited him perfectly—it was right in his line of work. |
He got to hanging around the widow’s too much and so she told him at last that if he didn’t quit using around there she would make trouble for him. Well, WASN’T he mad? He said he would show who was Huck Finn’s boss. So he watched out for me one day in the spring, and catched me, and took me up the river about three mile in a skiff, and crossed over to the Illinois shore where it was woody and there warn’t no houses but an old log hut in a place where the timber was so thick you couldn’t find it if you didn’t know where it was. | Pap started hanging around the widow’s house too much, so she finally told him that if he didn’t stop, she’d make life hard for him. That REALLY got him mad. He said he would show her who was in charge of Huck Finn. So he watched out for me, and caught me one Spring day. He took me about three miles upriver in a skiff, and we crossed over into the state of Illinois. He took me to a secluded old log hut that was hidden away by trees so thick you wouldn’t be able to find it unless you already knew it was there. |
He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon, and we fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every little while he locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to the ferry, and traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and got drunk and had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found out where I was by and by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of me; but pap drove him off with the gun, and it warn’t long after that till I was used to being where I was, and liked it—all but the cowhide part. | Pap kept me with him all the time, so I never got a chance to run away. We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key under his head at night. He had a gun—which he’d stolen, I guess—and lived on what we fished and hunted. Every once in a while he’d lock me in the hut and take the ferry down to the store three miles away, where he’d trade fish and game for whisky. He’d bring it home and get drunk and have a goold old time. And then he’d beat me. The widow eventually found out where I was, and she sent a man over to try and bring me back. Pap drove him off with the gun, though. It wasn’t long until I’d settled in and gotten used to life there. I even liked it—except for the being beaten part. |
It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking and fishing, and no books nor study. Two months or more run along, and my clothes got to be all rags and dirt, and I didn’t see how I’d ever got to like it so well at the widow’s, where you had to wash, and eat on a plate, and comb up, and go to bed and get up regular, and be forever bothering over a book, and have old Miss Watson pecking at you all the time. I didn’t want to go back no more. I had stopped cussing, because the widow didn’t like it; but now I took to it again because pap hadn’t no objections. It was pretty good times up in the woods there, take it all around. | It was kind of fun and relaxing lounging around all day, smoking and fishing and not having to read or study. Two months or so passed and my clothes became all raggedy and dirty. I didn’t understand how I could have ever liked it so much at the widow’s house, where you had to wash, eat on a plate, comb your hair, go to bed and get up at regular hours, fuss over the Bible, and put up with Miss Watson picking on you all the time. I had stopped cussing because the widow didn’t like it, but I started back up again because pap didn’t care. All in all, it was pretty easy living in the woods, and I didn’t want to go back. |
But by and by pap got too handy with his hick’ry, and I couldn’t stand it. I was all over welts. He got to going away so much, too, and locking me in. Once he locked me in and was gone three days. It was dreadful lonesome. I judged he had got drowned, and I wasn’t ever going to get out any more. I was scared. I made up my mind I would fix up some way to leave there. I had tried to get out of that cabin many a time, but I couldn’t find no way. There warn’t a window to it big enough for a dog to get through. I couldn’t get up the chimbly; it was too narrow. The door was thick, solid oak slabs. Pap was pretty careful not to leave a knife or anything in the cabin when he was away; I reckon I had hunted the place over as much as a hundred times; well, I was most all the time at it, because it was about the only way to put in the time. But this time I found something at last; I found an old rusty wood-saw without any handle; it was laid in between a rafter and the clapboards of the roof. I greased it up and went to work. There was an old horse-blanket nailed against the logs at the far end of the cabin behind the table, to keep the wind from blowing through the chinks and putting the candle out. I got under the table and raised the blanket, and went to work to saw a section of the big bottom log out—big enough to let me through. Well, it was a good long job, but I was getting towards the end of it when I heard pap’s gun in the woods. I got rid of the signs of my work, and dropped the blanket and hid my saw, and pretty soon pap come in. | But after awhile pap started beating me more and more and I couldn’t stand it any more. I had bruises all over. He started going away and locking me inside a lot too. Once he locked me in and was gone for three days, which made me terribly lonely. I thought he’d drowned, and that I’d never get out of the hut. I was scared, and made up my mind to find some way out. I had tried to get out of the cabin several times before, but never found a way. The window wasn’t big enough to fit a dog, and the chimney was too narrow for me to climb through. And the door was made of thick, solid slabs of oak. I looked around the place at least a hundred times—it was pretty much the only thing for me to do—but Pap was careful not to leave a knife or anything in the cabin when he was away. But this time I found something—an old, rusty wood-saw that didn’t have a handle. It was lying between one of the rafters and the clapboards of the roof. I put some grease on the blade and went to work. There was an old saddle blanket nailed to the wall at the far end of the cabin behind the table to keep the wind from coming in through the chinks and blowing out the candle. I got under the table, lifted the blanket, and started sawing a section at the base of the wall big enough for me to crawl through. It took a long time, and when I was almost done, I heard the sound of pap’s gun firing in the woods. I covered up my work, lowered the blanket again, and hid my saw. Pretty soon pap came in. |