I almost skipped it because I read a critique of Fitzgerald's antiquated use of dialogue attribution. And I see what he is doing and I don't care about that. He said quickly. So what? I'm learning that there are simply different tastes and no two pallettes the same, and some people have become too smart for their own good.
It's the way Fitzgerald uses light that floors me. Light brings the scene to life. How it shines on the edge of a newspaper (can't you just see that?), or illuminates a doorway.
Take this for example: For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened--then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.
Does it get more perfect? It does if you read on.
The living backdrop is a character too.
"Oh sure," agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls.
Wilson is colorless and bland unless I miss my guess.
His characters have traits that I recognize. Take this description of Tom:
Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body--he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat.
This got me thinking about my dad for some reason, which then became inspiration.