“There was once a priest with cold, watery eyes, who, in the still of the night, wept cold tears. Sometimes, near four o’clock, there was a rustle of Swede girls along the path by his window, and in their shrill laughter he found a terrible dissonance that made him pray aloud for the twilight to come […] several times he had walked past Romberg’s Drug Store when it was dusk and the yellow lights shone inside and the nickel taps of the soda-fountain were gleaming, and he had found the scent of cheap toilet soap desperately sweet upon the air.”
Through the prism of a Catholic confession with Rudolph Miller (in his fantasies Blatchford Sarmenington and whom Fitzgerald intended to be the younger Gatsby, or rather, Gatz) and the dying Father Schwartz (perhaps an echo of Fitzgerald’s own priest), the reader watches repression, fantasy, temptation and distance play out.
Tanner suggest that one could take the dying words of the Father as “the delirious regret for all the sexuality and glamour, the heat and light, that, as a celibate priest, he has repressed and kept his distance from.” Tanner muses that Fitzgerald’s work is imbued with “a confused and inarticulate longing”, a sort of Neo-Platonism (which conceives of the world as an emanation from an ultimate indivisible being with whom the soul is capable of being reunited in trance or ecstasy – e.g. Daisy, whom Gatsby’s whole existence revolves around). Furthermore, “there is a crucial difference between Dexter Green’s desire to possess the glittering things and Father Schwartz’s advice to stand back from the glittering light, and it lies precisely in the latter’s apprehension that getting too close might be dangerous, ruinous to the vision of earthly (and heavenly?) delights.” Gatsby is a voyeur, a shadow silhouette, and in this respect he is similar to Nick, which may suggest some of their kinship.
The interminable, labyrinth like wheat is a similar motif to the dreadful ashes of the Valley of Ashes, inescapable and torturous. The pastoral manifests itself incongruously in the urban setting of The Great Gatsby – Gatsby’s predecessor desired thatched cottages as his neighbours (although this rural idyll was never realised).
Sensuality and the forbidden is diffused through the short story and the Father’s wavering in faith is eroded by the vital, “girls with yellow hair” whose “shrill laughter” haunts him. Both the Father and Gatsby don’t desire abrasive, raw physicality, the “heat and the sweat and the light”, but rather abstract dreams that go “glimmering”.