Self-Made Boys: A Great Gatsby Remix (Remixed Classics)

by Anna-Marie McLemore

That glance told me that if people like us wanted to make something of ourselves in a world ruled by men as pale as their own dinner plates, we had to lie.

I hate this guy omgggg

“Boys like us always know one another about a thousand years before anyone else knows us, don’t we?”

Gatsby had a way of making my tongue forget what it was supposed to be doing.

Gatsby’s fingers grazed my waist. My breath sharpened with the anticipation of his palm landing there. But his hand moved to my back. He patted my shirt with what would have been the casual affection of friends, except that his hand stayed. His fingers spread out, thumb contouring to the lower point of my shoulder blade.

YOU SAID WHAT?!?!?!?! WHERES MY T4T HAPPINESS

I expected Gatsby to look disappointed, but he echoed her with, “Please, Nick, join us.”

Hmmmm

of pearls. Daisy Fay was gay again, as gay as ever.

Ha ha ha

People treat a girl very differently depending on how she looks.

The celebratory fever around us was the only explanation I had for why I kissed him. And it was the only explanation I could come up with for why he kissed me back.

AYO?

self-made boy you are.

Was a boy like me even allowed to love another boy? What did that make me? I had parents who’d respected me telling them that I was a boy, and who’d helped me live as the boy I was. Shouldn’t that have been enough? Shouldn’t I like girls as more than friends by now?

Relest thing when yojr trans. Its always abt how other feel. Especially when it comes to sexuality.

My relief at not being folded into the category of “girls”

“Now don’t go looking at me like that,” Tom said. “I told you, you’re one of the good ones. I don’t think you’re as bad as the rest.” “The rest of who?” I asked.

Sick man

“You think your boy’s the only one I ever come to see around here?” Martha asked. “I know everyone in both Eggs. I know every egg in the carton. Now get in.” “I’ll soak your car,” I said. “It’s seen worse.” Martha threw the passenger’s side door wide. “Now hurry up or it’ll really get soaked in here.”

I love martha omggg

“You think I’m gay?” I asked. “Aren’t we all?” Martha gave me a smiling glance. “Young and gay and radiant, and ready for all sorts of gay exciting things?”

If I loved another boy, did that make me less of one?

HITSSSS

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” “I thought I made it quite clear that I don’t like boys,” she said. “I didn’t mean it that way,” I said. “I know.” She flashed me an older sister’s smile. “I have somewhere to be.”

I LOVE HEERRRRR

“I’m better with you, Daisy. You make me better.” Why must it be up to me to make a man better?

Gatsby and I may have been nothing to men like Tom Buchanan, but men like that did not know we were as divine as the heavens. We were boys who had created ourselves. We had formed our own bodies, our own lives, from the ribs of the girls we were once assumed to be.

my raised catholic trans self just cried

“Then you don’t know anything,” I said. “Of course not,” she said. “Why would I? I’m not supposed to know a thing for myself.” She leaned forward, her skirt lapping at the night. “Men love beautiful, useless, expensive things. So I’m meant to be one. I’m not supposed to be anything but a beautiful little fool.”

One criticism i have is that while trans men are men and will act like it, we were still once women and treated as such. Trans men and cis men will never have the same experience because we still hold the trauma of girlhood (im half joking). This especially applies to poc trans men. We will still experience sexism, we still have. so making nick this clueless man to womens issues and like hes never experienced or lived with this pressure is kind of tonedeaf.

“Coming out with you,” Daisy told Jordan. “I meant it.”

Crying