About half-way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is the valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air.
What does the imagery Fitzgerald uses to describe the valley of ashes imply about life for working class people like the Wilsons in the 1920s?
They didn’t enjoy their work but they were grateful
They were stuck in an endless, depressing cycle of hard physical work.
It was exciting and luxurious
They lived a fantastic life on farmland