A scenario

[Andrew Dinn]

Paul DiFilippo writes:

> One day, as we all must, Thomas Pynchon dies.  
> BUT--
> Those near and dear to him do not tell anyone!

[paranoid fantasy continues]

Other paranoid scenarios:

Pynchon never existed except as a committee of Cornell alumni,
somewhat akin to a literary Bourbaki. By the time Vineland came around
most of them were too disenchanted to make an effort (can you imagine
17 years of committee meetings?).

Pynchon never existed. He is really Farin~a in a disguise adopted
after the supposedly fatal motorcycle accident. This *attempt on his
life* by the FBI scared him so shitless that he was shocked into
becoming an accomplished writer.  A lapse of 17 years saw him revert
more towards his old form.

Pynchon is gay and chose anonymity to avoid his work being trivially
discredited in accordance with prevailing homophobia. The Siegel
article was written by Pynchon himself to cover his tracks. In the
original Vineland Frenesi was a Queen Bitch and Prairie a beautiful
golden-haired boy who might or might not be fucking his father's
catamite (that's just a term I picked up from the master wordsmith
Anthony Burgess who, doubtless, could be handed Pynchon's ass on a
plate, or something like that). Pynchon bottled out at the last minute
and chose to remain in the closet (or cupboard, as we say more cosily,
albeit with somewhat less resonance, here in Britain), hence the
last-minute rehashing of Vineland - boy you should have seen the
original manuscript, though!

Any other fantasies out there?


Andrew Dinn
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O alter Duft aus Maerchenzeit / Berauschest wieder meine Sinne
Ein naerrisch Heer aus Schelmerein / Durchschwirrt die leichte Luft