She hangs on the western wall...

[doktor at primenet.com]

This is a belated response to MESCOLAR, who, on April 13 wrote:

>          I just finished reading chapter 7 of V (she hangs on the
>          western wall), and I have to say it was one of the most
>          satisfying literary experiences I have ever had...the way
>          everything pulled together at the end...It was just amazing.
>           I'm working on Fausto's confessions right now.  Someone
>          please tell me there is a light at the end of the tunnel for
>          that chapter...I am having a bit of trouble getting through
>          it.

I've been wanting all week to reply to this because I love V. and have
often thought the P-list too GR-oriented.  But I'm sure you know all about
good intentions.

I am frequently struck by how many chapters of V. could stand on their own
as short stories.  In fact, I once picked up a paperback entitled
"Superfiction" which was an anthology of weird contemporary fiction which
had "In Which Esther Gets A Nose Job" reprinted in its entirety.  Then
there's Chapter 3, which _was_ a short story first.  Foppl's seige party is
one of my favorites, and could easily stand alone.  So could She Hangs on
the Western Wall.  I sometimes see V. as a series of thematically linked
short stories interspersed with vignettes, structurally similar to
Hemingway's _In Our Time_.

The Confessions of Fausto Maijstral is not one of the best parts of the
book.  I used to groan inwardly upon approaching it during my annual V.
re-read.  It seems like it could have been edited more tightly.  Fausto's
various incarnations sometimes seem indistinguishable, especially Fausto II
and Fausto III, and here Pynchon is guilty of telling, not showing.

The light at the end of the tunnel for you--if you haven't seen it
already--is V. in Love.  After so much doubt and subterfuge, it's
refreshing to have V. frankly identified.  V. really exists, is more than
just "a remarkably scattered concept," is a real woman who loves, cries,
grieves.  The first time I read the book I felt a whoosh of relief when I
came to this chapter: OK, this book is not just stringing me along.  I have
never seen a satisfactory unpacking of this chapter, in all its
psychosexual symbolism--hello, is Camille Paglia here?--and I'd be curious
to know your impressions.  Don't want to spoil things for you if you
haven't reached that point yet, so let us know where you are.

--Jimmy
  http://www.angelfire.com/oh/Insouciance/index.html