themes of loss

[Meg Larson]

This thought struck me when I read Will's thoughtful post, regarding the
lines below:  not only does it seem everyone is pushing Mason to move on,
for Mason's sake, but it seems they're also pushing him for their own sakes.
IOW, the people around him are used to dealing with Mason-before-loss and
this represents a new dimension to Mason that they are uncomfortable with
because it's new; they don't know  how to help _this_ Mason so they want him
"back to normal" ASAP.  Loss is a messy business, as we've seen in the other
Pynchon works and it's not the achievements, not the successes, that define
us but rather the losses we are forced to deal with.  Losing someone, or
something, is one of the few truly life-altering experiences we face.  It's
not death so much but absence that is at the bottom, and the heart, of TRP's
works.  And it's an individual thing; everyone has their own way of dealing
with it.  But it's hard to help someone grieve, and it's exhausting, and
it's a lot of work.  Words don't help, but the silences of loss and grief
are deafening.  In the end it's just easier to change the tune and push
someone, Mason, towards a place where those around him can deal with him
than try to understand the grieving Mason.

And we're talking hommes de la 20th siecle--cultural and social
constructions enter the game at this point.

Mason, btw, is starting to remind me of Gilgamesh after Enkidu's death:
enough, already!

Oh hell--it's Sunday morning,
M.

<Part of what Will sed>
  Beyond any connections between these ideas, P stresses that everyone
>(Rebekah, Dixon, etc.) is trying to coax Mason into moving on.  That a
>loss no matter how terrible can be overcome in some way.  That one must
>continue.  >
>
>cheers,
>
>will
>
>