Film/Books and Speed

[Mark Smith]

I think I would shift the emphasis here to one of *engagement* with the
text/film.  Patrick ( I think) is right to bring in notions of
subjective experiences of time passing(<Linear time is a concept which
has no bearing upon an individuals definition of speed>).  But films do
last a certain number of minutes, and books dont.  

Letss face it, whatever happens on the printed page between the writer
and the reader is largely a matter of chance, and the writer has even
less control over how his text will be read than the filmmaker over how
his film will be viewed.    If, for example, the reader is stupid,
preoccupied or unaware of the writers cultural references, the contract
between reader and writer is broken.  If, on the other hand the reader
is ready, but the writer is unworthy of such close scrutiny, the
contract is also broken, unless of course you are  reading merely to
*pass the time*, which is sort of the literary equivalent of watching
Mattlock.  Thats how most readers read.  For them, reading is
entertainment -  not that theres anything wrong with entertainment - 
but its entertainment of a pretty low grade.  Now, Pynchon is high
grade entertainment, and requires high grade participation.  Its as if
Pynchon has designed this means of communication which encodes meaning
so well that its sometimes like pure information.  And because of this
method of writing, certain readers are excluded from taking part, so
that a large proportion of the readers are approaching the status of
*perfect reader* - which means that the contract between reader and
writer is pretty damn clean.  Rilke managed a similar feat with his
poetry, and Im sure there are others to be mentioned, but the situation
doesnt exist very often.  Usually the writers words are appropriated
by the reader to help substantiate some already preexisting notion of
what the reader already thinks, which is comforting, but not very
communicative.

It seems to me that the magic of Pynchon has to do with what goes on
*while you are reading the book*.   At the moment you are reading, there
are connections being made and contexts being shifted all the time.  
Its like crossing a bridge of sand.  You keep moving, you get over, but
you cant quite explain how.  Synapses are snapping in your head, and at
the time you are reading it makes perfect sense.  Try explaining it to
someone else, however, and you soon find yourself at a loss.  What was
it about?  Well, it was about energy, friction between ideas, playful
scenarios half sketched and tenuous hints of sinister doings. 
Narrative, of course is not the point at all.  Neither is character. 
The point is the raw energy of words in context.

Some people get really interested in the arcane words Pynchon uses, like
euphroe.  Thats fine.  And it may shed some light on something.  But
anybody can stick strange words in a novel - its not hard, and its not
something to fasten on for very long.  Because words by themselves dont
have energy.  (Neither do symbols, really.)  Etymology is not the point;
syntax is the point.  Speech patterns and glancing blows, hints and
shadows, constant spinning of possibilities.

You take a guy like George Carlin.  Hes interested in WORDS.  Words are
his stock in trade.  You know the sort of thing - euphemisms, mutually
exclusive terms like military intelligence, and nonsense terms like
near miss to describe an encounter between two airplanes that nearly
crash.  O.K. - plenty of chuckles.  Kind of like the Oscar Wilde of the
comedy world - words as an end in themselves.  Thats how far it goes,
and its not really so funny.  Now, take another comedian, like Dennis
Miller, and you have somebody who is interested in doing what Pynchon
does, which is to use our shared cultural references, lowbrow as they
may be, to create a world of absurd possibilities.  You know - things
like  So when did Bruce Jenner turn into Miss Hathaway?  Wow! Funny,
because theres so much going on there that has to do with making
connections:  Bruce Jenner, Infomercials (cmon, youve sat and watched
them), and Miss Hathaway from the Beverly Hillbillies.  Pynchon does
that all the time -  references to Jack Lord and Hawaii Five-O in
Vineland to give but one example.  And while youre reading you are
instantly and completely there, where perfect information flows your
way, and it works.  And it makes you believe that history is just that
fluid and strange, because, through the glancing blows of syntax,
Pynchon brings the past into our own frame of reference.

-- 
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