HAPPY 66th BIRTHDAY TOMORROW TO TRP FROM DAMON SMITH

[Elainemmbell at aol.com]

Excerpts from "The Great Pretender" by Damon Smith

Although Thomas Ruggles PynchonJr., ago secured his reputation as a great 
American novelist…he is equally famous for his long-running vanishing act.  
Called the "Greta Garbo of American letters", Pynchon guards his privacy as 
fiercely as the legendary J.D. Salinger, refusing to do book tours and 
interviews or make public appearances of any kind.  Not long after V. debuted 
in 1966, a photographer for Time Magazine caught up with Pynchon in Mexico 
City.  Alarmed, the young novelist jumped out a hotel window to avoid being 
photographed.  Or so the story goes.

But this was only the beginning of Pynchon's bizarre campaign of 
self-effacement.  In 1975 he refused to accept the prestigious William Dean 
Howells medal for Gravity's Rainbow, sending a comedian to read a statement 
on his behalf before the American Academy of Arts & Letters.  "Please don't 
impose on me something I don't want," read the letter, which suggested he did 
not deserve the honor.  Was this a publicity stunt?  An elaborate gag?  
Probably not. Like one of his own shadowy characters, Pynchon had gone 
underground and details about him became increasingly scarce.  Few people 
have seen or spoken to the reclusive novelist in nearly four decades.  Until 
very recently all known photographs of him dated to the early 1950's…

When Pynchon did surface, publishing…Vineland, Mason & Dixon and Slow Learner
, in the past 20 years, he has made it quite clear that the klieg lights of 
fame are just too bright, too intrusive.  And as a couple of intrepid New 
York reporters discovered in the late 1990s, he's still willing to go to 
great lengths to avoid a camera lens.

No surprisingly, Pynchon's elusiveness has only heightened his mythic 
reputation, fueling the literary equivalent of Beatlemania among fans of his 
work, who latch onto conspiratorial themes of his novels to divine the 
meaning of the author's hobbitlike behavior.  Even before the advent of the 
Web, where chat rooms and bulletin boards teem with Pynchonalia, wacked-out 
theories about his true identity circulated widely.

One writer claimed that J.D. Salinger and Pynchon were the same person.  
Others maintained that "Thomas Pynchon" was a pseudonym used by several 
different authors who wished to remain anonymous.  Then there were those who 
argued that Pynchon, a longtime resident of Northern California…was a member 
of the mysterious avant-garde rock group the Residents, who disguise 
themselves with giant eyeballs in their rare live performances.

Finally, a few gullibles even convinced themselves that Pynchon…was the 
Unabomber.  The arrest of Ted Kaczynski put that idea to rest. 

But if these were ways to create a kind of highbrow parlor game out of the 
man's retreat from celebrity-call it Where's Ruggles?-the question still 
remains:  Why was he hiding?

Maybe it all boils down to his buckteeth.  For years it was reported that 
Pynchon hates having his picture taken because he feels self-conscious about 
his oversized ivories…Whatever the reason-shyness or shame, or some other 
inscrutable feature of his personality-Pynchon himself has his own theory.  
In 1997, after a CNN camera crew managed to locate the novelist in Manhattan, 
Pynchon phoned to request that they not broadcast his image.  In the message 
he added this remark:  "My belief is that 'recluse' is a code word generated 
by journalists…meaning 'doesn't like to talk to reporters.'"


Elaine M.M. Bell, Writer
(860) 523-9225
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