eGad: Pynchon excerpt from new novel (fwd)

[Ghetta Life]

God.  Please tell me this is a joke!

Ghetta

>From: the Robot Vegetable <veg at dvandva.org>
>
>The new Penguin Press catalog has an excerpt from Pynchon's "Against the 
>Day," which I thought I'd transcribe for you:
>
>Back in 1899, not long after the terrible cyclone that year which 
>devastated the town, Young Willis Turnstone, freshly credentialed from the 
>American School of Osteopathy, had set out westward from Kirksville, 
>Missouri, with a small grip holding a change of personal linen, an extra 
>shirt, a note of encouragement from Dr. A. T. Still, and an antiquated Colt 
>in whose use he was far from practiced, arriving at length in Colorado, 
>where one day riding across the Uncompahgre plateau he was set upon by a 
>small band of pistoleros. "Hold it right there, Miss, let's have a look at 
>what's in that attractive valise o'yours."
>     "Not much," said Willis.
>     "Hey, what's this? Packing some iron here! Well, well, never let it be 
>said Jimmy Drop and his gang denied a tender soul a fair shake now, little 
>lady, you just grab ahold of your great big pistol and we'll get to it, 
>shall we." The others had cleared a space which Willis and Jimmy now found 
>themselves alone at either end of, in classic throwdown posture. "Go on 
>ahead, don't be shy, I'll give you ten seconds gratis, 'fore I draw. 
>Promise." Too dazed to share entirely the gang's spirit of innocent fun, 
>Willis slowly and inexpertly raised his revolver, trying to aim it as 
>straight as a shaking pair of hands would allow. After a fair count of ten, 
>true to his word and fast as a snake, Jimmy went for his own weapon, had it 
>halfway up to working level before abruptly coming to a dead stop, frozen 
>into an ungainly crouch. "Oh, pshaw!" the badman screamed, or words to that 
>effect.
>     "Ay! Jefe, jefe," cried his lieutenant Alfonsito, "tell us it ain' 
>your back again."
>     "Damned idiot, o' course it's my back. Oh mother of all 
>misfortune--and worst than last time too."
>     "I can fix that," offered Willis.
>     "Beg your pardon, what in hell business of any got-damn pinkinroller'd 
>this be, again?"
>     "I know how to loosen that up for you. Trust me, I'm an osteopath."
>     "It's O.K., we're open-minded, couple boys in the outfit are 
>evangelicals, just watch where you're putting them lilywhites 
>now--yaaagghh--I mean, huh?"
>     "Feel better?"
>     "Holy Toledo," straightening up, carefully but pain-free.
>     "Why, it's a miracle."
>     "Gracias a Dios!" screamed the dutiful Alfonsito.
>     "Obliged," Jimmy guessed, sliding his pistol back in its holster.

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