Pynchon excerpt from new novel

[jbor at bigpond.com]

Holy Toledo, badman. I think you're on to something.

best

On 04/08/2006, Paul wrote:

>> when you google uncompahgre  kenosha you get a whole shit load of  
>> hits.
>>
>> the plateau and the  pass are in the  same general vicinity
>>
>> http://www.google.com/search? 
>> client=safari&rls=en&q=Uncompahgre+kenosha&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8


> Sounds like it's patterned after the pulp-western writing  style used
> in Forbes Parkhill's "the Kenosha Kid."
>
> Colorado locale as well.
>
> On Aug 3, 2006, at 4:53 PM, Steven Moore wrote:
>
> > 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.
> >
> >
> >
> > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
> >
> >
> >
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