eGad: Pynchon excerpt from new novel

[mikebailey at speakeasy.net]

> -----Original Message-----
> From: Paul Mackin [mailto:paul.mackin at verizon.net]
 Subject: Re: eGad: Pynchon excerpt from new novel
> 
> Sounds like it's patterned after the pulp-western writing  style used  
> in Forbes Parkhill's "the Kenosha Kid."
> 
> Colorado locale as well.
>

or Warlock?  an erudite mutation of the pulp style (which I haven't read yet, but did read _Ambrose Bierce and the Queen of Spades_ by Oakley Hall which was really really good)

also, note the osteopathy reference, this is an interesting school of thought and the inventor was also pretty cool - taught the primo chiropractor before that guy in turn invented chiropractic - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osteopathy (obligatory wikipedia link)

There's a 1st edition of Andrew Still's autobiography in the library near here (Kansas, as Kerouac mentioned, being full of mad visionaries), non-circulating, I keep meaning to spend an afternoon over there with it

Just tried to read Blood Meridian, it's over my head and far more violent than anything I'd want to visualize (though something like "Glanton... [viewed a leaf, and]... its perfection was not lost on him" is almost enough to render me sanguine about wading through all that blood)

but I'm not a total wimp:  I loved CM's "No Country for Old Men" 
it was pretty fantastic, still sad and scary and violent, yet wonderful, succinct but full, even lush!  
 
> 
> 
> 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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