eGad: Pynchon excerpt from new novel (fwd)

[Charles Albert]

The first sentence rings true.....and smells of O'Henry and Bierce.....


love,
cfa


On 8/3/06, the Robot Vegetable <veg at dvandva.org> wrote:
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> ---------- Forwarded message ----------
> Date: Thu, 3 Aug 2006 16:53:23 -0400
> From: Steven Moore <smoore3 at worldnet.att.net>
> Reply-To: gaddis-l at yahoogroups.com
> To: gaddis-l at yahoogroups.com
> Subject: eGad: Pynchon excerpt from new novel
>
> The new Penguin Press catalog has an excerpt from Pynchon's "Against the
> Day," which I thought I'd transcribe for you:
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> 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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> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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