Unanswered questions about Byron the Blurb...

[David Kipen]

It strikes me that all the inklings offered us in the Amazon blurb fall into
roughly three categories: 1) certain places at certain times, viz., the
Chicago World's Fair of 1893, labor troubles in Colorado,
turn-of-the-century New York, Siberia at the time of the mysterious Tunguska
Event, Mexico during the Revolution, postwar Paris, and silent-era
Hollywood; 2) certain places at *uncertain* times, viz., London and
Gottingen, Venice and Vienna, the Balkans, Central Asia; and 3) certain
people at *uncertain* times, viz., Nikola Tesla, Bela Lugosi, and Groucho
Marx. We're getting to know an awful lot about the first category, but not
so much about the latter two. So who'd care to hazard a guess about the
following:

When between 1893 and about 1920 will the book focus in turn on London and
Gottingen, Venice and Vienna, the Balkans, and Central Asia?

When will the book focus on Tesla, Lugosi, and Marx? It seems fair to guess
that Tesla will figure in the World's Fair of 1893 section, maybe in the
Colorado section, maybe in the Tunguska section, and just possibly in
a Wardenclyffe section set on TRP's natal Long Island.

But what about Lugosi and Marx? Will we see the former in Europe, perhaps
during his WWI stint in the Austro-Hungarian army? Will we see Groucho in
turn-of-the-century New York, a setting which we've so far discussed
tantalizingly little? Or will we see them both in silent-era Hollywood,
where Lugosi didn't appear on film until 1920 and didn't get a credit till
1923, and where Groucho didn't do a short till 1926 or a feature till 1929.
Not strictly 'years just after World War I,' are they?

I apologize for all this kremlinology. I'm not insensitive to the 'You've
waited nine years, can't you just sit still a few months longer?' argument.
But November is a long ways away, and we haven't even begun to ask whose
unrestrained corporate greed (J.P. Morgan's?), false religiosity, moronic
fecklessness (McKinley's? the Kaiser's?), and evil intent in high places.

Nor, if they're historic figures at all, which anarchists (Princip?),
balloonists, which gamblers, corporate tycoons (see above), drug
enthusiasts, innocents and decadents, mathematicians (Hilbert?), mad
scientists (Tesla?), shamans, psychics, and stage magicians, spies (Mata
Hari?), detectives (James McParland?), adventuresses, and hired guns.

Or would you all rather go back to talking about the Stones?

All finest,
David


Spanning the period between the Chicago World's Fair of 1893 and the years
just after World War I, this novel moves from the labor troubles in Colorado
to turn-of-the-century New York, to London and Gottingen, Venice and Vienna,
the Balkans, Central Asia, Siberia at the time of the mysterious Tunguska
Event, Mexico during the Revolution, postwar Paris, silent-era Hollywood,
and one or two places not strictly speaking on the map at all.

With a worldwide disaster looming just a few years ahead, it is a time of
unrestrained corporate greed, false religiosity, moronic fecklessness, and
evil intent in high places. No reference to the present day is intended or
should be inferred.

The sizable cast of characters includes anarchists, balloonists, gamblers,
corporate tycoons, drug enthusiasts, innocents and decadents,
mathematicians, mad scientists, shamans, psychics, and stage magicians,
spies, detectives, adventuresses, and hired guns. There are cameo
appearances by Nikola Tesla, Bela Lugosi, and Groucho Marx.

As an era of certainty comes crashing down around their ears and an
unpredictable future commences, these folks are mostly just trying to pursue
their lives. Sometimes they manage to catch up; sometimes it's their lives
that pursue them.

Meanwhile, the author is up to his usual business. Characters stop what
they're doing to sing what are for the most part stupid songs. Strange
sexual practices take place. Obscure languages are spoken, not always
idiomatically. Contrary-to-the-fact occurrences occur. If it is not the
world, it is what the world might be with a minor adjustment or two.
According to some, this is one of the main purposes of fiction.

Let the reader decide, let the reader beware. Good luck.

*--Thomas Pynchon*
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