AtDTDA: 19 The Stupendica continues its civilian journey [523/524]

[robinlandseadel at comcast.net]

          Meanwhile, leaving its military double to wander the mists, 
          the Stupendica continued its civilian journey.

While everyone else tries to distract/misdirect Dally away from Kit and 
his strange fate, "another deep nudge from forces unseen. . . ." keeps 
pulling Dally into visionary experience, a psychic link to KIt, a bit of
karma that will take a while to work itself out. Bria tries to cheer Dally 
up with a nudge-nudge, wink wink on shipboard romances and proving 
her hypothesis by demonstration:

          . . . .playing not only Root Tubsmith but a good part of the 
          fourth-class passenger list like fish in an ornamental pond. 

We are back onboard the Stupendica. Dally searches for Kit who's simply 
not there anymore. The skipper promises to track him with a "wireless
message" [state of the art, doubtless]. Dally broods, dreams of a 
'merciless black 'Atlantic'

          At Gibralter the ship seemed to pause, as if waiting 
          for clearance.

. . . .and while paused, Dally dreams of Kit:

          Briefly she had a clear image of him somewhere far below. . . .
          . . . .about to embark on some impossible journey. . . .

. . . .and somehow knows that Kit's in for some big-time strangeness. 
She is placed far above the action—offered up a CoC POV, the type
of vista generally only offered in dreams or trance states. This 
passage of dream, stasis and barely glimpsed visions of great 
cities in ruin flows on to the next page, where it all morphs into a 
state of astral travel:

          . . . .she had exited her life briefly and been given the ability 
          to travel on a parallel course, close enough to watch herself 
          doing it, Dally discovered an alternate way to travel by land, 
          port to port, faster than the ship was moving. . . . 

. . . .in and out of sleep and dreams into the mythical city of Venice, 
where so many of the plot threads of Against the Day eminate:

          They paused at Venice in the fog in the middle of the night to 
          allow for some brief ghostly transaction. Dally woke, peered 
          out the porthole and saw a flotilla of black gondolas, each with 
          a single lantern, each bearing a single cloaked passenger, 
          who all stood solidly gazing ahead into  something only they 
          seemed to understand. This is Venice? she remembered 
          thinking, then went back to sleep.

This reminds me so much of the six of swords from the Rider-Waite Tarot deck:

          Divination Usage

          A hasty decision, greed and/or thoughtless behavior, the individual 
          acts in an impulsive fashion. It represents secret plans, hidden 
          dishonor, frustration and the possibility of failure.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_of_Swords

The details of the card differ from the gloriously dim vision of the novel, but
still paint a portrait of a solo passenger ferried away on a dangerous journey,
probably in response to some karmic blowback. The "single lantern, single 
cloaked passenger" also points to to the Hermit:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:RWS-09-Hermit.jpg

          Some say that The Hermit is a Threshold Guardian, representing 
          an obstacle the Querant, the hero of the piece, must overcome 
          to move on.

          A potentially dangerous aspect of The Hermit is his retreat, his 
          isolation. We all need to retreat sometimes; retreat and renewal 
          are necessary for growth. But The Hermit may be tempted to 
          completely withdraw from the world, not because the journey is 
          done, but because the dragons of the real are too daunting, or
          because the trivial pleasures of the cave are too intoxicating. 
          Withdraw at the wrong time, stay withdrawn too long, and growth 
          stops. The cowl The Hermit wears protects him and isolates him. 
          Hopefully, at some point, he casts it off and rejoins the world.

          Some say that The Hermit represents the time we learn our true 
          names; who we really are. The Greek philosopher Thales is 
          reported to have been asked “what is the most difficult of all 
          things?” To which he is said to have answered “To know yourself.” 
          The Hermit is given time to obey the Delphic Oracle’s demand: 
          know thyself.

          The design has been alleged to represent the historic hermit from 
          Ancient Greece, Diogenes, who with his lantern was looking for an 
          honest man. The name "hermit" is also from the name of the Greek 
          god Hermes.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hermit

In the morning, the ship debarks at Trieste. In a most roundabout way 
this references to Rilke, who is the probable source for all tristerian 
complexes, he goes back so far very for Pynchon:

          Holy shit man, How would "holy shit" look on the book jacket? 
          What I mean is you have written, really and truly, a great out-of-sight 
          fucking book. For Jim Silberman I will get up something phrased          
          more acceptable to the family trade and all. But to you, wild colonial 
          maniac, about all I can say is holy shit. . . . This thing man picked 
          me up, sucked me in, spun and centrifuged my ass to where it was 
          a major effort of will to go get up and take a leak even, and by the 
          time it was over with I know where I have been.

          If you want comparisons, which you don't, I think most of Rilke.

          Thomas Pynchon, Letter to Richard Farina 
          published in "Positivly 4th Street" 
          by David Hajdu, pgs 270/271

There's several things you could glean from this letter—like Our Beloved 
Author sure could talk that 'jive', eh? [do any of us really wonder about 
him smoking that jive?]—but my little pointer [ahem] is aimed at:

          If you want comparisons, which you don't, I think most of Rilke.

He sure thought a lot about Rilke at the time, didn't he? First of all, the Crying 
of Lot 49 is about to be published, which features Trieste in the most 
deliberately roundabout way imaginable. But the big project at the time is, of 
course, Gravity's Rainbow. By the time it's published, Farina is the dedicatee
and the Duino Elegies are quoted in the text of this magnum opus. But not just 
quoted, summoned is more like it.

           ... around the 20th or 21st of January 1912 ... Rilke
           visited the princess Marie von Thurn und
           Taxis-Hohenlohe at the castle Duino just outside
           Trieste. He was in a crisis and even considered
           psychoanalytical treatment. However, during a walk
           alongside the cliffs, sloping some 200 feet down to
           the sea, words suddenly came to him: "Wer, wenn ich
           schriee, höre mich denn aus der Engel Ordnungen?"
           Rilke was actually contemplating his bookkeeping at
           the time, and he knew immediately that this impulse
           was the beginning of something remarkable. He took
           notes of the words, and during the rest of his stay at
           Duino, Rilke wrote the beginnings of most of his ten
           elegies.
 
           http://art-bin.com/art/oduinocontents.html

http://tinyurl.com/2lqz5p

http://tinyurl.com/2c7y65

           Dally allowed herself to be swept gently ashore in the bustle of 
           debarkation. It felt like she was standing still. She had never even 
           heard of this place. Never mind Kit for the moment—where was she?

Mark Kohut asked if music, or science or magic were the keys to understanding 
Pynchon. I will posit that it's angels that are most important, the most 
distinct, personal and unique feature in Our Beloved Author's ouvre has to do
with the narrative invoivement and interaction of the souls of the "dead":

           "Nature does not know extinction; all it knows is transformation. 
           Everything science has taught me, and continues to teach me, 
           strengthens my belief in the continuity of our spritual existence 
           after death.

           Wernher von Braun