Starting the Group Read + SPOILERS (part two)

[kelber at mindspring.com]

[Oops -- the rest of my overly long e-mail got cut off.  On the off chance anyone feels like slogging through the entirety, scroll down:]


Back from vacation, I've spent the day skimming thru zillions of p-list e-mails.  Being as I have no life, I'm totally down for the group read, though, as explained below, I'd prefer to host a LATER chapter.

I had a tough time getting hold of the book as we drove through touristy areas of Maine.  Lots of bookstores filled with Maine lore, gardening, and needlepoint kind of stuff.  I finally found a bookstore that had IV not on the New and Recommended table up front, but callously shoved next to a lone copy of ATD in the fiction section at the back of the store.  At least later, in Montreal, there was a gratifying stack up front in a bilingual bookstore.

......SPOILER ALERT.....

Now, sad to say that although I approached the book with low expectations, I was still disappointed.  No!  NO! Don't set upon me with dismissive barbs, I can't help it!  I just didn't enjoy it all that much.  Sorry!  I'm still looking forward to the group read, though.  For the record, while I really disliked the first half, the second half was much better (though not to the point that it made slogging through the beginning worthwhile).  I knew it wasn't going to be a GR or even a V, COL49 or M&D.  I kind of hoped it would be an ATD or VL.  I'm not all that crazy about detective fiction, and I don't enjoy stoner humor when not stoned.  None of this should matter when reading Pynchon.  But here, it did.  I've tried reading Tom Robbins but I didn't like him, so I stopped.  But the beginning of IV reminded me not of why I worship TRP, but of why I dislike TR.  That's a problem.

A second warning sign that I wasn't happily in Pynchon land: As I was reading IV, my daughter was often sitting nearby reading Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon.  I found myself pausing in my read too often to ask her what part she was up to.  It's a problem if such a classic Pynchon wannabe seems more Pynchon-like than the Pynchon I'm reading.  I missed Pynchon.  I think Pynchon started missing Pynchon too, which is why the second half (roughly around the time the action switches to Vegas) got a little better.  I agree with what Rich said (forgive me, Rich, if I've misremembered or misunderstood), that there's nothing particularly new in the book.  There's certainly nothing mind-expanding or mind-blowing either.  It's OK with me if TRP wants to take a break.  He obviously had a blast writing this.  For god's sake, he's earned that.  He doesn't need to pander to frothing-at-the-mouth GR fans every time he punches a keyboard. In response to my daughter's polite inquiries re: my scowling, I said that it seemed like TRP had put his best out-takes from Vineland into ATD, and saved the worst for IV.  There was too much that was just, well, lame.  Things that were meant to be funny fell flat.  Example:  the Charlie the Tuna's death wish discussion.  Who hadn't made similar observations when watching those old commercials?

Some other specifics that really made me groan:

(p. 158):

"Jason took a withered joint from his pocket and lit up.  Doc recognized the smell of inexpensive Mexican produce, and also that someone had forgotten to remove the seeds and stems.  When Jason offered him a hit, he pretended to inhale and after a while handed it back.
'Righteous weed, man.'
'Yeah, just saw my dealer, he charges high, but it's worth it.'"

(p. 174):

"' ... Denis, you said you took driver ed in high school.'
'No, no, Doc, you said did they have Driver Ed, and I said yes 'cause they did, this dude Eddie Ochoa, that there wasn't a cop south of Salinas could get near him, and that's what everyone called him --'
'So, like, you ... never actually ... learned ...'"

What I dislike about these two examples is how TRP adds the final sentence to rub our noses in the extremely obvious.  I know, TRP's work is full of over-the-top cornball humor, it's just that there's so little to distract us from it here.

I also disliked this for its sappiness:

(p. 306):
[After Doc tells Shasta about his vision of her on the Golden Fang (which was pretty heavy-handed in itself)]:

"'I knew it!  I felt something then, and all I could think of was that somehow it might be you.  It was so creepy.'
'Must've been me, then.'
'No, I mean it felt like ... being haunted?'"

The whole first half seemed devoted to introducing myriad ditzy mini-skirted chicks and dumb-assed doofuses, unmediated by any of the great Pynchon prose.  The political references to Nixon and the CIA fall a little flat after 8 years of Reagan and 8 years of living under the rule of an evangelical/neo-con cabal.  And the whole real estate/mafia/politician/police connections been handled in films like Chinatown and LA Confidential and, I'm sure, myriad LA detective books.  There weren't enough positives to counterbalance the negatives. John Carvill's quoted some of the better prose (better, but never dazzling) in his review, which I really enjoyed reading.  And I liked the Doc-Coy scenes and the Doc-Bigfoot relationship.  Some of Sauncho's freaked-out asides were mildly funny.  That's about it.  I'm looking forward to the group read because I'm sure I'll appreciate the book more afterwards.

Laura