Inherent Vice Review, Dallas Morning News
Robin Landseadel
robinlandseadel at comcast.net
Sun Aug 23 11:53:31 CDT 2009
Book review: 'Inherent Vice' by Thomas Pynchon
12:00 AM CDT on Sunday, August 23, 2009
By JOHN FREEMAN / Special Contributor to The Dallas Morning News
John Freeman is acting editor of Granta and author of The Tyranny of E-
mail, forthcoming from Scribner.
California used to mean something. Not just Arnold Schwarzenegger and
the epicenter of pornography, or Kobe and Shaq and the occasional
backdraft of Beat era memorabilia. California was where things
happened that simply couldn't happen elsewhere in America because
there, as Joan Didion put it, "beneath that immense bleached sky, is
where we run out of continent."
Based on what little we know of his life, Thomas Pynchon probably
spent some time in California, looking into the abyss of its high blue
skies. He also wrote two books about it: The Crying of Lot 49, his
manic satire of a revenge story; andVineland, the most political novel
to come out of the 1980s, the book that examined what a decade of
greed had done to America.
In his zany new novel, Inherent Vice, Pynchon goes to the Golden State
again, tunneling back to the early 1970s, to paint a nostalgic
portrait of a fictional beach town north of LA. Here, the
counterculture has lost out to the forces of control, governmental
power and, well, sobriety.
Private dicks usually spend most of their time in the cups. Larry
"Doc" Sportello, the diminutive, ponytailed PI who narrates this
novel, tumbles through its story in a doper's haze. There is hardly a
scene in which he is not puffing, toking or jonesing for a joint. He
is so hooked crooked, that cops try to pay him off with pot.
But he does, amid the fog of skunky smoke, have a moral center. So
when his ex-girlfriend comes to him with word that her lover is about
to get whacked, Doc decides to investigate. He pulls one thread, and
200 others unravel to reveal the messy weave of 1970s Los Angeles
beach life.
Pynchon has always been a bit of a naturalist when it comes to
plotting a story. Anything and everything goes in. And so novels such
as Against the Day, his 1,200-page recent zeppelin of a novel, keep
all but the most maniacally intelligent readers scrabbling after them,
chasing their shadows.
Inherent Vice is no different. This may be a 370-page slapstick noir,
but to keep it all in your head, you'll need to remember the identity
of biker gang members, massage parlor hookers, bent cops, straight
cops, shady developers, gamblers, motorheads, bartenders, gay Vietnam
war veterans, new-age gurus, Doc's doper friends and the edgier beach
punk bands they all worship.
There's an untidy muchness to this universe that is about to be wiped
out; at least that's what Doc fears. The developers and politicians
and people in power don't want this ideological miscegenation, don't
want dopers and vets and Mexicans living atop one another on the
beach. They want to create steadily rising home values and vacuum-
packed suburban happiness.
Or maybe that's just Doc and everyone else's paranoia kicking in. With
all the dope they're smoking, everything and anything seems like a
possible conspiracy.
"Remember how they outlawed acid soon as they found out it was a
channel to something they didn't want us to see?" says one character,
messing around on the computer in the bowels of the early Internet.
Inherent Vice would seem like a cartoon of those times, were it not
all so true. Indeed, Southern California has become a developer's
paradise. Orange County is one of the most conservative parts of
America. It's impossible to tune in, turn on and drop out, because
even on the beach, which is now as polluted as ever, people are
plugged in to the mainframe. Amusingly, wistfully, Inherent Vice
reminds us it wasn't always so.
John Freeman is acting editor of Granta and author of The Tyranny of E-
mail, forthcoming from Scribner.
books at dallasnews.com
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/ent/stories/DN-bk_pynchon_0823gd.ART.State.Edition1.4baca64.html
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