IVing IV 'indict a bean burrito', p. 277

[Mark Kohut]

Yes!.....another find from Chandler's world.......TRP updates with bits of
his themes.....................

--- On Tue, 12/1/09, Robin Landseadel <robinlandseadel at comcast.net> wrote:

> From: Robin Landseadel <robinlandseadel at comcast.net>
> Subject: Re: IVing IV 'indict a bean burrito', p. 277
> To: pynchon-l at waste.org
> Date: Tuesday, December 1, 2009, 12:37 PM
> On Dec 1, 2009, at 3:00 AM, alice
> wellintown wrote:
> 
> > Who is driving the conversaton?
> 
> Maybe it's all simpler than we're making it out. Maybe the
> conservation is really being driven by Pynchon's obvious
> literary model:
> 
>     She stood up suddenly and came near me.
> "You're in a
>     business that doesn't pay fortunes,
> aren't you?"
> 
>     I nodded. We were very close now.
> 
>     "Then what would it be worth to you to
> walk out of here and
>     forget you ever saw me?"
> 
>     "I'd walk out of here for free. As for
> the rest, I have to make a
>     report."
> 
>     "How much?" She said it as if she meant
> it. "I can afford a
>     substantial retainer. That's what you
> call it, I've heard. A much
>     nicer word than blackmail."
> 
>     "It doesn't mean the same thing."
> 
>     "It could. Believe me, it can mean just
> that-even with some
>     lawyers and doctors. I happen to know."
> 
>     "Tough break, huh?"
> 
>     Far from it, shamus. I'm the luckiest
> girl in the world. I'm alive."
> 
>     "I'm on the other side. Don't give it
> away."
> 
>     "Well, what do you know," she drawled.
> "A dick wiIh scruples.
>     Tell it to the seagulls, buster. On me
> it's just confetti. Run along
>     now, Mr. PI Marlowe, and make that
> little old phone call you're
>     so anxious about, I'm not restraining
> you."
> 
>     She started for the door, but I caught
> her by the wrist and spun
>     her around. The tom blouse didn't reveal
> any startling
>     nakedness, merely some skin and part of
> a brassiere. You'd
>     see more on the beach, far more but you
> wouldn't see it through
>     a torn blouse.
> 
>     I must have been leering a little,
> because she suddenly curled
>     her fingers and tried to claw me.
> 
>     "I'm no bitch in heat," she said between
> tight teeth.
> 
>     "Take your paws off me."
> 
>     I got the other wrist and started to
> pull her closer.
> 
>     She tried to knee me in the groin, but
> she was already too
>     close. Then she went limp and pulled her
> head back and
>     closed her eyes. Her lips opened with a
> sardonic twist to them.
>     It was a cool evening, maybe even cold
> down by the water. But
>     it wasn't cold where I was.
> 
>     After a while she said with a sighing
> voice that she had to dress
>     for dinner.
> 
>     I said, "Uh-huh."
> 
>     After another pause she said it was a
> long time since a man
>     had unhooked her brassiere. We did a
> slow turn in the direction
>     of one of the twin day beds. They had
> pink and silver covers on
>     them. The little odd things you notice.
> 
>     Her eyes were open and quizzical. I
> studied them one at a time
>     because I was too close to see them
> together. They seemed
>     well matched.
> 
>     "Honey," she said softly, "you're awful
> sweet, but I just don't
>     have the time."
> 
>     Raymond Chandler, Playback, pages 28/29
> 
> Updating the Noir conventions of dames & molls &
> heels & shamuses requires a minor adjustment or
> two—women who make the first moves, sinsemilla instead of
> Tanqueray, explicit stagings instead of innuendo. But the
> loveless sex, the 'hostile takeovers' are very much in the
> tradition.
> 
>     It's kind of revealing, isn't it?
> Revealing? It's positively risque - I
>     like it. She said: "You're a man with a
> thousand Gs, right?"
>     
>     [J:] "A thousand what?" I quipped.
> "G-men, girls, guns, guts."
> 
>     [H:] "You're my type."
> 
>     [J:] "Wrong, baby" I slapped her hard.
> "I'm a `L' man: strictly
>     liquor, love and laughs."
>     Bonzo Dog Band—Big Shot
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
>