Thomas Pynchon - Inherent Vice (Penguin, 2009) ****

[kelber at mindspring.com]

Describing the plot as "100% Pynchon" seems off the mark.  Don't want to stir the ashes of a recent flame war, but a certain noir-writer claims a high percentage of the plot.

Laura

-----Original Message-----
>From: Dave Monroe <against.the.dave at gmail.com>
>Sent: Dec 27, 2009 6:56 AM
>To: pynchon -l <pynchon-l at waste.org>
>Subject: Thomas Pynchon - Inherent Vice (Penguin, 2009) ****
>
>Boeken
>Blog voor boekenliefhebbers. Mijn eigen ideeën en hopelijk suggesties.
>Wissel ook eens van gedachten!
>
>Saturday, December 26, 2009
>Thomas Pynchon - Inherent Vice (Penguin, 2009) ****
>
>
>In short: a hippie detective novel, drenched in weed and
>complot-theory paranoia, with the necessary film noir ingredients. It
>is without a doubt the most accessible of all Pynchon novels, which
>doesn't mean he has become a kind of mainstream writer. To wit : the
>average length of his sentences are ... normal, with some exceptions.
>The language, is of course full of early seventies slang and fashion
>lingo, but still relatively normal. The characters: well, although
>they're not your usual dective novel inhabitants, they're not too far
>off either : the bad guys, the cops, the good guys, informants and
>several with a very uncertain quality.The length : normal, 369 pages
>in the hardback edition.
>
>The plot? Well, the plot is Pynchon 100% : ex-girl friend shows up to
>tell hippy detective Doc Sportello that her current lover, the rich
>land-developer Michael Wolfman will be kidnapped. Then things happen
>in short succession: people get killed, witnesses disappear, Sportello
>becomes a suspect, the mysterious organisation "The Golden Fang"
>appear, a dead saxophonist re-appears, etc. All this against a
>background of dope, mystery, rock music, surfing, ESP, Charles Manson,
>Ouija boards, and some gambling.
>
>Appreciation : like many Pynchon novels : a treat, a pleasure to read
>his wonderful sentences and dialogue, the balance between plain fun,
>cynicism and criticism of society and human nature. The major Pynchon
>themes come back : paranoia, the corruption of power, be it elected,
>through money or otherwise generated, sex-crazed girls, absolute evil,
>and absurd madness - in the adventurousness, the fight scenes, the car
>chases.
>
>Anyway, the usual fun. Especially the great dialogues between Doc
>Sportello and his love/hate relationship with LAPD detective Bigfoot
>Bjornsen, his counterpart from the world of power.
>
>Here are some nice examples :
>"Congratulations, hippie scum," Bigfoot greeted Doc in his
>all-too-familiar 30-weight voice, "and welcome to a world of
>inconvenience. Yes, this time it appears you have finally managed into
>something too real and deep to hallucinate your worthless hippie ass
>of." He was holding, and now and then taking bites from, his trademark
>chocolate-covered frozen banana.
>(Sportello:) "Howdy Bigfoot. Can I have a bite?"
>"Sure can, but you'll have to wait, we left the rottweiler back at the
>station".
>
>
>or another
>"Been doing a little acid, there, Bigfoot?"
>"Not onless you mean the stomach variety."
>
>or another one :
>"(Bigfoot) nooded at Doc's shirtpocket. 'Mind if I have one of those?"
>"You don't want to start smoking, Bigfoot, smoking's bad for your ass."
>"Yes, well I wasn't planning to smoke it in my ass, was I??"
>"How am I spoze to know that?"
>
>But the description of the drug-related experiences are also quite fun.
>"On certain days, driving into Santa Monica was like having
>hallucinations without going through all the terrible trouble of
>acquiring and then taking a particular drug, although some days, for
>sure, any drug was preferable to driving into Santa Monica".
>
>Or when he thinks he's dropped of in an exact replica of the place he
>expects to be, albeit not the real place, he stops the first
>pedestrian he meets :
>"Excuse me, sir, I seem to be a little disoriented? could you please
>tell me if this is by any chance Gordita Beach" as sanely as he could
>manage, and instead of running off in panic after the nearest law
>enforcement, this party said, "Wow, Doc, it's me, you okay? you look
>like you're freaking out," and after a while Doc dug how this was
>Denis, or somebody impersonating Denis, which, in the circumstances,
>he'd settle for".
>
>He still writes, although occasionaly these one-page sentences. Or
>just plain beautiful descriptions, such as this one :
>
>"Later they went outside, where a light rain was blowing in, mixed
>with salt spray feathering off the surf. Shasta wandered slowly down
>to the beach and through the wet sand, her nape in a curve she had
>learned, from times when back-turning came into it, the charme of. Doc
>followed the prints of her bare feet already collapsing into rain and
>shadow, as if in a fool's attempt to find his way back into a past
>that despite them both had gone on into the future it did. The surf,
>only now and then visible, was hammering his spirit, knocking things
>loose, some to fall into the dark and be lost forever, some to edge
>into the fitful light of his attention whether he wanted to see them
>or not. Shasta had nailed it. Forget who - what was he working for
>anymore?"
>
>In sum, it's hilarious and still literature.
>
>In any case it is an easy entry point for those who've never read
>Pynchon, yet not of the same level or scope of "The Crying Of Lot 49",
>"Gravity's Rainbow" or "Vineland".
>
>You can watch a promotional video for the book with the voice of
>Pynchon himself. Even we don't know his face, at least now we will
>recognize his voice, if and when you would cross him on the street
>.....
>
>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjWKPdDk0_U
>
>http://literatuur2.blogspot.com/2009/12/thomas-pynchon-inherent-vice-penguin.html