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

[Page]

"Michael Wolfman [sic]"? I smell trouble (p. 7).


----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Dave Monroe" <against.the.dave at gmail.com>
To: "pynchon -l" <pynchon-l at waste.org>
Sent: Sunday, December 27, 2009 3:56 AM
Subject: Thomas Pynchon - Inherent Vice (Penguin, 2009) ****


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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



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