Underground Man

[Robin Landseadel]

After a month's delay, my copy of Ross Macdonald's "Underground  
Man" [1971] finally arrived in the mail. I'm detecting a source for  
Pynchon right on the first page:

	A rattle of leaves woke me some time before dawn. A hot wind
	was breathing in at the bedroom window. I got up and closed
	the window and lay in bed and listened to the wind.

	After a while it died down, and I got up and opened the window
	again. Cool air, smelling of fresh ocean and slightly used West
	Los Angeles, poured into the apartment. I went back to bed and
	slept until I was wakened in the morning by my scrub jays.

	I called them mine. There were five or six of them taking turns at
	dive-bombing the window sill, then retreating to the magnolia
	tree next door.

	I went into the kitchen and opened a can of peanuts and threw
	a handful out the window. The jays swooped down into the yard
	of the apartment building. I put on some clothes and went down
	the outside stairs with the rest of the can of peanuts.

	It was a bright September morning. The edges of the sky had a·
	yellowish tinge like cheap paper darkening in the sunlight.
	There was no wind at all now, but I could smell the inland
	desert and feel its heat. .

	I threw my jays another handful of peanuts and watched the
	birds scatter on the grass. . .