IVIV (14): Byzantine Archways and Crystal Lusters

[Robin Landseadel]

"Heading up North Las Vegas Boulevard, away from the unremitting storm  
of light . . ." echos scenes of a similar nature in "Against the Day",  
reminiscences of the days in Venice prior to the advent of electric  
lights or mining outposts in Colorado all lit up as to deny the night.  
That " . . . separate "page right out of history" reminds us both of  
"The Flinstones" and the paleolithic sources of that light, more  
likely sourced from coal or gas-driven generators than wind, solar or  
hydro. The dimmer light of North Vegas also remind us where the juice  
really is in that neck of the woods.

"Place is a dump, man." The lack of illumination continues indoors. Of  
course, deliberate neglect was in the air during the era of Howard  
Hughes' ascension to power in Vegas. "Porte Cochere" is a front  
passageway that vehicles can pass through. Normally, at a Vegas  
casino, there would have been a valet. There is further demonstration  
of the dimness of North Vegas as compared to "The Strip". To be  
"Fulminated" in the attempt to lift AC via bootlegging power from  
municipal lines appears to be an awful fate—

	1. To issue a thunderous verbal attack or denunciation:
	fulminated against political chicanery.
	2. To explode or detonate.
	v.tr.
	1. To issue (a denunciation, for example) thunderously.
	2. To cause to explode.
	n.
	An explosive salt of fulminic acid, especially fulminate of
	mercury.

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/fulminated

Recovering gambling addict Tito tosses Doc a "Black", a wagering chip  
worth a hundred dollars. As kismet would have it, that chip improbably  
lead Doc to his one and only sighting of the Wolfmann.

The "Byzantine archway" points once more to the casino's name.  
Doubtless the architects of the "Kismet" had the 1953 musical in mind,  
with the musical's setting of Bagdad doubtless another layer of modern- 
day irony piled on top of all the other deliberate anachronisms.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kismet_(musical)

Pynchon's anthropomorphism extends to the gaming room's—

	. . . ruinous chandelier draped above the tables and cages and
	pits, disintegrating, ghostly, huge, and, if it had feelings, likely
	resentful—its lightbulbs long burned out and unreplaced,
	crystal lusters falling off falling off unexpectedly into cowboy
	hatbrims, people's drinks, and spinning roulette wheels, where
	they bounced with a hard-edged jingling through their own
	dramas of luck and loss.

This reminds me of the opening of Gravity's Rainbow:

	. . .No light anywhere. Above him lift girders old as an iron
	queen, and glass somewhere far above that would let the light
	of day through. But it's night. He's afraid of the way the glass will
	fall—soon—it will be a spectacle: the fall of a crystal palace. But
	coming down in total blackout, without one glint of light, only
	great invisible crashing.