GR translation: wheeling his bicycle

[Paul Mackin]

Does this mean that Pudding fancies the fishmonger's son, the meat 
substitute thing is just a ruse, and the evening's menu will include 
roast beast with two backs?

Just kidding of course--interesting angle, Alice.



P

On 6/29/2011 10:09 AM, alice wellintown wrote:
>> P81.36-38 ..., reeking of the sea (which he obtains once a week from the same fat fishmonger's son wheeling his bicycle, puffing, up the chalkwhite cliff)...
>>
>> I assume "wheeling" means pushing his bicycle and not riding it, is that correct?
>> And it's the fishmonger's son who is wheeling his bicycle up the cliff, right?
> At this point, young Pynchon is showing off, so he has his fingers in
> so many books, pulling threads, twisting yarn, spinning and wheeling.
> Shakespeare's book is far more important than Pavlov's book here. Of
> course, this is a general theme, the two cultures, and young P is keen
> to weave them together herem making romantic knights of his
> scientists. But these knights of science are not chivalrous. Chivalry,
> however, is not dead. Fathers and suitors, like mothers who fancy
> themselves a Mary to a Christ, and dream of stars to hang as emblems
> of their sons sacraficed to the War, exchange their daughters for
> words, words, words.
>
>   Two Allusions to Shakespeare here, both deal with daughters and the
> double dealing fathers who pretend to protect them, like Juliet's old
> man or the father who sells his daughter, the latest Dutchess, to the
> Duke in Browning's poem: Othello&  Hamlet.
>
> Rod.  Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you,
> If’t be your pleasure and most wise consent,—
> As partly, I find, it is,—that your fair daughter,
> At this odd-even and dull-watch o’ the night,
> Transported with no worse nor better guard
> But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
> To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor,—
> If this be known to you, and your allowance,
> We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;
> But if you know not this, my manners tell me
> We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe,
> That, from the sense of all civility,
> I thus would play and trifle with your reverence:
> Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
> I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
> Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
> In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
> Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself:
> If she be in her chamber or your house,
> Let loose on me the justice of the state
> For thus deluding you.
>
> HAMLET
> Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
>
>        POLONIUS
>   Not I, my lord.
>
>        HAMLET
>   Then I would you were so honest a man.
>
>        POLONIUS
>   Honest, my lord!
>
>        HAMLET
>    Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be
>    one man picked out of ten thousand.
>
>        POLONIUS
>    That's very true, my lord.
>
>        HAMLET
>    For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a
>    good kissing carrion—Have you a daughter?
>
>        POLONIUS
>    I have, my lord.
>
>        HAMLET
>    Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a
>    blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive.
>    Friend, look to 't.
>
>        POLONIUS [Aside.]
>     How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter:
>    yet he knew me not at first; 'a said I was a fishmonger.
>    'A is far gone, far gone: and truly in my youth I
>    suffered much extremity for love—very near this. I'll
>    speak to him again.—What do you read, my lord?
>
>        HAMLET
>    Words, words, words.
>