the Merle center

[Michael Bailey]

as I have tried by the time-honored method (in which one protesteth too
mucheth) to make the case (by indirection) for Lew as moral center (or
centre)

and now append a caveat - I did nothing to prove Lew wasn't very helpful to
the Cohen

but moving on to a gentle compare / contrast

Lew - conscious of sin
fulfills a program of redemption with Drave et al
does work for White City
redeems himself by leaving it
finds a non-destructive use for dynamite (it gets him high!)
survives a bomb
learns the intricacies of the Tarot and pursues bombthrowers in London
sensitive to the beauties of eventide in Chicago

now for...
Merle - passionate about photography
marries a pregnant widow
accepts her betrayal with some grace
raises Dally a little too libertarianly some might say
falls in with the Candlebrow crowd
works on inventions and suchlike
makes friends with ball lightning
finds ginseng

sensitive to Dalley ("As Merle watched her sleep, an unmanly warmth about
the eyeballs would surprise him.  Her hearth-colored hair in a careless
child's snarl.  She was somewhere off wandering those dangerous dark
fields, maybe even finding there some version of himself, of Erlys, that
he'd never get to hear about, among the sorrowful truths, being lost, being
found, flying, journeying to places too detailed to be anything but real,
meeting the enemy, dying, being born over and over....He wanted to find a
way in, to look out for her at least, keep her from the worst if he
could....)

and capable of seguing from appreciation of a sunset all the way into a
"Barkis-is-willing" moment - p 506-7
"You could smell crude oil in the air.  The first wheelfolk of summer, in
bright sweaters and caps and striped socks, went whirring gaily in
battalion strength along the great viaduct on tandem bicycles, which seemed
to be a city craze that year.  Bicycle bells going nonstop, the massed
choruses of them, in all sorts of ragged harmonies, loud as church bells on
Sunday though maybe with a finer texture.  Roughnecks went in and out of
saloon doors and sometimes windows.  Elms cast deep shade over yards and
streets, forests of elms back when there were still elms in Cleveland,
making visible the flow of the breezes, iron railings surrounding the
villas of the well-off, roadside ditches full of white clover, a sunset
that began early and stayed late, growing to a splendor that had her and
Merle gazing at it in disbelief, and then at each other....
""It ain't a Euclid Avenue mansion, you may've noticed that already, but
it's warm and solid built, there's a leaf-spring suspension of my own
design that you'd think you were riding on a cloud."
""Sure, well being an angel I'm used to that."  But the brightest part of
that luridly exploding childhood sky was now right behind her face, and
some of her hair was loose, and she could detect in his gaze enough of what
he must be seeing, and they both fell silent."
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://waste.org/pipermail/pynchon-l/attachments/20120226/492a250f/attachment.html>