Kathryn Hume's other Pynchon stuff

[Markekohut]

F'in beautiful, rhythmic as music, as lyrical as--you name him, even Wordsworth, .....the inner
American sea, homage to ole Her,an as well.....beautiful.

And, I say, you can't put it down without knowing it in the writer's inner Midwest and he does know. 




Sent from my iPad

On Sep 12, 2012, at 5:07 PM, Rich <richard.romeo at gmail.com> wrote:

> Could that be because the images are glimpsed
> in transit, from the road so to speak? Bit of a stretch I admit
> 
> Sent from my iPhone
> 
> On Sep 12, 2012, at 4:07 PM, malignd at aol.com wrote:
> 
>> Must disagree.  Although this is rich in images, it reads to me very sentimental and self-consciously poetic.  The girls the boys the chickens the hogs and heifers the farms the towns the blue birds, the Lizas and Chastinas etc. -- all straining-to-be-evocative plurals.  Not one observation of a single concrete image. 
>> 
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: Monte Davis <montedavis at verizon.net>
>> To: 'David Morris' <fqmorris at gmail.com>
>> Cc: 'pynchon -l' <pynchon-l at waste.org>
>> Sent: Wed, Sep 12, 2012 10:27 am
>> Subject: RE: Kathryn Hume's other Pynchon stuff
>> 
>> Less likely, I agree. But oh, when he does (AtD p. 71):
>> 
>> "They pushed out into morning fields that went rolling all the way to every
>> horizon, the Inner American Sea, where the chickens schooled like herring,
>> and the hogs and heifers foraged and browsed like groupers and codfish, and
>> the sharks tended to operate out of Chicago or Kansas City-the farm-houses
>> and towns rising up along the journey like islands, with girls in every one,
>> Merle couldn't help but notice, the extravagantly kept promises of island
>> girls, found riding the electric trolley-lines that linked each cozy city to
>> each, or serenely dealing cards in the riverside saloons, slinging hash in
>> cafeterias you walked downstairs into out of the redbrick streets, gazing
>> through doorscreens in Cedar Rapids, girls at fences in front of long fields
>> in yellow light, Lizas and Chastinas, girls of the plains and of
>> profusely-flowered seasons that may never quite have been, cooking for
>> threshers far into and sometimes all through the nights of harvest, watching
>> the streetcars come and go, dreaming of cavalry boys ridden off down the
>> pikes, sipping the local brain tonic, tending steaming wash tubs full of
>> corn ears at the street corners with radiant eyes ever on the move, out in
>> the yard in Ottumwa beating a rug, waiting in the mosquito-thick evenings of
>> downstate Illinois, waiting by the fencepost where the bluebirds were
>> nesting for a footloose brother to come back home after all, looking out a
>> window in Albert Lea as the trains went choiring by."
>> 
>> 
>> 
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: owner-pynchon-l at waste.org [mailto:owner-pynchon-l at waste.org] On Behalf
>> Of David Morris
>> Sent: Wednesday, September 12, 2012 9:35 AM
>> To: alice wellintown
>> Cc: pynchon -l
>> Subject: Re: Kathryn Hume's other Pynchon stuff
>> 
>> I believe you re mostly correct in these statements.  Pynchon can still
>> write beautiful and elaborate prose (but I think he's less likely to make
>> page-length sentences as in GR).  But I got the distinct feeling in AtD that
>> it was in the service of not much.  It almost felt at times that he was
>> imitating himself or following a formula.
>> 
>> David Morris
>> 
>> On Wed, Sep 12, 2012 at 5:11 AM, alice wellintown
>> <alicewellintown at gmail.com> wrote:
>> 
>> > So, I suspect that it is not the prose style, surely superior in the 
>> > elder P of AGTD, that turns GR-Fanboys off. It is other things, like 
>> > characters and themes and settings and, dare I say, plots. But it is 
>> > not the style, not the words and sentences and imagery and the craft. 
>> > No way! AGTD is superior hand at work. No serious reader or writer can 
>> > deny that.
>> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
>  
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