Last night several folks got together to discuss the first 242 pages of Thomas Pynchon’s new novel, “Against the Day.” It was a lovely meeting of bright minds, yielding numerous insights which will certainly help us as we lumber forward.
A big shout out to the intrepid souls accompanying me in the journey through this novel. Everyone knows I’m a bit of a “Pynchon fan.” I appreciate those who not only put up with this fanaticism, but also humor me to the point of adopting it, even if only for a time. You are rockstars and I should know better…
So what am I finding in this new novel so far? Like most Thomas Pynchon, there are colorful characters, historical events fantastically re-imagined, strange twists of science (old and new), and cadres of secret societies driving the world forward. I am, however, finding this book to have more purpose, certainly more warnings for the present, than some of his other works. Maybe I’ve just read a lot of Pynchon and am starting to tease it out more easily but this books wears a lot more of its heart on its sleeve, on the surface. I’ll expound more on this in the days to come but today I’ll just post an excerpt from one of my favorite parts of the book, sort of an homage to Kafka (indeed the character has been charged with a crime he is fairly certain he committed and yet cannot remember):
Lew went to register at the tall, rickety Esthonia Hotel. The lobby clerks and the bellmen on duty all acted like they’d been expecting him. The form he was given to fill out was unusually long, particularly the section headed “Reasons for Extended Residence,” and the questions quite personal, even intimate, yet he was urged to be as forthcoming as possible — indeed, according to a legal notice at the top of the form, anything less than total confession would make him liable to criminal penalties. He tried to answer honestly, despite a constant struggle with the pen they insisted he use, which was leaving blotches and smears all over the form. [p39]
So let’s unpack this passage just a bit today and look at why it is so indicative of the overall tenor of the book. First of all, even though Lew himself does not know the precise crime he has committed, everyone around seems to have made their judgment on the matter already - some wish to help and some wish to hinder. His wife leaves him and Lew finds himself guided to this hotel by someone he just met in the street. He is on auto-pilot, guided by external forces, strange penance for a crime he has no idea how to more deeply understand, yet has at least temporarily forgotten to question. The world is complicit in blocking this knowledge from him, bureaucracy kicking in and taking him along for a ride - the long, intensely personal form with a pen ill-suited for the purpose, yet externally and explicitly selected. This is man at his most hopeless desperate state, discovering where the world takes him. Will Lew ever find this as absurd as he should? Will he find a way “against the day?”
I love this feeling of inertia and consequence in the novel, that certain acts portend certain consequences which counterbalance the initial act but never quite in the way you would expect . I guess that’s my thought for reading today.
I also wanted to post some great links to explore this work further (hopefully before the NYT decides to expire them for non-subscribers - get ‘ em while they’re hot!). Liesl Schillinger is a reviewer for the New York Times. Unlike the Kakutani review which I thought did a disservice to those who might actually read “Against the Day”, Liesl appears to have really spent some time in deeper thought about it and has written a wonderful critique, acknowledging that while it may not be for everyone, there is indeed a lot to be had for those willing to pry it out.
An afterthought: Apologies to those who may have noticed the peculiar dearth of material available here lately. As one of the recently unemployed, I have been anxiously seeking out a new place to work, ideally someplace I can be excited about. Studying up on companies for phone screens, and trying to accurately assess what it is that I don’t know so that I can at least be honest about that with my interviewers has taken a lot of my time.
To be honest, anxiety in general has chipped away at my drive to spend as much time reading and writing as I would like. Paradoxically, this impediment is occurring just when one would expect I have all the time in the world to actually sit down and be productive. Alas, unlike so many others, apparently my writing comes from a place of comfort and security and not yet from traipsing into the unknown. It’s something I obviously need to work on but I like my house and I have a deep desire to keep it. Sue me.
So, all of that personal stuff aside, there was also a matter of some template issues with the blog breaking display on the website. Thanks much to my friend Ross for helping me get that squared away. We’re back up and running with a new, streamlined look.