Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Crying of Lot 49: Did Oedipa Escape the Tower?

In Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49, there is definitely some sort of critique of female, middle class passivity. However, I am particularly interested in what is going on with the roles of women. In the beginning Oedipa's quest is mapped out as her attempt to escape from the tower, which she can do by marriage, finding some sort of hobby, or by going insane. As the novel continues we see her quest to get to the bottom of this whole postal mystery become her sort of hobby and mental illness. She is possibly insane possibly not, probably somewhere in the middle there. She is obsessed with this completely arbitrary trail of clues leading to what sort of end we are not sure, and in the end we are not even sure what happened with the quest as it ends with Oedipa awaiting the crying of lot 49 in which she is certain she will find the answers/ end to her quest but alas, the reader will never know.
One couple lines, in light of this quest, I want to examine more closely in this blog post. When Oedipa goes to Bortz's house and speaks briefly with his wife Grace she inquires about how Oedipa escaped her children that day, to which Oedipa responds she has none. Then Grace looking surprised says, "There's a certain harassed style...you get to recognize. I thought only kids caused it. I guess not"(Pynchon 124). I was curious at first as to what is going on with this remark. Perhaps the novel is saying Oedipa's quest has taken place of having a husband and kids, but has still had the same affect on her; a "harassed" affect. But if that is the case, is the novel advocating for the quest or against it? Oedipa doesn't seem to have escaped the tower, and doesn't seem to have become less passive although she embarked on this quest as an alternative route to marriage and motherhood, and an attempt to find meaning. However, the point of the novel seems to be that there is no escape. Oedipa is still as harassed as motherhood would've left her. So, clearly Oedipa did not escape the tower. However, I'm still left with so many questions: If Oedipa is a cautionary tale, what is the right path to escape from the tower? Or is there no escape at all?

hopeless relationships

Oedipa forms relationships with many of the people she encounters on her journey for truth that are beyond acquaintance level and affect her emotionally. She repeatedly questions, in the 6th chapter, who could she be that all of her relationships have changed. The beginning of her journey is caused by her romantic relationship to Pierce before she marries Mucho, creating for herself this complication. This relationship is not completely moral as she is dating Mucho and even refers to herself as Pierce’s mistress when they were together. This relationship ends because of her commitment to Mucho. In the very beginning of the novel we are presented with her annoyance of her husband, foreshadowing her unfaithfulness and hopelessness in their relationship. She then has to work with Metzger and immediately has an affair with him but has some hope in their relationship. We also get a sense of her lack of trust in her shrink and his LSD experiments. She also has very intricate relationships with almost every other acquaintance she has throughout the novel.
            By the end of the novel, Oedipa claims these relationships have changed and does not consider her as the cause for at least some of them. She begins to distance herself and even admits of her isolation and withdrawnness at the peak of her discovery of the W.A.S.T.E system. I do not know what she expects from a husband who she doesn’t want to be around, a shrink that experiments with LSD, a romantic affair, and strangers who she questions about something that is supposed to be a secret. It is her distance from these characters and her distance from them that creates these relationship failures. Though she cannot be blamed for the hopeful lead of Randy Driblette and his ultimate killing himself before she could meet with him, she does shy away from people that Bortz tries to connect her with to give her answers.
            These relationship failures could either be a support of her paranoia that we have seen throughout the novel in that she perceives these characters to have changed when really she just lacks trust in their commitment to her; or this could be support for the theory of her being setup and these characters were all involved.

Monday, January 23, 2012

A Summation of Confusion


                 During our discussion of chapters four and five in class on Thursday, I found myself wondering if maybe, this “quest” that Oedipa was on to find meaning was a subconscious way of keeping herself sane in her mundane life.  This “quest” added excitement to her life and there was always another clue to look for and interpret, even if she was not so great at finding and interpreting the clues herself.  However, thinking about this idea more, if this is the case that her “quest” is a way to keep her sane, it is ironic that the very quest that is supposed to keep her sane, is in actuality driving her crazy – she does not have a grasp on what is reality and what is not, and neither does the reader.  I think that the irony in this goes along with the rest of the book, which seems to have a lot of irony in it.  Pynchon meant for a number of ironic ideas to go with the book, including the fact that he is making fun of literary criticism and here we are in a literature class analyzing his book and talking about the idea that he is making fun of the very thing we are doing.
I remember someone saying in class that they had read The Crying of Lot 49 before, and that the ending does not have a final moment where everything from the books wraps up and is explained.  However, I did find that the last chapter did a wonderful job of summing up how I felt about the book, or rather the confusion I felt while reading it.  The question I kept asking myself, and I am sure I am not the only person in class asking this, was: what is real, and what is just in Oedipa’s head?  Very close to the last chapter, the questions of fantasy and reality are wrapped up in a number of comparisons:
Behind the hieroglyphic streets there would either be a transcendent meaning, or only the earth…the bones of the GI’s at the bottom of Lake Inverarity were there either for a reason that matters to the world, or for skin divers and cigarette smokers.  Ones and zeroes…For there either was some Tristero beyond the appearance of the legacy of America, or there was just America… (150-51)
I really enjoyed reading this paragraph because it completely summed up my questions about reality and fantasy in the book, and even though there is no conclusion to everything, something about reading the questions of real and made up were good enough for me.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Fantasy State of Paranoia

In reading the final chapters of The Crying of Lot 49, the theme of fantasy arose in regard to Oedipa’s fear of what was real and what was false. This fear ties into the central theme of paranoia, or in this case a fantasy that allows her to think differently than the meaning she initially has in the novel, a monotonous suburban housewife in which she feels entrapped. In Oedipa’s quest, the true meaning she looks for constantly becomes altered first looking for an escape, then trying to uncover the symbol presented at The Scope, and finally for Trystero which eventually confuses Oedipa more and more within her own confusion of self and paranoia. Therefore, unless Oedipa lived within the true essence of her own paranoia the quest becomes a fantasy since the answers constantly are altered and eventually the entire system she was searching to uncover ultimately seems to be a labyrinth with no true way out.
            Before heading back to Kinneret, the narrator describes her desire to talk with Dr. Hilarius about her recently collected information and a desire for him to let her know what is  real: “she wanted it all to be a fantasy – some clear result of her several wounds, needs, dark doubles. She wanted Hilarius to tell her she was some kind of a nut and needed a rest . . . she also wanted to know why the chance of its being real should menace her so”(Pynchon 107). Oedipa is clearly afraid of the real, of what lies outside the typical norm of paranoia around her. Therefore I believe in the final chapters, Pynchon leaves Hilarius to act as a contradiction to the apparent normative status of the other characters: paranoid. Hilarius admits to have never taken LSD which he prescribed to most of his patients that were dealing with paranoia: “I chose to remain in relative paranoia, where at least I know who I am and who the others are” (111). Hilarius decides that amidst the paranoia in the suburban culture he lives in, he will simply stay in his own space without influence from drugs. Pynchon slips in his own notion that everyone lives in some state of paranoia whether it is visibly noticeable or just a personal state. Ironically, unlike the other characters, the main prescriber to combat the so-called  “paranoia” does not even take the drugs to resist it; instead he tries to understand his own meaning. Similarly, Hilarius begs her to live in her fantasy when she begs him to reason her out of it: “what else do any of you have? Hold it tightly by its tentacle, don’t let the Freudians coax it away or the pharmacists poison it out of you. Whatever it is, hold it dear, for when you lose it you go over by that much to others. You begin to cease to be” (113). Hilarius tries to make her understand that by rejecting her idea of the fantasy she lives within, she in turn gives into the paranoia that surrounds her and will be unable to find the meaning in a clear and reasonable state. I would argue that this idea of paranoia that Hilarius represents, is his way of urging the reader to not give into their paranoia but to try to understand it for what it is, since that makes up part of an individuals meaning.

The Hyperreal in The Crying of Lot 49

For some reason, the scene where Mucho interviews Oedipa after she has tried to talk Doctor Hilarius down is very memorable and interesting for me. It’s interesting because of the complex way that it deals with distortion and alteration as brought about by the process of simulation and reproduction. What really interests me is the idea that Mucho is aware of the types of alteration that will occur and even though he asks Oedipa to “just be [her]self” he calls her Edna on the air because of the “distortion on these rigs, and then when they put it on the tape” (113-114). First, this is interesting to me because it engages with the problems inherent in Baudrillard’s claim that the world has become basically hyperreal. When I was first introduced to the idea of the hyperreal my knee-jerk reaction was “so what?” That is, I couldn’t understand what the big deal was with the replacement of one reality with a simulation of that reality that is functionally indistinguishable, except for the fact that this hyperreality was ostensibly less “authentic.” So this section of the novel brings to light the problem of the hyperreal- that the simulation invariably alters whatever it claims to imitate.

Next, and more interestingly to me, is the idea that Mucho attempts to preempt this alteration in his description of his wife over the airwaves. What occurs is that Mucho is actualizing what he expects will ultimately be the hyperreal within the real. That is to say, instead of dealing with the real (in this case Oedipa’s actual name) he changes it in its initial utterance (the real) into the alteration that would occur through the process of media. This is a perfect dramatization of the way that that the hyperreal in Baudrillard’s conception comes in to existence because, once it’s broadcast in its “original” form (i.e. when Mucho’s utterance of “Edna” has been altered back to “Oedipa” by the radio) it is several steps removed from the actual original content of Oedipa’s name and her “being herself.”

This type of removal from “original” or “actual” content or acts happens constantly over the length of the novel. For instance, I’m reminded of the origin story for the Peter Pinguid Society where there are so many things that “might” have happened and that “possibly” occurred; they can’t be any more specific because no witnesses remain. Even more, although it is described as the first conflict between Russia and America, it becomes clear that nothing actually happened, “attack, retaliation, both projectiles deep sixed forever and the Pacific rolls on” (36). So, that the whole Peter Pinguid Society is based on a basically unverifiable historical story shows that it is, in a way, a hyperreal entity.

Communication Breakdown-Zeppelin and Pynchon

"Communication breakdown, its always the same, I'm having a nervous breakdown, Drive me insane"

These are such wise words from Bonham, Jones, and Page, words that apply eerily well to Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49. At its core, the novel is all about communication. Although it could be said that the most prevalent theme is Oedipa’s search for meaning, what goes hand in hand with her desire for meaning is the communication of that meaning. Oedipa perpetually and eagerly awaits the arrival of “the word”. During her “religious instant” while observing the “printed circuit” that is San Narciso, she is comforted by the “unexpected, astonishing clarity” she gains from the appearance of the place (14). She gets a “sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate,” and feels as if “words were being spoken” (14). The connection between the greater Truth she seeks and communication is quite obvious here, and it continues on throughout the novel. Looking for signs on the walls of a woman’s latrine, she cannot explain why, but she feels “threatened by this absence of even the marginal try at communication” (53). Oedipa desires “the word,” or a sign, really any indication of communication, so badly that the absence of it is actually intimidating to her. She takes comfort in communication and fears the lack of it. This absence however, is inevitable, as is made clear by the Courier’s Tragedy. Oedipa and the reader are made aware of a “ritual reluctance” which will become characteristic not only of the play within the novel, but of the novel itself (55). Oedipa and the reader, I believe, are meant to take this as a warning from Pynchon. This “ritual reluctance” is a reluctance to communicate, it is stated that “certain things” “will not be spoken aloud,” that the Duke in the play and the novel itself “may not, enlighten us” (55). Then there is the Nefastis machine debacle, in which “Communication” is said to be “the key” (84). It represents yet another failed attempt at communication for Oedipa. Immediately after she it told how communication is key, she responds by saying “you’re not reaching me,” which, oddly enough, in keeping with the rock music theme of this passage, makes me think of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortable Numb” (85). The excessive intake of information from the machine makes communication impossible. Just as the excessive amount of information that Oedipa attempts to take in eventually makes communication impossible for herself. Her search for a “direct, epileptic Word” leads her to the deaf-mute congregation in a hotel lobby, which becomes her “anarchist miracle,” the very thing she is most fearful of, a complete loss of communication (107). “Like literary critics,” Oedipa is “utterly devoted” to the Word, and, in the long run, as she waits for a “winged brightness to announce its safe arrival,” she only finds “silence” (128). She is forced to come to terms with the fact that “she could not communicate” (134). And, as was mentioned in the Zeppelin song, Oedipa is left with only a nervous breakdown, and encroaching insanity.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

What is in a name?

We have discussed in class multiple times that Pynchon enjoys making fun of our need to analyze and find meaning where none exists. I think one of the prime examples of this is in his naming of the characters.

The main character, Oedipa, is one such example. Obviously, the first thing we think of when we see this name is of the play by Sophocles, Oedipus Rex. Pynchon further alludes to this connection when Oedipa goes to see The Courier's Tragedy in chapter 4. Pynchon wants the reader to make this connection--he wants us to try to find meaning where there is none. Oedipa's story, her character, her thoughts have no connection to the Greek play and yet that is the first place our minds jump.

Furthering the name-play is Oedipa's therapist/doctor, Dr. Hilarious. We see that he is aptly named in the first chapter with his conversation with Oedipa. Not only does he wake her up in the middle of the night, he doesn't seem to even treat her like a doctor who believes in her condition saying when Oedipa mentions that she's having a hallucination, "Don't describe it . . . Well. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about" (8). It is as though Pynchon is making fun of this 'quack' doctor by giving him such a ridiculous name. And this of course encourages the reader to make a connection where there is none.

Other such names that Pynchon uses to make fun of the absurd nature to find meaning is found with the meeting of Mike Fallopian, Randolph Dribblette, and Stanley Koteks. All three of these character's names allude to something that has absolutely no relation with the plot or what is happening with the story--yet they encourage the reader to attempt to make connection. Mike Fallopian perhaps alluding to Oedipa being trapped into her gender role of suburban house wife. Randolph Dribblette referring to the dribbles of information he spills that connects Oedipa to a sort of paranoi. Stanley Koteks with a certain brand of feminine products not exactly known for their absorbent qualities.

The connections between these names mean nothing and Pynchon is teasing the reader--taunting them, asking them to try to connect the dots.