The Crying of Lot 49, Week 5

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Here we go, friends!

A mighty showing, one and all! Well done careening collectively toward the finish!

And yes, this is a wee book. But the language is thorny, scenes swirl into each other, the comedy is mixed with some horror, intentional or otherwise. And it’s a Pynchon gol-dang it. Just picking it up off the shelf earns you an arched eyebrow and a round of applause coming from somewhere unclear.

Now comes the wrap, and as always, I don’t know about other folks — but you — you’re made of the stuff.

This coming week: We charge many-as-one, Mucho-style, for the back cover. Shout out when you make it, with closing thoughts. And then next week, in addition to hinting at and not really telling you much about The Mystery Prize, we’ll also offer up a glimmer of the plan for the idea of a January Meander, with a twist or two new to these adventures.

Happy Lot 49ing — enjoy it to the last. And thanks again for the excellent companionship and commentary at every step!

-Cecil

Enjoy your day!

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In Holland back in the 70s
most of the houses didn't do Halloween 
so my mom would drive us around town
looking for lit lanterns in windows.

There might be three or four blocks of driving
before we spotted a Pumpkin House.

Fellow Americans or Dutch families  
just being super nice.

And yes, I'll admit that I structured this
like a poem, 
but really it's just a memory 
I wanted to take a look at all these years later. 

Enjoy your day. Enjoy your memories. 

Happy Halloween!

The Sea Is Awash with Roses

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There’s this lovely poem by Kenneth Patchen that I sent out a while back on my lil poem-of-the-day mailing list (aka “The Richard Brautigan poem of the day”).

I sent it out and, you know, sometimes someone writes back, and this time a good pal wrote me to say “you should make that a song,” which I thought was a great idea.

Herewith, the first new “Virtual LP” track in a while. Lyric (c) Kenneth Patchen, who it turns out recorded this poem, somewhere along the line, in case you wanted to hear the rhythm he heard in his head.

Press Play to play.

Time: 1:27 seconds; Specs: 2.9M

The Crying of Lot 49 Meander, Week 4

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Happy Sunday Meanders — we are well and into the home stretch. Just two more tiny weeks to wrap. And yet, and yet: plenty of roadway for anyone who’s behind to catch up and make the lunge to the back cover. And you know, just imagine the holiday conversations as you try to explain what the hell to friends and family.

Thanks as always for a rich comment thread. It’s a gift to read these every week as a live communal response to the Intentionally Overcharged Adventures of Oedipa Mass.

Like many, I especially enjoyed this stretch. Like some, the Bay Area locations helped keep me tethered. And maybe this one is just me, but I’m pretty sure I met Stanley Koteks when I used to visit computer game companies in the mid-90s. I don’t think we talked, but he looked up when I walked by, unimpressed. No sensitive, me.

This coming week: What say we regroup at the end of Chapter 5, aka page 120 (HP). Please add your comment to this post although “by then it was too late to make any difference.”

Have a good week, and may all your trumpets stay unmuted. Assuming that’s a good thing. And maybe it’s not?

Scene from No Kings Day

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We marched with 20,000 powerful and peaceful protesters last Saturday, through the streets of my favorite town, down over to a space by the lake shore where the crowd could gather.

There was lady leading a great chant near us at one point along the way, and I looked over to see who the organizer was. It was a 70-year-old without a megaphone, by herself, just one person. Doing it.

“Whose streets?” she called. “Our streets!” we called back. And other great chants.

Her name was Christi. Not an organizer. Just part of the march. Someone else walking. A person with a voice.

“My mom was an opera singer,” she explained.

Man of Action

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If I order an egg bite I get 
my own little fork 
    a disposable hand     that fits my right hand.

Reading its palm I see a short life. But a good one.

Focus. Focus. 

I'm telling you, I'm not sitting around see,
waiting to see 
if the egg-bite-delivery guy brings me 
a little fork.

And then if he doesn't, I have to go get one while 
my egg bite cools. 

I mean: COME ON. 

That's not the life for me.

The Crying of Lot 49 Meander, Week 3

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I’ve been reading the comments right after I finish each section and that is such a rich dang experience. Thanks for the hellos, for the nuanced takes, for the fact checking and the flights of fancy. And thanks to Pynchon for sunken bones, floating heads, a courier’s tragedy (controversial to our crew), and a quick call-back to Metzger’s hairpiece.

Lots to think about. But the standout for me right now is the sense so many have that this reading experience is designed to trigger some firsthand discomfort and paranoia. How it is, somewhere near its core, a song sung by and to a band of paranoids

When we Meandered White Noise, many of us felt the plot was mirroring what we were living through day to day (2020). And it looks like late 2025 is a good time to tackle TCoL49.

“Is that real?” “Where have I heard that name?” “How does this fit together?” “What’s up with this grand communication conspiracy?” It’s all a little on the nose. But in a good way.

And if Pynchon seems to be sometimes having a little too much fun, I’m enjoying picturing him pause after a particular bit to giggle. The room is full of smoke, or maybe a couple kinds of smoke. It’s a thing.

This coming week: Speaking of pausing, this week we are going to catch our breath in the middle of a chapter. I know I know! Page 89 (HP), mid-Chapter 5. Please add your comment below when someone asks, “How’d you get a name like Arnold Snarb?” Thanks for your indulgence!

The Crying of Lot 49 Meander, Week 2

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When I was a kid there was a TV movie called A Circle of Children, starring tons of ’70s folks, and most especially featuring Albert from Little House on the Prairie, aka Matthew Labyorteaux as Brian O’Connell.

Brian was a young boy no one could understand. That is, until someone (Jane Alexander?) slowed down a tape recording of him and figured out he was just talking super fast.

<mind. still. blown.>

As a fast-talker myself, I always related to the pathos. And it came back to me this week in a meandering way, as I found myself reliving some literary version of that triumphant slow-it-all down moment.

I tackled TCoL49 for the first time two or three years back, and I loved it flaws and all. But I’m sure I also absorbed about 35%. Slowing things down this week, underlining character names and favorite quotes, reading passages aloud, it was like figuring out that Brian (aka Thomas Pynchon, ok this is getting ornate), was talking all along. With words!

I also had the ongoing joy this time around of one of the best Meander Comment Threads I can remember, including helpful links to paintings and Baby Igor-inspired rock n roll, choice lines galore, and reminiscences from SoCal childhoods.

All to say, very grateful to be on this journey together, and jazzed to dive into Week 2.

Speaking of which….

This coming week: Won’t you please enjoy all of Chapter 3, adding your comment on this post, pausing perhaps to tie your shoes at the bottom of HP (Harper-Perennial) page 63, where “the disk jockey talking was her husband, Mucho.”

Figure 2.1: The actor who played Albert on Little House on the Prairie (above) also won the U.S. Pac-Man championship in 1982, which seems like too much damn talent for one ’70s/’80s teen. Can you imagine losing to him and thinking, “but you already got to be Albert!” ?

The Crying of Lot 49 Meander, Week 1

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Hey nice people — you made it! And with that, welcome to Week 1, in which we launch this hardy crew out onto the trail. Just a reminder that we are slow-cooking this time around. You may have read the book before or you may be tempted to jump ahead, but humor me, won’t you? Let’s keep our focus on these weekly 30-page sprints and savor the Pynchon together.

I’m reading the Harper Perennial (HP) paperback, but there are plenty of other editions — for anyone taking another path, I’ll do my best to include a quote you can use to hang your hat on, whatever medium or printing you choose.

For those new to Pynchon I’ll share the one tip I’ve figured out with my modest experience — just to enjoy the sentences. Sometimes I get a little lost I’ll admit. But pretty much every page has a sentence to underline and delight in. And so we turn the pages, gem to shimmery gem.

So remind me one more time, how’s this thing work?

We’ll be reading T C of L 49 over the next 5 weeks — each week I’ll post the next week’s target. Read along, comment on each thread by week’s end, make it to the finish line, and you qualify for some unique digital thing I’ll figure out on the other side….

As always, I believe in you and your ability to read a book in thinly-sliced increments and post on a blog. I don’t know about everyone — but you? You’re a sure bet to make it to the end!

This week: Enjoy chapters 1 and 2, adding your comment (pithy or otherwise) here, pausing for some water and perhaps a slice of orange at the bottom of HP 30, where After a while, she said “I will.” And she did.

Upward and forward!

-Cecil

The Crying of Lot 49 Meander, Week 0

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Welcome back to you, and to me too!

That’s right, friends — after a 5 year hiatus, on Sunday October 5 Meander shenanigans start up again, this time with a mini-Meander™ of Pynchon’s micro-masterpiece, The Crying of Lot 49.

We’ll be doing some slow cooking this time out — 30 pages a week, 5 weeks for the journey. Plenty of time to savor the goodness. Also, there’s a lot going on, right? But who couldn’t use a distraction in a moment like this?

If you’ve Meandered before, the only other difference is that I’m not planning a physical prize (alas!), but there still will be winners (yay!), and I’ll figure out something digital I can send your way to celebrate your glory (woohoo!).

If you’re planning on diving in, drop us a note in the comments to let us know. And I’ll see you back here in a couple of weeks. (early adopters — I might need to approve your comment as we kick off jfyi…)

Optional primer for new folks

21 years ago (!) a bunch of started reading challenging books together and commenting online, and we found joy in the endeavor. At first we called these “Deathmarches” and our first time out was ye olde Gravity’s Rainbow Deathmarch. During Covid-times we morphed these from Deathmarches to the kinder gentler Meanders, starting with the eerily appropriate for the time White Noise Meander.

How this works: Starting October 5, I’ll send out a note to folks on the path, and post a post here on Cecil.

You’ll have a week to read about 30 pages and to drop a comment when you’re done. Comments range from “I’m behind!” to erudite and entertaining observations on favorite passages, cross-cultural currents and more.

All comments are equally wonderful in the eyes of the great Meanderer in the sky. Finish and comment each week and you win! Oh, and don’t sweat it if you’ve never read this before or it’s your first time through — all wanderers welcome….

What happens next? Drop a comment on the thread to let us know if you are going to dive in. And get yourself a copy of the book and hide it somewhere so you aren’t tempted until we flip that first page a few Sundays hence. Any questions, just leave a note…

Thanks all for the company and the community. You are a light.

-Cecil le V.