"Coming in over 'Egypt,' downstate Illinois to you, Darb, we caught us an upriser off a cornfield by Decatur, thought we'd be onto the dang moon by now—'scuse me"—pausing to sneeze—"icicles o' snot down to our belt buckles, goin all blue from the light of that electric fluid, 's whirlpoolin round our heads—ahh-pffeugghh!"
* * * * * * * * * *
Riley, one of the Bindlestiffs, is telling this recent story, probably of their trip to the Exposition, seeing as how he seems to have gotten sick from the experience. Because anybody with a grandparent knows you catch cold from being too cold. I don't know the science behind catching a cold if you don't wear a jacket. I guess it has something to do with the immune system falling asleep when the body temperature lowers or maybe cold germs can only live in weather that feels fair to young people but freezes the buttocks off of old men and women.
"Coming in over 'Egypt,' downstate Illinois to you, Darb"
At first I just assumed downstate Illinois was being referred to as Egypt because that's where Cairo, Illinois is. But I did my due diligent research and learned for the first time in my 49 years that Southern Illinois has been referred to as "Little Egypt" for a period of time long enough that when Southeastern Illinois College sprang to life (fully formed the way colleges do, like stars, if my understanding of the universe by way of Giles Goat-Boy is accurate), it incorporated a sphinx and a pyramid into its seal and logo. A better dating of the time the name came about (obviously prior to 1893 since Riley is calling it that in this book) is around the 1830s when the people of Northern Illinois were stricken by a terrible winter and early frost that ruined the crops so that they needed to travel to Southern Illinois to seek sustenance. In doing so, they compared themselves to the Hebrews having to travel to Egypt in a time of famine. Except in their story, nobody was murderously jealous of their little brothers gorgeous jacket and his stupid prophetic dreams and his father's big dumb love for the stupid kid.
From the very little I've read, it was noted that the first documented use of the term was in 1912. But it was definitely used for longer than that almost certainly and probably. Not that I'd ever heard it before but I was born and raised in California and what do Californians know about the Midwest. Or East. What region is Illinois considered to be in? I'd say Midwest because it contains Chicago. Also because "Midwest" always includes a bunch of states I never would have thought were Midwest and excludes a bunch of states I always assumed were the Midwest. Again, what do Californians know?! The only regions we're concerned with are the beaches and valleys. And the people of the valleys better damn well stay off the beaches!
"caught us an upriser"
Obviously Riley is talking about a current of air that shot their balloon well into the troposphere, possibly even into the stratosphere! I don't know much about balloons and how high they can go but I can talk atmospheric layers all day long! As long as we stick to the one that had a Masters of the Universe character named after it and the troposphere. But the term "upriser" also suggests one who takes part in an uprising. As in "the immigrants and poor people of this country aren't going to take much more of this exploiting of labor by rich industrialists and they're going to make some serious trouble if nobody institutes any labor laws right quick, don't'cha know?!"
"the dang moon"
I don't know what Riley's got against the moon but come on! That kind of language is uncalled for. Unless he just meant "by dang we sure got sent way up in the air, almost to the beautiful and gorgeous and well-adjusted moon!"
"goin all blue from the light of that electric fluid, 's whirlpoolin round our heads"
I think Riley is talking about the Aether here. It's a super important part of this book because Against the Day takes place in the—oh! oh! here we go! Am I doing it right?!—liminal space in our changing understanding of light. In 1887, the Michaelson-Morley experiment began to cast doubt on the existence of aether, previously needed for the theory about how light traveled through space. One of Pynchon's stage decorations of the novel may be that our theories of the world create the world and so while we believed in aether, the world provided copious examples of it. But as we began to doubt it, it literally changed our world. And I don't mean Pynchon suggests this with only the aether but with our entire belief system, and possibly even our fiction.
One example of this is the Hollow Earth theory. The theory was a popular belief but disproven in the late 1700s. At that point, it became a relic of science fiction. So while you wouldn't expect the Chums of Chance to travel through a Hollow Earth, having been disproven a century before their adventures, they still manage to do it because it's still a popular theme in science fiction, such as in 1892's The Goddess of Atvatabar by William R. Bradshaw.
Also, the "electric fluid" might just be lightning! In 1893, the Chums are also in a liminal electric space! It was only in 1882 that the first New York electric street lamps were beginning to spring up. And the Chicago's World Fair will be a major exhibition of the wonders of electricity and lighting. The 1890s were also when Tesla was experimenting with wireless lighting and wireless electricity.
My point, and I sometimes have them, is that 1893 seems to be a perfect space in time and science for Pynchon to explore the ideas of how our consciousness, and how the world around us and our perception of it, changed dramatically through technology and innovation. And also, as we'll see, labor practices!
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