Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts

Monday, December 15, 2025

Chapter 1: Section 7: Page 64: Line 158 (1140)

 "Hold this a minute."

* * * * * * * * * *

Okay, this is it. The final corn grower of a short sentence because Merle transitions from a person learning a new thing at this moment to simply Roswell's assistant (as Roswell promised him, to be fair). "Here's the darkroom. Here's the ruby light. Here's the dry plate. Now focus your attention on holding this dry plate while I do a whole bunch of other shit that will make your head spin." Okay, maybe I've gotten a little too far ahead of the one line at a time context but remember Pynchon explained during the fire at Newburgh that the context of some lines together must be ascertained to appreciate what Pynchon's saying. It might seem a weird thing for Pynchon to clarify thousands of blog posts later but you need to remember: I'm still only on page 64! Pynchon's taking his time training me to read his book to the best of my ability! And by "Pynchon", I mean "the Pynchon that I made up in my mind to allow me to read his book as closely as possible and to get the most I can out of it." And while, overall, I think it's working, like understanding how all the displays at the Chicago World Fair weren't just appropriated cultures and people put up to gawk at but the natives taking agency over how they'd be presented by acting out and showcasing the moments in their peoples' lives where they defeated or humiliated the imperialists. That's just the one example that's at the forefront of my brain but I've noticed a lot more with the close reading. Other times, I'm just rambling. Like now where I'm taking a minute, standing here with a dry plate in my hands, to think through what the hell I'm doing here.
    I should probably just sit down and read this book already!

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 6: Page 46: Line 19 (813)

 "Not around Chicago anymore, Your Highness, I'm sorry to say," Lew replied.

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Nor anywhere else, really. Maybe a few in Western Nebraska? I don't know! What am I? A wildlife historian? Oh, you don't know what I am. I assure you I am not one. The only Bison I ever knew was named Casper and he lived at Casa de Fruta when I was a kid. He was quite friendly and loved being pet on the nose. Or he hated it and was just waiting for a good opportunity to chew a kid's hand off. You could take a small train from the gift shop/RV parking area through a little tree-shaded park to the place where he lived behind a gate. He'd often come up to check out visitors. He was both soft and bristly.



Evidence of me on the Casa de Fruta train. Apparently it was quite an exciting ride.


Monday, March 1, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 4: Page 28: Line 66 (438)

 The boys, fascinated as always with modern sciences such as the photographic, were of course happy to comply.

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Me complying in '77 or '78.