Driftwork

Pynchon fan

“The beautiful woman in the players’ box fans herself with a Thomas Pynchon novel. Fifteen feet below, her partner is sweating it out in the quarter-finals of the French Open.” and on

There is only one novel by TRP that can be used as a fan.

40

Not having enough as a kid and thankful for it … meeting Mkka in summer of 1990 … realizing what it is that Oedipa really found … 10am to 2am shifts in a theatre in Edinburgh … listening to “Ugra Karma” for the first time … H3O … Hakim Bey … Pullman and Wazzu … unholy musicks … “The sky above the port was the color of television tuned to a dead channel” in a book with the cover I didn’t really like … the first view of the Pacific … Edward Alexander and his path … Smashing Pumpkins’ “Disarm” in a cab between parties in San Francisco on the New Year’s Eve … Winterson’s The Passion … more London than I care to remember … House of Leaves … Jackson Pollock in MOMA … the saddest man in the world and his words … empty roads west of the Mississippi … COIL … a small hand always holding mine in the street … Steve Erickson … a chemically-assisted July night in Borrego watching the Milky Way … Takeshi Kovacs … finding out that forgiveness is the ultimate sign of caring … 45 minutes in a hotel lounge after a wedding in Buffalo with snow falling outside before a cab came … starting to half-heartedly watch Southland Tales and dazedly asking myself at 3:20am whether I’ll be able to like any other movie after that … the desert … the Louvre at 10pm on a cold December night … always my students … Oceania … feeling at home in the world …

So many memories that will always be only mine.

It’s been a good ride so far. Thank you.