Let's Smoke Pot And Tour The Beach

Thomas Pynchon – Inherent Vice

Pynchon’s preview on youtube for this novel – it’s voiced by him and everything.

MORE Pynchon, I know. I am definitely obsessed with this author, and though I only got to grips with him this year, he is quickly becoming a favourite of mine. However, Inherent Vice is certainly not a work I would characterise as a favourite for several reasons. The first of which, and it is a bit nit-picking really, is that I got the impression that a lot of the scenes in the novel were written with it’s being made into a movie in mind. Sure, there is the bracing hilarity present in this novel, along with the ridiculous characters, but a lot of the tangential pieces of usually brilliant prose that seem to often set aside reality for the moment seem strangely absent.

                One thing that did impress me about the novel, however, is the wonderful dialogue. One of the trademark aspects of Pychonian writing is the very idiosyncratic speech – which, in Gravity’s Rainbow was brought about by various ticks, different vocabulary and a general bleeding of these idiosyncrasies into the narrative itself – so that the reader often got the impression that the narrative represented, in part at least, the thoughts of the character on whom we were currently focussed. In Inherent Vice, this is largely seen in the dialogue itself, which is witty, complex and very interesting in places. Even in the first Chapter, we are given a tantalising sense of Doc’s history with Shasta:

“Call me or something.” [said Doc] “You never did let me down, Doc.” [said Shasta] “Don’t worry. I’ll-” “No, I mean really ever.” “Oh… sure I did.” “You were always true.” Inherent Vice, Chapter 1

The dialogue here is simplistic, sure, but it really tells us a lot about the two characters. The first thing to notice here is the lack of “he said, she said.” I have put the speakers into square brackets (not that it isn’t obvious) just to emphasise that the speakers are, in fact, Doc and Shasta. I’m sure there are more eye-opening pieces of dialogue in the novel, in fact, but this was a section that really stood out in the first chapter (especially after I saw the adaptation of the first scene on youtube). Their history is right there in the dialogue, Shasta is referencing an apparently long selection of intrigues. Further, Doc’s responses reveal him to be professional, despite his don’t-give-a-shit/pot-smoking demeanour, and perhaps a little worried about his rep there deep down. He is also a tremendously unpretentious man. One of the interesting things about this novel, is that it actually contains no pretentious-sounding characters. Usually Pynchon’s pretentious characters will be scientists or mystics with only a bit a wackiness presumably to bring them back down-to-Earth. However, even the doctor who works below Doc’s office is an friendly guy.

                Some of the scenarios with which Pynchon weaves what little wackiness (I’m going to use that term from here on in, I think – it seems the best adjective to suit Pynchon’s trademark stuff) he puts in with semi-plausible explanations. We get little by way of visions or extraordinary revelation in the novel – there is some which comes courtesy of a little drug trip. This is disappointing – for me personally, it is far more interesting to see a character go through what could be described as a genuinely religious experience, rather than have him simply come upon a revelation through the use of narcotics. But that’s really the kicker isn’t it? What I didn’t like about Gravity’s Rainbow, despite how generally masterful it was in other regards, was the fact that it promoted the use of drugs as a vehicle for comedic situations. It’s not that I don’t “get it, man”, it’s that it’s just not terribly funny is all. I know Pynchon could have been a little more intelligent about this.