I must admit to being a little dazed after completing The Crying Lot of 49. What is a reader to make of symbols of postal horns appearing in windows of herbalists in Chinatown, or children who have sketched them on sidewalks, or on the bathroom stalls, or in the corners of stamps? I think I am just as confused as Oedipa as to whether or not there is a secret conspiracy to suppress Tristero/Trystero or if it is all a hoax? Clearly, this is one of Pynchon’s points.
It seems that everywhere Oedipa turns, she encounters uncertainty regarding The Tristero. After she meets with Mr. Thoth and sees the WASTE symbol on his ring, she is compelled to tell Fallopian. “‘You think it’s really a correlation?’ She thought of how tenuous it was, like a long white hair, over a century long. Two very old men. All these fatigued brain cells between herself and the truth” (74). Chasing after leads, Oedipa tracks down the missing line in the “Whitchapel” fragment, only to find out later that that version is corrupt according to professor of English at Cal, Emory Bortz. Then there is the concidential (?) meeting of Arnold Snarb who dons the WASTE symbol on his lapel pin, but he uses it as a symbol of his membership in I.A. or Inamorati Anonymous. It is Arnold who Oedipa contacts at the end of the novel, who now seems to be involved in The Tristero after all. Even Dr. Hilarious’s experiments with LSD and other drugs on suburban housewives like Oepida seem to give rise to the question of whether or not she is involved in a larger plot against her. Ironically, Hilarious preformed experiments of induced insanity–certainly calling into question Hilarious’s own sanity. In the end, he too is silenced by the “cops.”
As the novel progresses Oedipa appears to question this idea of truth and certainty more frequently. “Oedipa wondered whether, at the end of this (if it were supposed to end), she too might not be left with only compiled memories of clues, announcements, intimations, but never the central truth itself[…]” (76). The notion that she is in a dream continues to appear, as Oedipa encounters more clues. Leaving her to “have trouble sorting the night into real and dreamed” (95). When her perception of reality fails her, she is left to test reality through touch. When the sailor throws a letter at her in the hallway, “she was overcome all at once by a need to touch him, as if she could not believe in him, or would not remember him, without it” (102). Poor Oedipa. What is she to make of all of this? Her notion of certainty has been turned upside down.
The notion of certainty seems to be the pivotal idea when discussing the difference between modern literature and postmodern literature. The modernists– Eliot and the like– established New Criticism in hopes of identifying one meaning in a text. Hemingway wrote in excruciating detail about certainty with stories about the practical– how to fish for trout or watch a bullfight. Whereas in postmodernism, nothing is certain. Fact and fiction are one in the same.
Just for kicks, I looked up up the Thurn und Taxis family and it turns out they have their own website. Click the link below.
Don’t skip the intro that contains pictures of their palace. You can even rent out the dining room to throw a private party. In addition, the current Prince turns out to be a 25-year-old who loves to race Lamborghinis. Here is a picture of him.
The handkerchief just MAKES the outfit.