Tis the Age when Reason's casts long shadows over Terra Ignota and illuminates Terra Nostra, two Astronomers—Mason, the Melancholic Stargazer, and Dixon, the pragmatic Surveyor—embarked upon a Commission most Peculiar: to carve a Line straight as Euclid’s Dream through the Howling Wilderness of the New World. So begins Mason & Dixon, a Tale spun not merely of Ink and Quill, but of the spectral Threads that bind Comedy to Tragedy, Science to Sorcery, and History to the Whims of those who Scribble it. A Postmodern Tour de France.

Introduction

I hoped you liked my poor imitation of the book's style, if not, fear not, as that will be the only time it will be done. So yeah, what can you say? We go from observing the Transit of Venus, creating the Mason–Dixon Line that will serve also as the official separating incision between North and South during the Civil War and represents so much more (as the book makes you question). An Odyssey, traversing through most of the United States, and a Don Quixote-esque narrative on top of it. Where Miguel de Cervantes lampooned the myth of chivalry, this novel explores the origin of America, which modern America was birthed in Philadelphia, 1786, a few months before the U.S. Constitution was approved, likewise where our story begins, and yes—it’s a Christmas story!

Snow-Balls have flown their Arcs, starred the Sides of Outbuildings, as of Cousins, carried Hats away into the brisk Wind off Delaware,— the Sleds are brought in and their Runners carefully dried and greased, shoes deposited in the back Hall, a stockinged-foot Descent made upon the great Kitchen, in a purposeful Dither since Morning, punctuated by the ringing Lids of various Boilers and Stewing-Pots, fragrant with Pie-Spices, peeled Fruits, Suet, heated Sugar,— the Children, having all upon the Fly, among rhythmic slaps of Batter and Spoon, coaxed and stolen what they might, proceed, as upon each afternoon all this snowy Advent, to a comfortable Room at the rear of the House, years since given over to their carefree Assaults. This Christmastide of 1786, with the War settled and the Nation bickering itself into Fragments, wounds bodily and ghostly, great and small, go aching on, not every one commemorated,— nor, too often, even recounted.

Broad Overview

Truthfully, writing a review for this novel is quite daunting as what can be expressed? I’m unsure, I feel sort of speechless by the journey I undertook. I experienced so much yet barely grasped the surface yet remained enraptured by it from beginning to end. Nevertheless, it’s one of the most perfect books ever constructed. It’s not my favourite of all time (though one of my favourites) nor the best book of all time (a claim like that feels too subjective) nevertheless, it’s a masterpiece. The more you reflect upon the book, the more impressive and thought-provoking it ends up becoming (the tragedy and comedy heightens in reflection); it’s one of those achievements that feels like it can only be attained by a lifetime of work, and you will be remembered by the books (and apparently he has two more that are critically beloved, if not more), like David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest, James Joyce's Ulysses, Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast trilogy, or J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Before even beginning the review properly, I will state, this is my first Thomas Pynchon novel. I read this first because I saw a video stating a guide to get into all his books, and one interesting thought experiment the individual made was reading his novels chronologically as he outlines the history of America from its origins to 9/11. It sounded like an amazing prospect, so I decided to undertake that path.

Writing Style and Broad Musings

The writing style can be very overwhelming. It uses complex 18th-century vernacular emulating the style of the time. It does take some time to adjust, but then slowly, once you adjust to it, you can’t help finding the writing both funnier and sadder and carrying so much weight at the same time. One passage of many would be this one:

“What Machine is it,” young Cherrycoke later bade himself goodnight, “that bears us along so relentlessly? We go rattling thro’ another Day,— another Year,— as thro’ an empty Town without a Name, in the Midnight . . . we have but Memories of some Pause at the Pleasure-Spas of our younger Day, the Maidens, the Cards, the Claret,— we seek to extend our stay, but now a silent Functionary in dark Livery indicates it is time to re-board the Coach, and resume the Journey. Long before the Destination, moreover, shall this Machine come abruptly to a Stop . . . gather’d dense with Fear, shall we open the Door to confer with the Driver, to discover that there is no Driver, . . . no Horses, . . . only the Machine, fading as we stand, and a Prairie of desperate Immensity. . . .”

In particular, those descriptions and manner of speech. Especially the conversation of Mason & Dixon, but even beyond them, a lot of the side casts.

In terms of a random footnote I found on the web that may be true or not, apparently at one point it was so authentic there were discussions by the MLA (Modern Language Association) considering the book to be an 18th-century novel. Obviously, it’s false, especially with how it’s only a tale that can be told from a modern perspective, especially with its post-modern musings throughout the entire body of text. True or not, it’s just so authentic that you will believe it.

I will discuss the themes shortly (too much to properly extrapolate), but fundamentally the book is a Christmas story, and one told to children who are up past their bedtime. Despite the many allusions that were lost on me, something did click subconsciously, which I can’t properly articulate, but overall, it is just excellent storytelling. It’s an epic, not just with the rich lives and personalities of our protagonist, but it is also a history of the individuals who aren’t a part of the history books, the unspoken voice. The voices that aren’t preserved in our history books remain as echoes, but we can extrapolate the missing link. It’s an unreliable history, as Rev. Well, was a rebellious figure:

Carelessness of Youth beside it,— the Crime they styl’d ‘Anonymity.’ That is, I left messages posted publicly, but did not sign them. I knew some night-running lads in the district who let me use their Printing-Press,— somehow, what I got into printing up, were Accounts of certain Crimes I had observ’d, committed by the Stronger against the Weaker,— enclosures, evictions, Assize verdicts, Activities of the Military,— giving the Names of as many of the Perpetrators as I was sure of, yet keeping back what I foolishly imagin’d my own, till the Night I was tipp’d and brought in to London, in Chains, and clapp’d in the Tower.

With the Rev’s personal history, speaking against what he views as injustice and not personally witnessing a lot of the events that unfolded, how much can be true? Is it a good debate? Does it simply miss the point? Did our chief protagonists really experience everything that is relayed? Is some of the text not told by Rev, but secretly by TP to us with certain interjections? There obviously has to be an important reason from a thematic purpose why the tale is told to children (future generation), to young adults, and to older adults. How the framing device that isn’t just this one and very free-flowing, it speaks on the study of historiography. It’s a warm novel with very rich characters who grow and reevaluate themselves along the journey, and it’s a pleasure to read.

Themes

History, Historiography and The Purpose?

Following up my point from before, how history is conveyed is a very important theme. Cherrycoke aptly describes it in this passage:

Facts are but the Play-things of lawyers,— Tops and Hoops, forever a-spin. . . . Alas, the Historian may indulge no such idle Rotating. History is not Chronology, for that is left to lawyers,— nor is it Remembrance, for Remembrance belongs to the People. History can as little pretend to the Veracity of the one, as claim the Power of the other,— her Practitioners, to survive, must soon learn the arts of the quidnunc, spy, and Taproom Wit,— that there may ever continue more than one life-line back into a Past we risk, each day, losing our forebears in forever,— not a Chain of single Links, for one broken Link could lose us All,— rather, a great disorderly Tangle of Lines, long and short, weak and strong, vanishing into the Mnemonick Deep, with only their Destination in common.

TP is showing his admiration of historians and the difficult tasks they must do. Facts for lawyers can bend the truth for their strategic purposes rather than the pursuit of the whole truth (which is tough with the missing pieces of history). It's the in-between state of chronoloy (factual) and remembrance (interpersonal), providing interpretation as one of a detective or journalist and overall context. Taking jumbled pieces and creating coherency from something that is messy. As he notes, history isn't just listing out facts (as it is often taught in school badly). Not a single chain, as the job of a historian is navigating the truths of even texts that can be deemed mostly false. It's the pursuit to preserve the past for future generations. Creating overall coherence while acknowledging the complexity and ambiguity.

What I found really fascinating about the history is how TP compiles it all together (especially the relationship to time and space). Interestingly, I was reading The Wager by David Grann, a nonfiction book taking place in the same century with a modern perspective as Mason and Dixon. There’s one line that stands very true:

Empires preserve their power with the stories that they tell, but just as critical are the stories they don’t—the dark silences they impose, the pages they tear out.

TP is very fascinated in illuminating what might have been with those pages torn out. As the foundation of modern America was built upon Enlightenment thought, a certain individual also rose to prominence: Edward Gibbon, whose styled “history” came to be synonymous with strictly chronological “grand narrative”. The book pretty much attacks that notion of history, as Alexei Lalo states in his article Bely and Pynchon, “that the Enlightenment hope for overall rationalization via simplistic classifications and drawing arbitrary lines and false boundaries has proved counterproductive” thus creating a counter-Enlightenment narratology to comment on the political and cultural biases that motivated calendar “correction” and the Mason-Dixon Line, then and how the anachronism is a critique of rationalism (pg. 11 Multiple Worlds of Pynchon's Mason & Dixon). Genuinely, it’s all a massive rabbit hole, and yeah, you can’t help but be awed by the genius in reflection.

Time

While history and slavery are fundamental themes one can gather immediately, it’s all in context with Time as a construction. For an era that was built on progress through Reason, the amount of myth and folklore is quite a good contrast. At a certain point, time stops being simply linear but highlights the cyclical or mythical nature of it. This all comes to a conclusion, well, everything in the novel, from characters and all its central themes, reaches its finality at the end of Part 2.

The surveyors’ Line, meant to settle a border dispute, becomes a harbinger of violence and exploitation, suggesting that “progress” often resurrects old evils in new forms. Even the novel’s language—written in 18th-century pastiche but peppered with postmodern irony—collapses timelines, drawing parallels between colonial expansion and modern globalisation. Pynchon hints that time is less a line than a spiral, looping back to confront us with unresolved sins.

Another very important point is those missing 11 days. The British Empire for a long time was on the Julian calendar, but one year they decided to switch to the Gregorian calendar, and they decided to skip 11 days to align with it. If you are observing as a human construct, it hasn’t disappeared the same has simply changed; the phenomena have remained constant. There’s a deep discussion about time being stolen, not only their pursuing their imperialistic empire they are conducting this action. The book makes you question institutional structures of power and authorises time itself to a host of people. Mason is very cautious about it; he can’t simply accept that fact, so he creates an idea that time is looping all around him. It’s sort of a spiritual awakening, and those missing 11 days and time digressions are uttered everywhere in the novel.

Slavery, Colonialism and Native American Exploitation

One undeniable theme of the novel is the horrors of slavery. How America, as you know, was shaped by their blood and sweat. While there are moments of condemnation, discussions of complicity, the chains of human civilisation, which is continuously investigated and commented upon in the entire novel, TP is less interested in the reader (if they happen to be American though this isn't an America only issue) feeling bad about the past, it’s more so an investigation: how did we get here? It’s an ontological question of what the secret power structures and forces are undergirding what we are today.

There are so many quotes about slavery that were so poignant and depressing; one such quote is Johanna and her senior slave in Cape Town:

In Johanna’s intrigue to bring together Mason and her senior slave, however, ’tis the Slavery, not any form of Desire, that is of the essence. Dixon, out of these particular meshes, can see it,— Mason cannot. Indifferent to Visibility, wrapt in the melancholy Winds that choir all night long, persists an Obsession or Siege by something much older than anyone here, an injustice that will not cancel out. Men of Reason will define a Ghost as nothing more otherworldly than a wrong unrighted, which like an uneasy spirit cannot move on,— needing help we cannot usually give,— nor always find the people it needs to see,— or who need to see it. But here is a Collective Ghost of more than household Scale,— the Wrongs committed Daily against the Slaves, petty and grave ones alike, going unrecorded, charm’d invisible to history, invisible yet possessing Mass, and Velocity, able not only to rattle Chains but to break them as well. The precariousness to Life here, the need to keep the Ghost propitiated, Day to Day, via the Company’s merciless Priesthoods and many-Volum’d Codes, brings all but the hardiest souls sooner or later to consider the Primary Questions more or less undiluted. Slaves here commit suicide at a frightening Rate,— but so do the Whites, for no reason, or for a Reason ubiquitous and unaddress’d, which may bear Acquaintance but a Moment at a Time. Mason, as he comes to recognize the sorrowful Nakedness of the Arrangements here, grows morose, whilst Dixon makes a point of treating Slaves with the Courtesy he is never quite able to summon for their Masters.

In a nutshell, it’s the correlation of colonialism, slavery, and, well, genocide to unbridled capitalism. It can be viewed as a commentary on how we are enslaved to our past. How those invisible voices still contain mass and are able to break the chains. While we still succumb to our own hubris, certain individuals learns the wrong lesson from history, progress is still being made. This one sequence in the Dutch colonies is a microcosm of the big at large about slavery. It’s brought up time and time again, and in America particularly so with the Native Americans. Moments of the book in association with Natives made me so profoundly sad and moved. Certain monologues, especially near the end, gave such insight it’s difficult to describe.

Comedy and Tragedy

Describing humour is simply missing the point, so I won’t describe it but point out it was wonderful. The book has a wide range of lowbrow and highbrow humour, it’s genuinely fun to read. Some of the more fantastical aspects were a delight. It’s surprising how some of the more absurd aspects can slowly become one of the profound moments of the book, but what’s even more interesting is how much it’s derived from some truth twisted in a unique way. Combining that comedy and tragedy becoming so ubiquitous with each other, like it’s often highlighted in Don Quixote.

Characters

I won’t go too in-depth, but I have to say it’s fantastic across the board. The MVP to me was Dixon, I don’t think that’s a surprise, as his ideals are more aligned to mine, and seeing his worldview fundamentally shift over the course of years is brilliant. Mason is also wonderful; it’s the relationship of these two gentlemen that makes everything come together so organically. There are many other characters who are rich and full of life; Pynchon makes the 18th century feel so alive from the incredible atmosphere and depiction of regular folks (the folks who don’t have a voice in history). I loved Cherry Coke, his family musings, and even the historical figures that have time to shine.

Conclusion

There is a lot more that can be said, but that’s all I feel comfortable in writing. I will just note two things: firstly, the ending is just brilliant in every sense and really heightens everything that came before. It’s one of those books that just keeps on giving. In my review, I didn’t mention Cape Town, St. Helena, and America as characters; I just like to mention they were characters with how TP wrote them. I don’t know TP personally, but the book genuinely felt like the author was coming to terms with America’s colonial past. How can a country proudly profess freedom, yet it’s built upon the blood of slaves? How can you reconcile this contradiction? I believe TP did a brilliant job of conveying America’s sin yet showcasing its beauty at the same time (his love for his homeland). It’s a warm novel, and he handles it tastefully. In conclusion, I’ve devoted months reading it, and it was absolutely worth it, and I’m excited to reread it in the future.

9.5/10

This is a five-star book, to be sure.

My rating simply denotes my experience relative to other Pynchon-verses. This is on me, not the work. I’m not interested in the historical setting—and would it have been any other author, I wouldn’t have started, let alone endured. Glad I did though, because this thing ended up being quite a worthy experience.

For me, this book really hit another gear with the appearance of Vaucanson’s Duck.

Will follow up with some secondary criticism, as I’m sure quite a bit of this was beyond me.

Es ist lange her, dass ich mich mit einem Buch so schwer getan habe. Das lag nicht unbedingt an der komplizierten Sprache, die ganz im Stil des 18. Jahrhunderts gehalten ist. Viel störender empfand ich die Formlosigkeit des Romans. Der Haupterzählstrang um Mason und Dixon geht in einem Wust von Nebenhandlungen unter. Unzählige Charaktere betreten die Bühne und verschwinden wieder, ohne einen tieferen Eindruck zu hinterlassen. Von den über tausend Seiten ist mir im Rückblick kaum etwas dauerhaft im Gedächtnis geblieben. Die Dialoge sind von geradezu nerviger Geschwätzigkeit. Es wird fast pausenlos geredet, aber im Grunde wenig gesagt. Hinter der ausschweifenden Erzählweise darf mit Fug und Recht Absicht vermutet werden. Pynchon ist schließlich kein Anfänger, dem sein Stoff über den Kopf gewachsen ist. Bei der von Mason und Dixon vermessenen Linie handelt es sich nicht allein um eine Grenze zwischen zwei Kolonien, sondern sie symbolisiert gleichermaßen eine Epochenschwelle. Mittels Vermessung und Bezifferung bringt die Wissenschaft das Licht der Aufklärung in den letzten Winkel dieser Erde. Das postnarrative Zeitalter ist angebrochen, in dem Sagen, Mythen und Aberglauben keinen Platz mehr haben. Pynchon lässt in gewisser Weise diese alte Welt der Erzählungen nochmals aufleben, im Kontrast zur Ordnung der Moderne. Deshalb vermutlich die Maßlosigkeit mit der er zu Werke geht und über dem Leser ein Füllhorn an Geschichten und skurrilen Einfällen ausschüttet. Es gehört zum Konzept. Über die gesamte Länge war mir das allerdings einfach zu viel. Im Roman gibt es die Figur eines schwedischen Holzhauers namens Stig, der mit seiner Axt die Bäume im Akkord fällt. In der Art dieses Schweden hätte ein Lektor das Unterholz der überbordenden Handlung ruhig etwas lichten können. Aber es ist müßig sich darüber zu beklagen. Zum Einstieg in das Pynchon-Universum war Mason & Dixon wohl schlicht die falsche Wahl.

I'm lifting Jeff Berry's review: Intricate wordplay is all well and good, except when you'd rather read a novel than translate one.

I held on to the bitter end never slipping into the current of Pynchon's writing. I think there were a couple times I may have been holding the book upside down not that it mattered.

Note to self: when a novel is compared to Joyce's Ulysses resign it to the "to be read NEVER" pile and move on.

Glavno i najvažnije što treba znati o Mejsonu i Diksonu: ovde Pinčon istinski mnogo zahteva od čitaoca, ali daje nesamerljivo, bezmerno više. Za vreme mog višemesečnog putovanja kroz ovu knjigu samo su nailazila sve nova i nova otkrića i otvarali se novi krajolici, baš kao i pred zlosrećnim tandemom astronoma&geometra.
E pa, što bi rekao Rejmon Keno, ali to još nije sve. Mejson i Dikson je URNEBESNO smešan roman koji se na sve strane preliva od maštovitosti i vrcavosti, od lukavih jezičkih fora i vizuelnih gegova, veselih anahronizama, internih pošalica a povremeno i čisto fizičkog humora, i sve to sumanutim galopirajućim tempom. Baš da se smejete naglas dvaput po strani i hvatate za glavu uz usklike "kako se ovoga setio" i "kako ga nije mrzelo" i "bože, lud li je". I sve, sve, ali kad sam stigla do sekte kabalističkih rabina koji prave goleme na industrijskoj skali i međusobno se pozdravljaju koristeći "live long and prosper" gest koji nam pripovedač mrtav ozbiljan tumači kao podražavanje tog-i-tog hebrejskog slova, suze su mi krenule od smeha.
Međutim, taj smeh se plaća održavanjem stroge koncentracije - ovako kondenzovanu persiflažu osamnaestovekovnog jezika, prošaranu raznim dijalektima, blesavim pesmičuljcima i retkim do nepostojećim rečima nije lako čitati, a još bi je teže bilo prevoditi da se sačuva ta, pa, inherentna eruditna šašavost. Pet puta sam teško uzdahnula što Vinaver nije živ da prevede ili makar da pročita ovu knjigu, mislim da bi to bio redak susret pisca s idealnim čitaocem.
Što se zapleta tiče, on istovremeno postoji i vrlo je jednostavan - Mejson i Dikson idu po svetu, čangrizaju jedan drugom i rade svoj posao, tj. prate nebeske pojave i premeravaju zemaljske - i apsolutno ne postoji jer se rastače u bezbroj narativnih rukavaca koji se međusobno ukrštaju, slivaju i razilaze ili prosto iščezavaju nama naočigled. Najkorisnije je samo se lepo prepustiti moćnom talasanju rečenica i njihovom zvučanju, a radnja će se već postarati za sebe.
I još jedna važna stvar koja nije bila očekivana nego se eto spontano desila i koju nikad dosad nisam vezivala za Pinčona: ovo je topla ljudska priča.
...
Ne, zaista. Ozbiljno.

Dosadašnje iskustvo s Pinčonom definitivno me nije pripremilo na vezivanje za likove (rani Pinčon: kakvo vezivanje, to je za mlakonje!) ni za ovu količinu emocija (šta je meni Džeremaja Dikson, da žalim za njim?), a naročito ne na to da će u poslednjih stotinak strana roman da se kristališe u gotovo nežnu i vrlo melanholičnu povest o kraju života i gubitku najbliskijih. Toliko da se Mejson&Dikson mogu ubrojati u one retke knjige poput Sabatovog Abadona, gde se na početku neumereno smejete a do kraja barem jednom zaplačete.

I da ne završimo u suzama, evo jednog tipičnog pasaža, bonus poenče svakom ko prepozna ovog poznavaoca Talmuda u anonimnoj američkoj krčmi:
"“Aye, some of us have never seen him, only heard his steps on the nights when there is no Moon, or his voice, speaking from above the only words he knows,— ‘Eyeh asher Eyeh,’ “—in on which, in Tones hush’d, though ominous, the others now join. “That is, ‘I am that which I am,’” helpfully translates a somehow nautical-looking Indiv. with gigantick Fore-Arms, and one Eye ever a-Squint from the Smoke of his Pipe. “Tho’ Rashi in his Commentary has, ‘I will be what I will be,’ as the Tense is ambiguous between present and future.”"

Το Mason & Dixon αφορά στις περιπέτειες δύο Άγγλων στην Αμερική του 18ου αιώνα, του Charles Mason (Αστρονόμου) και του Jeremiah Dixon (τοπογράφου), όπου τους έχει ανατεθεί από τον Βασιλικό Σύλλογο της Αγγλίας η χάραξη μίας απόλυτα ευθείας γραμμής η οποία θα αποτελέσει το βόρειο σύνορο μεταξύ Μέρυλαντ και Πενσυλβάνια (Πραγματικό γεγονός).

Ο Pynchon σκεπτόμενος αυτή την ανάγκη της εποχής, σε συνδυασμό με την εφέυρεση και άφιξη των ρολογιών με λεπτοδείκτες στα νοικοκυριά, και την ένταξη της Αγγλίας και της Αμερικής στο Γρηγοριανό Ημερολόγιο, το 1752- κάτι που έκανε Αμερικάνους και Άγγλους να κοιμηθούν 2 Σεπτέμβρη και να Ξυπνήσουν 13 Σεπτέμβρη, για να εναρμονιστούν με τον υπόλοιπο κόσμο- αλλά και την εφέυρεση του Σάντουιτς (ΚΑΡΙΟΛΗ ΣΕ ΛΑΤΡΕΥΩ) αντιλαμβάνεται μία πολύ συγκεριμένη ανάγκη του ανθρώπου να χωρίσει, να δημιουργήσει δίπολα, να μετρήσει, να φέρει στα μέτρα του την Γη, τον Ουρανό, τον Χρόνο, οτιδήποτε.

Ο 18ος αιώνας, έχει μείνει ως εποχή του ορθολογισμού και εκεί βρίσκονται τα θεμέλια των σημερινών εργαλείων με τα οποία κρίνουμε κάθε τι. Και ο βασικός σκοπός του Pynchon είναι να σατυρίσει την εποχή αυτή αλλά και να της εναντιωθεί. Σε αυτόν τον αιώνα, βλέπει μια τεράστια χαμένη ευκαιρία για μια Αμερική γεμάτη δυνατότητες, φαντασία, δυναμική, υπό την ταμπέλα του "Νέου Κόσμου" να κατασπαράζεται από τους αποικιοκράτες. Το γνωστό μέσω των 2 πρωταγωνιστών εισβάλλει στο άγνωστο. Η Μαμά Αγγλία δίνει μάθημα στην τεράστια Αμερική που μέχρι τότε χρησιμοποιούσε ως χωματερή της. Ιδέες, απόψεις, τρόπος σκέψης, δοξασίες, ζωές που γράφουν δεδομένα για αιώνες, όλα συμπιέζονται σε μία ευθεία γραμμή "ορθολογισμού". Βλέπει τον χρόνο και τον τόπο να τεμαχίζονται, να χάνουν την αορατότητα τους, να αποκτάνε σημεία, να γίνονται στατικα αντικείμενα και να δέχονται τις μετρήσεις του ανθρώπου που πολλές φορές το μόνο που εξυπηρετούν είναι ιδιοτελή επίγεια συμφέροντα. Δείχνει έτσι το λάθος του ανθρώπου να νομίζει ότι γνωρίζει κάτι λόγω της επαφής του μαζί του, αλλά το μόνο που ξέρει στην ουσία είναι μια εντελώς προσωπική χρονική αναπαράστασή του αντικειμένου. Μια φέτα αποκομμένη από αιώνες ύπαρξης.

Το βιβλίο είναι ένας τόπος όπου αντίρροπες δυνάμεις συγκρούονται σε κάθε σελίδα. Γνωστό και άγνωστο, μαγεία και επιστήμη, τάξη και αταξία, σκλάβοι και αφέντες, εργάτες και εργοδότες, αποικίες και αυτοκρατορίες, Ο Mason, αστρονόμος. Του Ουρανού, των άστρων, του μέλλοντος, της λογικής και της σοβαρότητας, με τον Dixon, τοπογράφο. Της Γης, του τώρα, της καλοπέρασης, της επιρρέπειας σε "αντιεπιστημονικές μεθόδους". Ο κόσμος των ζωντανών, με αυτόν των νεκρών, το πάνω και το κάτω ψωμί ενός σάντουιτς.

Γραμμένο σε στυλ 18ου αιώνα, κάτι που δυστυχώς στην μετάφραση δεν είναι εύκολο να φανεί, κάνει τόσο σωστά τη δουλειά του, που ανάγκασε το MLA (Modern Language Association) να μαζευτεί το 1998, ένα χρόνο μετά την κυκλοφορία του, να αποφασίσει αν πρέπει να το θεωρήσει βιβλίο του 18ου αιώνα (κάτι που είναι έξτρα διάκριση για ένα βιβλίο που βγάζει τη γλώσσα του στον ορθολογισμό, και παράλληα, εν δυνάμει σκηνη σε βιβλιο του Pynchon). H γραφή του εξαιρετική, με την γλαφυρότητα και τους χαρακτηρισμούς του, που τον κάνουν μοναδικό , γεμάτη προοπτικές για τα κλασικά του περίεργα αστεία. Οι χαρακτήρες για άλλη μια φορά ανθρώπινοι στο 100% να μπλέκουν κυρίως σε καταστάσεις με φαγητά και αλκοόλ, ή, ως πρωταγωνιστές ενός Αμερικάνικου έπους, και εναντίον όποιας αντίληψης θέλει σοβαρούς, γαμάτους, κουλ ήρωεες, κρέμονται από μπαλκόνια προσπαθώντας να κρυφτούν από γονείς που εισβάλλουν στο δωμάτιο της κόρης τους. ( ❤ )

Το Mason and Dixon είναι το βιβλίο που οι περισσότεροι θα χαρακτηρίσουν καλύτερό του, και είναι εύκολο να κερδίσει αυτόν τον τίτλο μιας και απουσιάζουν από αυτό βασικά στοιχεία της γραφής του που του έχουν δώσει την φήμη του δύσκολου συγγραφέα. Με αυτό το βιβλίο ο Pynchon δείχνει ότι δεν είναι δύσκολος. Μπορεί να το εκτιμήσει κάποιος που απλά θέλει να μάθει τι γίνεται μετά, ή κάποιος που του φτάνει η ηχητική των λέξεων και τα νοήματα τους, αλλά παράλληλα και Ακαδημαϊκοί που ανακαλύπτουν πως κάποιοι χαρακτήρες χρησιμοποιούνται από τον Pynchon ως μεταφορές για να μιλήσει για τον κόσμο των σωματιδίων και νόμους της φυσικής (συμβαίνει...). Εγώ το θεώρησα άψογο. 850 σελίδες ούτε μία για πέταμα.

This was my favorite Pynchon novel. I know most folks will say that Gravity's Rainbow or the more accessible The Crying of Lot 49 were his great works, but I felt that M&D just was such a beautiful story. The coming together of these two most opposite personalities and their adventures across the native forests and rivers and wildernesses that because what we now know as America was compelling and fascinating. I was not bored for a minute but rather was entertained and felt buoyed by the 17th/18th English syntax - it helped me escape and feel I was watching the story as an omniscient observer. In terms of narrative, it is one of the most straightforward of Pynchon's works (and believe me, that is saying something for one of this length!), and has a great host of characters and high-flying adventures of all sorts. Perhaps, if you have never read Pynchon, this one may be too big a chunk to chew on for the first time (perhaps Lot 49 would be more appropriate), but once you have that one and or GR under your belt, don't deprive yourself of the joy of reading Mason&Dixon.

Fino's Pynchon Reviews:
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n  n: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
n  n: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
n  n: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
n  n: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
n  n: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
n  n: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

Pynchon lo hizo de nuevo, otra vez un monolito narrativo que deja entrever en su superficie muchos mundos mas, siempre pudiendo uno acercarse mas viendo a escalas mas y mas chicas... Las paginas de esto son la gloria, disfrutando uno de las voces y las aventuras de los personajes (que no faltan) y también del entorno, el viejo mundo con su historia y con lo que prometía y promete.
Algo demasiado grande y abarcativo es ante lo que nos enfrentamos, un mapa de juegos, un tablero, por el que descubrimos cosas y deambulamos (siempre hacia el oeste) siempre al borde de la aventura, EN los bordes, de la mano de la pluma de Pynchon y un estilo mas amable que en otras obras (aun así arduo) y en donde a veces, preguntarse en que parte del juego nos encontramos, no tiene sentido.

Surely one of the best novels of the 20th Century. A strong contender for that mirage called The Great American Novel.

Took me three tries over countless years to get acclimated to the stylized language, but it was worth the effort. This style initially seems like a gimmick though it turns out to be a tonal register that allows Pynchon to be simultaneously funny, humane, wise, heartbreaking. An ecstatic reading experience.

Mason & Dixon is a giant, madly ambitious portrait of the lives of Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, two British Surveyors/astronomers, famous for their drawing of the Mason-Dixon line, a resolution to the border-dispute between Maryland, Pennsylvania and Delaware; currently functioning as a symbolic representation of the line separating the American North and South.

The language of the book is written in a beautiful 18th century pastiche, oozing with a wonderful sense of adventure and potential. There are also sections of great melancholy, especially when relating the haunted internal landscapes of Charles Mason.

Pynchon's novel takes us to the Dutch Cape in South Africa, to the City of Jamestown on the Island of St. Helena, to America, and to the North-Cape of Norway. Most of it takes place in America. Our titular characters meet George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, William Emerson, and other less known yet important historical figures. Pynchon ingeniously blends fact and fiction. While we meet with the great political and scientific figures of the age, we also meet fantastical creatures and geographical vistas; talking dogs, a Clay Golem, Underground elves of the Hollow-Earth, a giant flying duck-automaton, Zepho the Beaverman, and the haunting spirit of Rebekah. This blend is a perfect pomo amalgam of the 18th century tension between reason and superstition.

There are wonderful and enlightening sections in the book on truth and on history, asking questions about what truth is, and what we can know to be true about history, and history's function in our day-to-day lives. There are meditations on love and death and dreams. There are speculations about religion, man's need to explore the world, technology or "automata", aliens, about the Hollow-earth theory, and about ancient arcane civilizations existing on earth before us. There are sections on 18th century politics, on religion, about hedonism and about capitalism. There are heartbreaking and shocking reflections on slavery, colonialism and the Native Americans. 
Most importantly, there are reflections on America. The violence of America. The potential of America. The spirit and magic of America. 

“Does Britannia, when she sleeps, dream? Is America her dream?-- in which all that cannot pass in the metropolitan Wakefulness is allow'd Expression away in the restless Slumber of these Provinces, and on West-ward, wherever 'tis not yet mapp'd, nor written down, nor ever, by the majority of Mankind, seen,-- serving as a very Rubbish-Tip for subjunctive Hopes, for all that may yet be true,-- Earthly Paradise, Fountain of Youth, Realms of Prester John, Christ's Kingdom, ever behind the sunset"

It is also about how America has historically been used and abused by mechanical governments of modernity, of the logic of mapping and bordering, serving governments' needs for demarcation. It is about how the individual's drive for exploration is used as tools for governments to perpetrate evil, to abolish the sacred, and to rob people of their land.

"changing all from subjunctive to declarative, reducing Possibilities to Simplicities that serve the ends of Governments,-- winning away from the realm of the Sacred, its Borderlands one by one, and assuming them unto the bare mortal World that is our home, and our Despair.”


There is a heartbreaking chapter about the 1763 Conestoga Massacre. The murder of 20 Susquehannock, portraying violence as something intrinsic to America: 

"He sees where blows with Rifle-butts miss'd their Marks, and chipp'd the Walls. He sees blood in Corners never cleans'd. Thankful he is no longer a Child, else might he curse and weep... What in the Holy Names are these people about? Not even the Dutchmen at the Cape behav'd this way. Is it something in this Wilderness, something ancient, that waited for them, and infected their souls when they came?"

Pynchon is a giant geek who has done a lot of drugs. His prose is extremely unique. His characters have heart. He is very difficult but extremely rewarding. He is a master-craftsman, developing an interesting vocabulary, a beautiful adventurous aesthetic, drawing reoccurring thematic lines all across his book. Most importantly, Pynchon shows us a bit of everything he has up his sleeve; his fantastic sense of humor, his extreme intellect, his near encyclopedic knowledge of niche political and social realities of the 18th century, his giant heart, his creative and childish faculties for fantasy and speculation, in the end weaving itself into an enormous mosh pit of beautiful, hilarious, melancholic, hearbreaking, speculative and straight-up insane goodness. It is just so god damn incredible. 

Mason & Dixon is a damn near perfect novel, especially considering its sheer ambition and size.

La linea

Ben fiero di celebrare il mio 1000esimo libro, legando questo risultato ad uno dei massimi capolavori del massimo scrittore USA di questo secolo (e di quello scorso, anche).
Sinceramente non l'ho trovato neppure troppo difficile sul piano stilistico, la lettura è volata via in una settimana o poco più: forse ha aiutato il fatto che ero già in parte abituato alla forma letteraria Tardo Settecentesca, avendo letto da poco "Il coltivatore del Maryland" di Barth (tra l'altro anche citato in questo libro - per quanto in modo nascosto e raffinato). Forse un ostacolo per noi europei potrebbe essere la presenza di molti dettagli della Storia americana che non conosciamo (ma nulla che qualche pagina di Wikipedia non aiuti a risolvere).

E quindi, sì, Mason & Dixon è allo stesso livello dell'Arcobaleno - lo possiamo considerare il Gravity's Rainbow dell'America. Così come quello rimane una monumentale e straordinaria riflessione letteraria sulla storia europea, così questo è una cattedrale dedicata al Nuovo Continente.
E come là tutto poteva riassumersi nel simbolo dell'Arco, qui tutto si unisce nella figura della Linea: la linea Mason-Dixon che separa due colonie, ma che assume un significato ben più profondo e pregnante. La Linea è taglio, è il mezzo con cui l'uomo bianco penetra dentro il Continente Americano, aprendo la via al Potere e alla Violenza - non a caso Mason & Dixon si rendono conto della loro collaborazione al Progetto e dal loro inconscio rimorso scaturisce forse l'episodio contro il Mercante di Schiavi. Ma il discorso si alza a livelli ancora più pregni di senso, evocati dal Cap. Zhang che sottolinea l'elemento violento ed anti-naturale di un confine tracciato con una linea, piuttosto che basato sulle linee naturali di fiumi, coste e spartiacque montani.

«In ogni altro luogo della terra, i Confini van dietro alla Natura - coste, crinali, rive di fiumi - onorando così il Drago, o Shan interno, dal quale ogni Paesaggio assume forma. Tracciare una Linea retta sulla Terra è infligger un colpo di spada alla viva Carne del Drago,

La Linea sale ad assumere altri significati ancora più alti:
«Un altro esempio di come "Quel che succede sopra, succede anche sotto".» «Non più, ahimè, una Proposizione di Potere… questo Tempo vede la corruzione e lo storpiamento dell'antica Magia
Un'altra istanza del topos pynchoniano dell'Sopra-Sotto alla base anche di Contro il Giorno. Vi sono quindi Ermetici sensi nascosti nella Storia, è necessaria una comprensione di altro livello, arrivando alle costruzioni gnostiche di Ermete Trismegisto
gli Orizzonti Spiriti che dimorano un poco sopra la Linea fra il Giorno e il suo annichilimento, fra i numerati e i non-immaginati… fra la sicurezza comune e la sempre solitaria Rovina…

Ma questo è solo uno degli innumerevoli temi ed elementi di un testo davvero polimorfo ed iper-stratificato. qui elenco solo ciò che più mi ha colpito e coinvolto:

- i continui e coltissimi riferimenti ad un grandioso e ribollente crogiolo di miti europei che si mescolano ai misteri della Nuova Terra creando uno spazio unico di esplorazione, misticismo, sogno, scienza.
Cimri, spiega il Cap. Shelby, essendo venuti prima in Gran Bretagna dal lontano Oriente - alcuni dicono di Babilonia, altri di Ninive - il loro Fato essendo di procedere sempre di retro al Sole… l’America niente più che uno dei loro luoghi di soggiorno e l’Oceano quasi una quisquilia. «Hugh Crawfford crede siano i Tuscarora. Seguitemi.»

«Ai tempi di Colombo, il progetto di Dio d’Eclissarsi fu chiaro a tutti… con la tremenda consapevolezza di esser sempre più abbandonati alle nostre scelte.» «Di conseguenza per secoli l’America è stata occultata, come lo son certi Oggetti di Conoscenza. Solo di quando in quando a eletti individui eran permesse Occhiate al Nuovo Mondo…»

vi sono parecchie strane ed improvvise deviazioni nel fantastico dove temi esoterici e magici riemergono dalla storia antica: il Golem, il volo stregonesco di Emerson, le linee di forza su tutto il globo, le antiche costruzioni lasciate da popoli ignoti agli stessi Nativi.

- la coppia di protagonisti, perfettamente riuscita e perfetto fulcro intorno al quale ruota tutto il libro (le scelta di Pynchon di basarsi sui testi storici dedicati all'Impresa è stata indovinatissima, permettendo di mantenere un legame con la "Storia"). Mason&Dixon sono due gemelli, due dioscuri che possono simboleggiare cielo, astri , spiritualità, scienza, religiosità o tradizione. La rappresentazione plastica delle contraddizioni ed incoerenze di un periodo storico allo spartiacque tra grandi Ere storiche: Mason è un astronomo anglicano, spirituale e rivolto al cielo e all'aldilà (con la figura della moglie morta) e considera la scienza in una dimensione comunque divina, mentre Dixon (agrimensore quacchero con contatti tra i gesuiti) è uomo del futuro: vitalista legato alla materia, predica una ragione più terrestre, ma si apre anche ad una nuova scienza ai limiti dell'esoterismo.

- lo schiavismo come rappresentazione evidente del Male portato dall'Uomo Bianco: un tema prettamente pynchoniano (come nell'Arcobaleno) dove i crimini degli schiavisti assumono carattere spirituale ed ultrastorico. Qui, lo schiavismo diviene un elemento indissolubile dalle origini dell'America, mettendo gli USA davanti al sangue che pervade le proprie fondamenta:

Che genia d’uomini son questi, per i Santissimi Nomi? Neppure gli Olandesi al Capo si comportavano così selvaggiamente. V’è qualcosa in queste Vastità, qualche cosa d’antico, che li aspettava, e all’arrivo ha contaminato le loro anime?

Sono domande forti e chiare (e chiaramente comprensibili) in cui Pynchon mette a nudo il cuore osceno e turpe su cui si fonda l'America

«la parola Libertà, oggi a noi così macchinalmente sacra, in quei Tempi veniva adottata per rivestire anche i più oscuri fra i Diritti Umani - di offendere chiunque desiderassero - e se possibile fino all'eccidio…

- ma questo è anche un libro assolutamente divertente, libero e giocoso, dove sorprese e geniali beffe scientifiche e fantastiche sono presenti ad ogni passo: Washington fuma hashish e fa battute antisemite, Franklin suona per sciantose, un sigaro produce fumo con anello di Mobius, un'Anatra Meccanica prende vita e minaccia uno chef francese, un orologio con Moto Perpetuo viene ingoiato.
La vulcanica immaginazione creativa di Pynchon splende nel contesto del tardo '700 americano trA misteri, esplorazioni, sperimentazioni, lotte politiche e religiose (necessario ricordare almeno il complotto Sino-Gesuitico con il Telegrafo dei seguaci di Loyola)

- e non si può non citare un altro topos di Pynchon sul piano strutturale: personaggi di un libro letto nella finzione (Il Libertino Fantasma) "entrano" nella narrazione, incontrando i protagonisti del romanzo in uno splendido mescolamento di piani narrativi.


Insomma, arrivato a 1000 libri letti, non ho dubbi nell'affermare che questo è tra i primi 10.

I Intend sometime to be Finish'd, but the first Hundred and so Pages have been Torture and Pointless Bantaloguities.

EDIT: Reading a second time. This time I'm seeing it for what it is, which is a very funny story of two guys who don't know what they're doing, told from multiple different angles. I missed all this entirely on my first attempt. I've gotten used to the language and see how it adds to the narrative. It is still a bit of a slog, at 200 pages in and a lot to go, but I think I'll make it through this time. If it holds, I'll bump the rating up to five stars. May even revisit Gravity's Rainbow after this, but I have a hard time imagining that to ever be interesting.