Es un libro cuya lectura no es nada sencilla y que a mi no consiguió generarme interés en ningún momento.
Luego del primer capitulo ya toda la novela se convierte en un desvarío total en la que no dejan de sucederse escenas de lo mas delirantes; pero eso no sería nada malo si de fondo el relato condujera a algún lugar, pero como no lleva a ningún lado, la lectura para mi se fue desinflando completamente.
En el centro hay una trama conspirativa con un misterio por resolver, hay mucho juego de palabras (la mayoría se pierde en la traducción), hay un gran despliegue de erudición por parte del autor y hay algo de detectivesco que no termina de prender en ningún momento y un poco por eso la lectura se me hizo poco estimulante y cada vez mas aburrida.
Ya terminado el libro todavía no alcanzo a entender a donde me quería lleva el autor con la lectura; si solo se trataba del delirio per se, como un juego, no le encuentro el atractivo.
Claramente no era para mi y por eso solo 2 estrellas, lo que no quita que pueda ser ser del agrado de otros, pero tengan en cuenta que es bastante críptico y no se lee fácil.

The world is full of signs and symbols and emblems and omens… One just should learn to read them…

Beneath the notice, faintly in pencil, was a symbol she'd never seen before, a loop, triangle and trapezoid.

“The seventh angel sounded his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven…” Revelation 11:15
Thomas Pynchon is a cognoscente of all sorts of conspiracies and The Crying of Lot 49, a somewhat sad post-noir burlesque, set amidst trashy cultural and behavioural patterns, concerns itself with a weird global postal conspiracy.

Decorating each alienation, each species of withdrawal, as cufflink, decal, aimless doodling, there was somehow always the post horn. She grew so to expect it that perhaps she did not see it quite as often as she later was to remember seeing it.

Conspiracy theories exist in the heads of those who are afraid to face the complex and, quite often, inimical reality.

When those kids sing about ‘She loves you,’ yeah well, you know, she does, she’s any number of people, all over the world, back through time, different colors, sizes, ages, shapes, distances from death, but she loves. And the ‘you’ is everybody.

Only the simplest things ring unambiguous and true in the multifarious world.

Interested in sophisticated fun? You, hubby, girlfriends?
The more the merrier. Get in touch with Tristero, through
WASTE only, Box 49.

Its funny how Pynchon does not scares me anymore. He is not the tentacled Cthulhu (thanks Mr. Lovecraft for my insomniac exhibits) I thought he was. I guess Gravity’s Rainbow was the ice-breaker. But what’s this obsession with myriad dimensions of entropy, Thomas? The explosive universal "black hole". Drives me nuts at times!! Who am I kidding? Entropy and thermodynamics are Pynchon’s bitches. They hover around him no matter what hallucinogenic concoctions I consume. Thus, I will not be ranting on how the micro/macro societal elements randomly escalate in a chasm of chaos and exponential disparity. Blah…Blah….Blah.

Crying Lot of 49 is a fearless indulgence. A petite manuscript (127pgs), it is an ideal doorway to 'Pynchonville'. For those who are by now familiar with inescapable Slothrop’s paranoia or Zoyd’s ruthless nostalgia, it’s a cool glass of lemonade on a scorching summer day.

Lest if you ever venture in this avant-garde communiqué vortex, let me facilitate a plausible comprehension.

Oedipa Maas- Unfortunately does not relate to parent-fixated sexual issues. She is a principle model of muddled estrangement. The executor of Pierce’s will, Maas is relentlessly under hallucinogenic high with a healthy sexual appetite. Why doesn’t that surprise me? A chick on a healthy LSD dosage and voracious sexual treat. That’s a pretty good start. Well done Thomas! Wait….roll it back. What was that blessed letter Maas got which made her frantically drive up to San Narciso. Ah! The communicative passage to several metaphoric symbols and signs. Who said being rich was easy?Hmmm..what about her husband Mucho Maas? Well, besides being a disc jockey at a local radio station-KCUF, the dreary bloke got nothing much to do except being a lab rat in Dr.Hilarius’ LSD-25 testing. Better watch out for the non-linear existence of Metzger Mike Fallopian, Nefastis and Cohen, they could be a handful with their coherent scientific interpretations.

Stamps- Things I used to like licking as a kid. Yeah, there are the same tiny labels that you stick (used to) on the upper right corner of the envelope. They can fetch you couple cents or if you have the ‘right’ set could earn you a fortune at Christie’s.

Thurn and Taxis- The "big kahuna" of the postal conspiracy. Or is it? Arrghhh… Those archaic European postal houses. They sure knew how to revolutionize monopoly.

W.A.S.T.E. - where inter-looped communication brings life in the ongoing deaf-mute conspiracy. Quite the sinister entity!

Porky Pig, Bugs Bunny, Baby Igor and KCUF – just for kicks yet intentional metaphysical symbols inferring human demeanor.

Jeez! These nasty voices in my head. Why wasn’t I a child of the 60s? Why can’t I still lick stamps for pleasure without being charily stared at? And why are these Harajuku girls serenading me?

Suddenly I have an urge to listen to Beatles and roll a rizla at Tristero. Now only if I could find my mail from Dr. Hilarius.

Meta or not meta, me not getta.
Seriously.
I've read this book about 10 years ago, when I was at the phase of finishing my books no matter what, but the enraging feeling of my holiday time being wasted and the author taking a piss is still very fresh.

Appetite for Deconstruction

Most readers approach a complex novel, like a scientist approaches the world or a detective approaches a crime - with an appetite for knowledge and understanding, and a methodology designed to satiate their appetite.

“The Crying of Lot 49” (“TCL49”) presents a challenge to this type of quest for two reasons.

One, it suggests that not everything is knowable and we should get used to it.

Second, the novel itself fictionalizes a quest which potentially fails to allow the female protagonist, Oedipa Maas, to understand the situation confronting her.

Arguably, Pynchon serves up a work that reveals more about method than it does about the subject matter of the quest, the world around us.

Who Dunnit?

If this were a who-dunnit, we don’t end up learning who dunnit.

It is all hunt and no catch.

If we are seeking the metaphysical truth, we do not find it.

The truth might even have escaped or got away.

It might never have been there in the first place.

Or there might not be something as simple as the truth.

To this extent, “TCL49” might be a novel about futility, rather than success.

Get It?

Inevitably, this affects the way any review approaches the novel.

It is not simply a matter of whether the reviewer “got it” and conveys this to their readers.

Even if you think you got it, there is no guarantee that your understanding reflects what Pynchon intended (behind the scenes).

You could be wrong. You might even be making the very mistake that “TCL49” might be trying to caution us against.

Pierce Inverarity’s Will

The novel commences with Oedipa learning that she has been appointed Co-Executor of the Estate of California real estate mogul and ex-lover, Pierce Inverarity.

An Executor is a person who inherits the assets and liabilities of a person (the Testator) on their death and has to distribute the net assets of their Estate (their "Legacy") to the Beneficiaries identified in the Testator’s Will (their “Last Will and Testament”).

Often, people only find out that they have been appointed an Executor when the Testator has died and their Will has been located.

However, it is a good idea to let somebody know during your lifetime that you wish to appoint them as your Executor, because they might not wish to accept the burden after your death.

It is implied in “TCL49” that Pierce has actually died (the legal letter says that he died “back in the spring”), but it does not automatically follow from learning about your appointment that the Testator has died.

This is My Last Will and Testament

A Will is literally an expression of your intentions (your will) with respect to your property. You give instructions or directions to your Executor.

It is often called a Testament, the etymology of which is related to the Ten Commandments or Testimony issued by God.

In a very loose metaphorical way, the novel sets up Pierce’s Will as the Will of God, something which Oedipa is and feels compelled to obey.

There is a potential clue in her reaction to the legal letter:

"Oedipa stood in the living room, stared at by the greenish dead eye of the TV tube, spoke the name of God, tried to feel as drunk as possible."

Whether or not Pierce might be symbolic of God, Oedipa’s actions in the novel are dictated and driven by his Will.

Pierce Inverarity’s Name

Pierce’s name is also pregnant with implication, if not necessarily definitive meaning.

The noun “arity” means the number of arguments a function or operation can take; in logic, it determines the number of inferences that may be deduced from a particular fact.

“Verarity” is not a word in its own right, but it is quite close to “veracity”, which has lead some commentators to infer that it suggests a concern with the truth.

When you add the prefix “in-“ (as a negative) to it, the word could be concerned with the absence of truth.

When you add the first name, Pierce, to the equation, some have suggested that it implies the piercing of the truth (or untruths).

Alternatively, the prefix “in-” might mean “into” which might imply the piercing or penetration of the truth.

There are also suggestions that “Inver” might be a pun on the word ”infer” or the process of inference.

Sign of the Times

I haven’t seen any references to the American philosopher Charles S. Peirce (different spelling) who made an enormous contribution to the field of semiotics (the study of signs and sign processes).

If there is any link, then Pierce’s full name might imply “unreliable or untruthful signs”.

Charles S. Peirce also recognised that logical operations could be carried out by electrical switching circuits (as long ago as 1886).

This concept is the foundation of “logic gates” and digital computers (of which, more later):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logic_gate

”All Manner of Revelations”

When Oedipa discovers her obligations as Executor, she is initially skeptical:

" ‘…aren't you even interested?’

‘In what?’

‘In what you might find out.’

As things developed, she was to have all manner of revelations.

Hardly about Pierce Inverarity, or herself; but about what remained yet had somehow, before this, stayed away."

Originally Oedipa saw herself as a pensive Rapunzel-like figure, waiting for someone to ask her, in the sixties, to “let down her hair”.

Pierce arrives, but is not quite what she is looking for. Despite a romantic holiday in Mexico, she remains in her tower:

"Such a captive maiden, having plenty of time to think, soon realizes that her tower, its height and architecture, are like her ego only incidental: that what really keeps her where she is is magic, anonymous and malignant, visited on her from outside and for no reason at all.

“Having no apparatus except gut fear and female cunning to examine this formless magic, to understand how it works, how to measure its field strength, count its lines of force, she may fall back on superstition, or take up a useful hobby like embroidery, or go mad, or marry a disk jockey.

“If the tower is everywhere and the knight of deliverance no proof against its magic, what else?"

The Tristero System

Oedipa’s appointment as Executor is the beginning of a series of revelations (or, in the Biblical sense, Revelations) that “end her encapsulation in her tower”.

The trigger for these revelations is Pierce’s stamp collection:

"… his substitute often for her - thousands of little colored windows into deep vistas of space and time… She had never seen the fascination."

The stamps turn out to be “forgeries”, postage stamps used not by the official postal service, but by an underground rival or illegitimate shadow called “Tristero”.

No sooner does Oedipa learn of the existence of Tristero, then she starts to find evidence that it still exists on the streets of California: its symbol is a muted post horn, adding a mute to the horn of its traditional private enterprise rival in nineteenth century Europe, Thurn and Taxis.

Her quest is to learn the significance of Tristero and how much Pierce knew about it.

“W.A.S.T.E.”

Tristero’s modern American manifestation is “W.A.S.T.E.”, which we eventually learn stands for “We Await Silent Tristero's Empire”.

It delivers correspondence between various disaffected underground, alternative and countercultural groups, bohemians, hippies, anarchists, revolutionaries, non-conformists, protesters, students, geeks, artists, technologists and inventors, all of whom wish to communicate with each other without government knowledge or interference.

The postal system confers privacy, confidentiality on their plots and plans.

Its couriers wear black, the colour of anarchy.

Yet, from the point of view of Tristero, it is not the content of the correspondence that matters, it is its delivery.

It’s almost as if these companies are early proof that the medium is more important than the message.

All postal systems grew from early attempts to guarantee safe passage of diplomatic correspondence between different States and Rulers in Europe.

Indeed, Tristero’s rival, Thurn and Taxis, was an actual postal service and is still an extremely wealthy family in Germany.

A World of Silence

Silence is important to any non-conformist or underground movement, not only from the point of secrecy, but in the sense that Dr. Winston O'Boogie (A.K.A. John Lennon) subsequently maintained that, “A conspiracy of silence speaks louder than words”.

It is the desire for silence that unites the underground in opposition to the Government and the mainstream political culture:

"For here were God knew how many citizens, deliberately choosing not to communicate by U. S. Mail.

"It was not an act of treason, nor possibly even of defiance. But it was a calculated withdrawal, from the life of the Republic, from its machinery.

"Whatever else was being denied them out of hate, indifference to the power of their vote, loopholes, simple ignorance, this withdrawal was their own, un-publicized, private.

"Since they could not have withdrawn into a vacuum (could they?), there had to exist the separate, silent, unsuspected world."

[Note the idiomatic but ambiguous use of the expression “God knows how many”, as if God or Tristero or Pierce did actually know how many.]

From Aloof Tower to Underground

Oedipa is a relatively middle class, middle aged woman, who married a used car salesman and DJ for a radio station called KCUF, after her affair with Pierce.

Her quest drags her from her tower and exposes her to another side of life, just as life in America (well, Berkeley, San Francisco) was starting to get interesting (1966).

She is a stranger in a strange land, having grown up and been educated during the conservative, Cold War 50’s:

"...she had undergone her own educating at a time of nerves, blandness and retreat among not only her fellow students but also most of the visible structure around and ahead of them, this having been a national reflex to certain pathologies in high places only death had had the power to cure, and this Berkeley was like no somnolent Siwash out of her own past at all, but more akin to those Far Eastern or Latin American universities you read about, those autonomous culture media where the most beloved of folklores may be brought into doubt, cataclysmic of dissents voiced, suicidal of commitments chosen, the sort that bring governments down."

While Oedipa is ostensibly trying to get to the bottom of Tristero, she is actually going on a journey of self-discovery.

The narrative forces her down from her tower of withdrawal to street-level engagement and then ultimately into the underground.

Bit by bit, she ceases to define herself in terms of her husband or Pierce, but in terms of her own identity.

Like the symbol of Tristero, she has been silenced, her horn has been muted, she has had to stand by her man and be secondary.

Her adventure frees her from the chains of middle class conformity.

It is a preparation for a new life of autonomy.

Scientific Method

Oedipa’s methodology is that of a flawed scientist or detective.

She uses logic to make sense of what she perceives.

She constantly asks the question “why?”

She builds and applies logical systems where she processes information in a simplistic binary "either-or", "zero or one" fashion (pre-empting computers), according to whether it proves a point or disproves it.

She applies the “Law of the Excluded Middle”: "Everything must either be or not be." (Or the Law of Noncontradiction: "Nothing can both be and not be.")

She learns things and processes them as best she can.

But she misses opportunities and fails to investigate clues she ought to. She is human. She is fallible.

She reads old books with different typesetting and sees “y’s where i’s should’ve been”.

“I can’t read this,” she says.

So she learns the limits of logic. And she learns the appeal of nonconformity and freedom and communication.

Despite the masculine nature of the metaphor, she removes the mute from her horn.

The Crying of Lot 49

The eponymous Crying of Lot 49 is the auction of the forged Tristero stamps that takes place in the last pages of the novel.

Oedipa discovers that a major bidder (possibly associated with Tristero) has decided to attend the auction personally, rather than bid remotely “by the book”.

The novel ends with the anticipation of Oedipa and the reader discovering the identity of the bidder for the stamps.

Is it Tristero? Is it even Pierce?

Pynchon deprives us of this revelation.

This has frustrated many readers. However, it suggests that this was not the most important revelation that was happening in the novel.

The real revelation is Oedipa’s discovery of herself.

She sees “I” where previously she has seen only “why”.

At the same time, she discovers America and its diversity, which is far greater than the white bread community who are content with the U.S. Mail:

"She had dedicated herself, weeks ago, to making sense of what Inverarity had left behind, never suspecting that the legacy was America."

Ultimately, it is Pierce’s and Pynchon’s will that the novel and her journey end this way.

TP number three for me, and the one that made the least sense, hence the three stars.
A thundersome, scorching, paranoid, strange, rollicking novel, one of a kind. A constant circling in on reflections that may be reality, or a simulacrum of reality, or just a dead end where you will bang your head against the nearest wall muttering WTF!. Don't want to bring on a headache writing a detailed review, so briefly - the novel centres on Oedipa Maas, and an estate to settle in the wake of her former partner's death. She distrusts those around her, and fears that something weird, and possibly dangerous, may be lurking behind the scenes. (There is a shadowy group known as the Tristero). It sort of reads like a conspiracy mystery with TV and film metaphors, which began actually really well, but then it started to expand with character upon character, and seemingly runs around clueless like a headless chicken on Tequila and coke (That's the white powered stuff, not the fizzy drink). It's messy, but it's the sort of mess you may come to love. Not me, at least yet, maybe a second read would be beneficial some time.

Conocer a Pynchon para entender la literatura contemporánea, para encontrar pistas de su legado aquí y allá, siguiendo un itinerario secreto, donde menos te lo esperas. A mí esta lectura me ha iluminado – entre otras cosas – las raíces de El cementerio de Praga, obra de mi admirado Umberto Eco, que en su momento me provocó una confusión mental importante y que ahora de repente cobra sentido. Porque donde Eco, en 2010, recrea una conspiración judeo-masónica que a su manera explica toda la historia europea del siglo XIX, Pynchon en 1965 recreaba una conspiración contra el sistema de correos con el trasfondo de todos los cambios ideológicos y sociales que tenían lugar en la California de esos años. Lo que pasa es que Umberto Eco pierde el humor y la despreocupación y se toma la cosa mucho más en serio. Común a los dos: una erudición desmedida, que necesitaría un glosario monumental para ayudar a lectoras como yo, más dadas al escapismo y la molicie en lo que a literatura se refiere.

Esta es una pequeña muestra de todo lo que me ha sugerido la lectura. La historia es más bien irrelevante, algo así como en un cuadro abstracto, la subasta del título se hace esperar y no nos da pistas sobre lo que vamos a leer. Lo que interesa es el viaje, el trayecto que se inicia cuando Edipa Maas se desplaza a San Narciso para hacerse cargo como albacea del testamento de un antiguo amante. Las pinceladas. El color.

Creo que de alguna manera esta obra – la segunda de Pynchon – es un paso más a partir del Ulises de Joyce, que ponía una lupa en la realidad, no sólo externa sino también en la psique del individuo. Aquí la realidad está aumentada, no sólo por la óptica individual, sino también por la cultura contemporánea, que es como un ruido/música de fondo, por la cultura clásica, la historia europea y también la ciencia actual – todo ello sumergido en una neblina lisérgica que nos hace dudar continuamente de lo que transmiten los sentidos y nos lleva a una paranoia sistémica.

¿Lectura difícil? Hasta cierto punto. Toda esta densidad está envuelta en un sentido del humor y un escepticismo que lo aligera todo, y lleno de guiños, que aunque no los pilles todos, alguno pillas (los Beatles…)

Creo que hubiera disfrutado más la lectura si:

-tla hubiera leído en versión original, ya que los juegos de palabras que abundan son difícilmente traducibles

-thubiera tenido más referentes culturales o explicaciones – aunque no estoy segura de que la idea sea entender todo, todo…

-tme hubiera concentrado más en la lectura – tengo la impresión de que hay que leerla con papel y lápiz, anotando los diversos personajes para no hacerte un lío – pero tampoco estoy segura de que sea buena idea…

- lo hubiera leído en su momento, en 1965, para apreciar realmente todo lo que tenía de novedoso y rompedor, y es que ahora ya estamos todos muy resabiados y todo nos suena conocido

En fin, que un poco loca sí que me ha dejado, pero con ganas de ir a por más, satisfecha de conocer a uno de los 4 grandes de la literatura norteamericana del siglo XX ( Roth, McCarthy, DeLillo y Pynchon). Quizá Vineland sea el siguiente, aunque con 480 páginas da un poco de respeto.

I’ve no idea what Pynchon took while he was writing but I ask for the same.

But seriously, I really don’t know what to think about that book. Great conspiracy or great baloney? Have to admit that I’m in a dither. It’s useless to describe the plot but in short: Oedipa Maas has been made executrix of her former lover Pierce Inverarity‘s estate. Fulfilling her duties she discovers the existence of mystery postal service called Tristero. Mafia, freemasons, secret signs? Is someone manipulate Oedipa? Is this really happening?

Pynchon has a reputation for a difficult author but The crying of lot 49 is regarded as one of the most readable. Agreed. No great shakes but personally found it quite easy to follow and very funny at moments. There were some things I really liked: Oedipa’s husband Mucho. Thin - skinned one. Mimosa if you want to know. Like this plant when touched it's curling its leaves. And so Mucho is. Or Oedipa’s odyssey, oneiric and unreal. Or that game with rules of strip poker and Oedipa putting on herself all her clothes. Not to mention the ending. I like open endings, they’re like invitation from the author, they're like: come on, use your imaginatio, it's your story now. So, that moment with Oedipa. We are sitting and waiting, the door are opening and ...

Genius. And now I need to read it five more times to find even more genius.

Although I hesitate to admit it, I think I’ll just be delving into Pynchon’s whole oeuvre. Last year I read his debut novel, V and this week, I finished his third book Gravity’s Rainbow and, I thought I might as well reread his second publication, the novella The Crying of Lot 49, just to complete Pynchon’s first phase. The wacky zany one which morphed into a more controlled and human with later publications.

The Crying of Lot 49 may only consist of 126 pages but there’s enough ideas to get the reader reflecting for quite a while. Unlike his thicker novels, Pynchon squishes the whole plot and creates an interlinking chain of events.

The book begins with Oedipa Maas receiving a call stating that she is the executrix of a former fling and multi millionaire Pierce Inverarity’s estate. Once she starts touring the property she discovers an underground mail system called The Trystero and she wants to investigate it. At this point the only clue she has is the Trystero horn and a mailing group called W.A.S.T.E (Radiohead fans take note). Oedipus wonders is this system is connected to Pierce and whether Trystero really did exist.


As Oedipa delves further in this mystery she discovers the Trystero is connected to the following things.

A Jacobean revenge play called The Courier’s Tragedy

An underground group who collected bones from dead people and market them as filters

Another underground group called Inamorati Anonymous

Another private mailing company called Turns and Taxis

Pierce’s stamp collection

Pierce’s entire estate.

As Oedipus continues her search, her knowledge about The Trystero improves but at a cost. All her living links are dying or running away and she is suffering from acute paranoia, mainly caused by conspiracy theories. However the final clue lies within Lot 49 which is the auction number of Pierce’s stamp collection, which has been bid by another enigmatic character. As she attends the auction she waits for Lot 49 to be called out (or cried – hence the title) by the auctioneer, eagerly looking out for the bidder.

The main theme here is modern America descending into a state of paranoia ; Oedipus’ breakdown exemplifies this, so does a faux British band called The paranoids. A lot of the characters are either scared, hide details or worry that someone is out to get them. At one point Oedipus’ psychiatrist Dr. Hilarius (who feeds LSD to his patients), goes haywire, claiming that he prefers to stay drug free because he wants to keep on being paranoid as a sort of punishment for his past actions, however Oedipus’ husband, who is one of Dr. Hilarius’ drug subjects is equally unhinged. Whether you’re on drugs or not, paranoia is going to get you.

Other themes include entropy, which ties into the paranoia theme. Drug culture, the music business and Wittgenstein’s theory of names. Then there are the puns and funny names, although the rude humor is toned down, the only real scene that could be considered in bad taste is Oedipus entering a deaf/mute centre and wondering is giving the finger is a form of sign language.

As far as Pynchon novels go, The Crying of Lot 49 is accessible. It flows, and although Pynchon piles the themes on top of each other, it’s fun seeing how they link. I can’t help thinking that it is a bit restrained but i don’t mind. The fun element is still there. I can’t help thinking though that ..Crying was just a little stopgap to keep people happy, while the following novel, Gravity’s Rainbow is the book readers should really pay attention to.

For years I have said that The Crying of Lot 49 is probably not the best Pynchon to start with as his full potential is only exposed in tiny crumbs but I have second thoughts. This is definitely works as a taster, especially thematically but it is not fully representative of his first and second novels.

Oh I guess I’ll be reading Slow Learner next.

Textual LSD

- Ero venuta nella speranza che mi facesse uscire da una mia fantasia.
- E l'accarezzi, invece! - gridò Hilarius con slancio. Sennò cosa vi resta, a tutti voi? La tenga stretta per il suo piccolo tentacolo, non lasci che i freudiani gliela portino via con le seduzioni, o i farmacisti con il veleno. L'abbia cara, qualunque cosa sia, perchè quando la perderà finirà come gli altri. Inizierà a smettere di esistere!
Thomas Pynchon - L'incanto del lotto 49