, , ,

So, for my postmodernism class–which is outside my “specialization”, but which I am enjoying immensely–we read Pynchon’s Crying of Lot 49 for the discussion we will have tomorrow.

I really do love this novel. I read it back over the summer, and really enjoyed it, and rereading it was still delightful in that Pynchonianly frustrating way. But I know what Dr. H is going to ask us, and really, the very best explanation for Oedipa’s hallucinatory meanderings is the use of LSD. I know, ’cause I been there and done that, and it reads like a familiar page from my own misspent youth.

However, I am really not sure that’s one of those things you want to bust out with in the midst of a graduate seminar. I mean, this ain’t Berkeley–this is a state university in the bible-beltish South. So, to keep my observations to myself, then, lest I shock people and forever become known as that girl.

Or I could frame it all as hypothetical observations based on multiple viewings of Pink Floyd’s The Wall, but realistically, how many people have watched that once, much less multiple times, while NOT on some sort of hallucinogen?