Against the Day

Probably my new favorite book. I read Vineland in February and knew I had to go through the rest. Against the Day was difficult, but so rewarding. Something I really love about Pynchon so far is how tender and melancholic his works are, especially regarding failed progressive social movements, but Against the Day has such a great hope in it too. It reminded me of David Graeber's political writings--the world is just something we make and can make again.

I didn't expect the Cyprian thread to become so lovely in the latter half of the book, nor did I expect a throuple to move me so deeply. There are hundreds of moments that stood out, but the final 300 pages or so were ecstatic for me.

Shout out to the reading group discussions here, I made use of them at certain key moments and they were really helpful! Getting into BE next and am very much looking forward to it, despite its reputation for being a lesser Pynchon.

Did anyone catch Natasha Lyonne’s interview on Conan O’Brien’s podcast? She mentions reading Against The Day in rehab and carrying it with her the whole time she’s there. Least surprising Pynchon fan ever.

ATD takes at least a few months to tackle and I'm hoping this guide will keep on track anyone making that journey. It's one of my all-time favorite novels. Endlessly complex and deep. Also, imo, Pynchon's most beautiful and uplifting work.

I love the resources out there (Chumps of Choice, P-Wiki, this sub's reading group, etc.), but I thought a guide focused strictly on plot and characters would be useful for new readers or as a quick reference to consult while reading.

It's designed for ease of use. Print it out and take reading notes in one place or else ctrl-F as needed.

Would love to hear any thoughts or suggestions. You can download it here.

I just finished Against The Day. Doing this Pynchon readthrough has been incredibly rewarding, but there's something about the 3 big books that are complete magic. I know Tommy boy gets shit from haters about his characterisation but man, I loved everyone in AtD. Honestly, I'm still kind of in awe of the experience. I'm gonna leave Bleeding Edge for a bit, I need someone else's voice in my head but I'm about an inch away from looking at Masters programmes and making Pynchon's fiction my whole life.

I just got my copy of Against the Day in the mail and damn this book looks intimidating but I'm excited to dive in. Here's been my Pynchon experience so far:

I read Lot 49 about 10 years ago and loved it. Immediately jumped into Gravity's Rainbow and powered through about 100 pages, despite being lost by about page 15 (Adenoids!?!), before tapping out and taking a long break from him. Then I came back and read Mason & Dixon twice in a row as I absolutely loved it. Decided to then start at the beginning of the bibliography but I'm skipping Gravity's Rainbow. I'm saving it for last when I feel I'm better equipped to deal with it.

So now I've read V., reread Lot 49, read Slow Learner and Vineland and I'm about to start Against the Day.

Anything I should know before diving in? How do you rank it among his works?

A user in this sub says they read a rumor where someone who knows Pynchon said that AtD is his favourite work. Is this true? Does anyone have a source for this?

Hello, I was curious about this to decide which one to read first. Thanks for the help.

I just hit the halfway mark of the behemoth Against the Day.

So I’ve read The Crying Lot of 49 twice. I didn’t understand much on my first read and loved it on my second. I read Mason and Dixon once and remember it be challenging.

With Against the Day I find every other sentence makes me feel stupid. Pynchon just flexes his intellectual superiority over me with every twist and turn and I’m starting to loathe his style of writing. I’m very frustrated with this book but I will finish it out of spite.

I'm about 100 pages into Against The Day and I think I'm completely obsessed and enamoured. This year I've read GR, M&D, V, Lot 49, and Vineland; and whilst I've enjoyed them all to varying degrees, and I understand that GR and M&D are these monumental formal achievements, there's something about AtD that has just hit me directly in the centre of my brain. I can only read it in 25-50 page chunks but when I'm not reading it it's all I think about.

Also: Mia Culpepper is the best pun name I've read in my life.

Finished reading Against the Day yesterday after almost two months of reading. I didn't expect to read this for so long, but it was difficult trying to find the time to read, and taking notes significally increased the read time as well.

Wrote down (almost) all of the characters, all of the establishments the characters were at or mentioned, some other miscellaneous things I thought might be useful to record, and I also made a sort of a family tree of connections between notable characters (some might be missing).

About a quarter of the way through the book, I remembered 's beautiful illustrations that he posts here frequently. I added nearly all of the ATD ones he's posted on Reddit into my notes at the appropriate spots. The only two I couldn't place are (must've taken place before I started adding the illustrations in) and (this one's probably at the very beginning of the book). Hoping he reposts high-quality versions of all the others he has on his website (and with page numbers if possible 🙏).

I expected the text to be much more difficult to understand, but it was surprisingly straightforward. Overall, a great book and reading experience. Definitely planning to re-read it at some point, which should make the reading experience smoother, not having to take any notes again or atleast not as many.

to the spreadsheet.

I am rereading Against the Day and I cannot explain how obsessed with this book I am. I consider myself a Pynchon fan, I've enjoyed most of his books including GR. But AtD is on another level for me just because it feels like everything I've ever wanted out of genre fiction. I have always unabashedly loved fantasy, sci fi, horror etc. and most of my fictional diet comprises of genre throughout my life in all mediums. At the same time I have my problems with it like recurrence of tropes/cliches and prose that could be better. AtD feels like it was exactly made for me because it does all of those "tropes" yet approaches them from angles I had never thought possible while still obviously being compassionate about where those stories originate instead of being some mean-spirited parody and the prose is consistently stunning and evocative. As a writer and reader of sff / speculative fiction it's the type of work that reinvigorates my passion to write and for these genres and it's everything I've ever wanted out of a "science fiction / fantasy" narrative. The plot here isn't "random", on this read I'm picking up on so much that connects itself in ways I didn't think possible, it's an incredibly well conceived and actually very interconnected story that weaves in every plotline in ways that aren't obvious the first time through but it actually makes so much sense the more you read and understand it. And it's not just any one plotline that's better - love the sci-fi Chums, the mystical western atmosphere of the Traverse's story, Lew's Lynchian detective work, Cyprian's transcendent spy narrative, Lake and Webb and their familial conflict, etc. I love it all, he does every style so well.

So my question is there anything in the world like it?? I like all the Pynchon I've read (all but Slow Learner and Bleeding Edge) but none quite scratch the same itch of "peak genre fiction" for me. Basically if you can think of something outwardly speculative/fantastical and "tropey" which also uses its established genre mechanics to create something completely out-of-left field then please recommend me anything. I'm currently also reading Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter which may be another good example of the kind of thing I'm looking for. GR is great but I need more AtD vibes in my life.

I have heard nothing but praise for Against the Day. People swear by for it’s the greatest thing ever put to paper and Pynchon’s best. However people talk about Gravity’s Rainbow as a contender for the “great American novel”. I’m like 100 pages into GR and have been looking into maybe reading Against The Day first. But regardless of wether I decide to read it just curious what peoples thought’s are if they’ve read both/either. Gravity’s Rainbow seems to have a lot of clout as a literary achievement, Against the Day among the Pynchonians seem to be much more loved, so why have I never heard of the book until a week ago? Is it just because GR is so difficult, wild and dense? Sort of like the reputation Ulysses or Infinite Jest has? Does Against the Day just need to age first to gain more clout?

Thanks y’all

Why?

I’m going to start a re-read of AtD (my 3rd), and need some recommendations for music to listen to while I read. Usually, I will have dark/doom jazz on while I read, sometimes classical or video game soundtracks (Final Fantasy VII usually). What else would you recommend I have on while back in this world?

This is my first Pynchon book. I'm 50-some pages in and absolutely loving virtually every page. I can tell it's gonna be a great adventure and it's honestly downright hilarious at times. Are all of his books this funny?

The only reason I'm making this post instead of still reading AtD is because my power went out and it's too dark to read. I'm definitely gonna go full steam tomorrow when I have daylight.

I didn’t love it. It’s my 5th Pynchon and the first that has left me feeling underwhelmed. The writing style didn’t feel distinctive and I wasn’t attached to any characters in the same manner as GR or M&D. It didn’t have the wild playfulness of V either. It just felt like an overlong, Pynchon-by-numbers novel to me. I don’t regret reading it, it’s still enjoyable, but not to the stratospheric standards that Pynchon to me usually reaches. Meh. Am I making any valid points here or am I dunking on a great novel that I’m too stupid to fully comprehend?

Reading ATD, page 757, Al Mar-Fuad (Elmer Fudd) shows up, complete with hat and lisp. I recall an earlier episode with a dead ringer for Yosemite Sam. I’m guessing I might have missed some others. What have you found? Has anyone done a study of this?

Anyone else agree? I get that it's a long book but huge sections of the page are just opinions from reviewers who obviously barely read it. There's no attempt at a plot summary, and the characters are presented so haphazard and frequently inaccurate.

How does Wikipedia work? Can I just go in and start fixing it

Howdy folks!

Excited to be kicking off the journey through this incredible novel this week. Against the Day is honestly tied with Gravity's Rainbow as my favorite Pynchon novel, so I'm stoked to dive in again and read what others think. Next week, will take us through sections 7-10 (pages 57-118, Penguin edition). . Beyond a summary and analysis, I've addressed some broader themes that are just beginning to emerge in these early pages in the interest of laying a strong foundation for your read-through and giving you some sign-posts for an expansive story, but I am religiously against spoilers, so fear not.

Summary & Analysis

Section 1

"Now single up all lines!" Thus begins our adventure with the Chums of Chance, a plucky group of aeronauts and their ship, the Inconvenience, in the year 1893, as they head toward the (a.k.a. the World's Columbian Exposition), and all the modern miracles it promised. The Chums are straight out of the boy's adventure novels of that era (in particular, see , which I suspect was one of the sources of inspiration for Pynchon). "Single up all lines" is a sailing and aeronautical term for undoing the secondary mooring lines holding the Chums' balloon to the ground, in preparation for takeoff, leaving only single lines holding it down. We're one sentence in, and Pynchon has already laid the groundwork for recurring themes of the novel: doubling, and the reduction of potential lines of possibility down to single final outcomes. Seems fitting for a novel building up to World War 1, no? It's also noted that the ship is "decked out in patriotic bunting," emphasizing the all-American idealism of the Chums.

We also can't overlook the epigraph, by jazz great Thelonious Monk: "It's always night, or else we wouldn't need light." Here's another theme, not just of Against the Day, but of many of Pynchon's works: light vs dark (but often in an inverted manner from their traditional connotations).

The Chums include Randolph St. Cosmo, the commander; Lindsay Noseworth, Master-at-Arms and generally irritable stickler for the rules; Darby Suckling, the baby of the bunch; Miles Blundell, Handyman Apprentice and loveable klutz; and Chick Counterfly, a new and rather rough-around-the-edges member of of the bunch. And, we mustn't forget, Pugnax, a "dog of no particular breed" who seems to be in possession of skills not normally attributed to dogs, such as reading, ventriloquism, and the ability to speak, albeit in a Scooby Doo-like form. Lindsay comments that the book Pugnax is reading is about "the rising tide of World Anarchism" (p. 6). Pugnax, in turn, notes the odd fact that Lindsay has "no discernable scent" unlike all the other humans. We also learn that the ship is powered by a turbine that apparently violates the laws of thermodynamics (that is, it is effectively a perpetual motion machine - immune to the effects of entropy, a recurring theme of Pynchon's).

We get narrative allusions to other books in the Chums of Chance series - a technique pulled directly from adventure novels such as the Tom Swift series. We also learn that Chick is the son of a carpetbagger who the Chums rescued from the Ku Klux Klan in the deep South. During this, it seems that Lindsay tried to avoid getting involved under the official Chums policy of non-interference, which might give fans of Star Trek some deja vu, as it's essentially the "".

Chick seems to struggle to fit in with the all-American idealism of the Chums and their lifestyle, as well as the realities of airship life, such as the cold. Randolph advises him that "Going up is like going north." (p. 9) The astute Chick counters by pointing out that, if you keep going north, "eventually you pass over the Pole, and then you're heading south again." (p. 9), and Randolph implies that yes, if the Chums were to keep going up, eventually they'd be going down again - not to another planet, but perhaps also not the exact same Earth they left? What is Chick, or the reader, to make of this?

Section 2

As the Chums approach the World's Fair (a.k.a. the "White City" - a symbol of industrial progress and modern technology), they are struck by something far different: the smell of death "and the uproar of flesh learning its mortality" (p. 10) and it is described as the "dark conjugate of some daylit fiction they had flown here... to help promote." (p. 10). This passage should not be overlooked, as it's an early and direct example of one of the novel's central themes - the idealism of technological progress (the Fair) contrasted to the dark reality modern technology is often used for (the mechanical slaughter of cattle and the profit of the few). Here we also see a brutal example of another central theme: that of myriad possibilities being narrowed down to a single, often terrible, outcome - the stockyards are described as "unshaped freedom being rationalized into movement only in straight lines and at right angles and a progressive reduction of choices, until the final turn through the final gate that led to the killing floor." (p. 10). It's not much of a leap to see how these two themes project forward to the looming spectre of World War 1, which was truly the first mechanized, modern war, and the insane, terrible result of a "progressive reduction" of geopolitical choices.

The Chums narrowly avoid disaster, jettisoning their ballast bags on unsuspecting fairgoers below and finally landing gracefully amidst a convention of other airships, representing the multitude of potential futures for air travel still open at this early stage of human-powered flight. Lindsay warns the excited Chums to "avoid the fringes" of the fair (p. 16) as even this glowing pinnacle of turn-of-the-century achievement has its dangerous elements and areas of ill-repute. Chick and Darby are left to guard their campsite, and Chick actually opens up a bit about being abandoned by his father. Eventually they encounter fellow aeronauts, the "Bindlestiffs of the Blue," including their female captain, Penny. They discuss ominous voices heard in the sky and electric phenomena they've encountered recently, as well as recent adventures. In particular, we learn about the "Garçons de '71".

These aeronauts are refugees from the ground, having become disenfranchised with the modern State during the siege of Paris of 1871 (of the Franco-Prussian War). The balloonists, who flew over the besieged city and aided the trapped citizens, realized that the modern state "depended for its survival on maintaining a condition of permanent siege - through the systematic encirclement of populations, the starvation of bodies and spirits, the relentless degradation of civility until citizen was turned against citizen" (p. 19). These anarchical aeronauts subsequently pledged to never return to the ground and instead aid besieged citizens from the sky. It's hard not to read this perspective as a direct statement from Pynchon that might as well be bolded and highlighted in neon in order to convey how he feels about the modern state and the systems of control he uses, as that's one of the fundamental themes across everything he's ever written.

Section 3

We join Miles and Lindsay as they explore the Fair. It is noted how the central Midway of the Fair is comprised almost exclusively of white, Euro-centric exhibits, while the exhibits on non-white cultures are relegated to the fringes of the fair. Not only that, it sure seems that many of these exhibits on other cultures are more showy than realistic, and are designed to titillate rather than educate. The exhibits come across as exploitative circus acts rather than representations of other cultures, which seems counter to the concept of a "World's Fair". Miles and Lindsay encounter a three-card monte hustler and Miles, in a moment of uncanny perceptiveness that stuns both the hustler and Lindsay, identifies that the hustler has hidden the red card under his hat. Miles indicates that he sometimes gets flashes of acute perception where he can see "how everything fits together, connects" (p. 24).

Their intrepid commander, Randolph, meanwhile, has taken a detour to White City Investigations, a detective agency that seems to be interested in hiring the Chums for some anti-anarchist observations. Nate Privett, the director of the agency, indicates that since the , a labor demonstration for the 8-hour work day that got out of control when police tried to violently break up the demonstration and someone responded by throwing a dynamite bomb at them, killing several. Randolph agrees to take one of the agency's detectives up in the Inconvenience for aerial observations of the Fair.

Section 4

Back at the Chums's camp, the lads meet the couple they nearly ballasted to death the night before: Merle Rideout, a photographer and Chevrolette McAdoo, one of the performers from the Fair's seedier exhibitions, along with Merle's 5-year-old daughter, Dahlia (a.k.a. "Dally"). Merle delights in attempting to give Lindsay an aneurysm by suggesting that Dally has been drinking liquor, and then by offering to sell her for marriage when she turns 16. We're also introduced to an old friend and mentor of the Chums, Professor Heino Vanderjuice (a character who will feel familiar if you've read any Tom Swift novels), accompanied by balloonist Ray Ipsow, who's given him a lift. The Professor and Merle are old friends, but during lunch, the Professor seems off - he's in town on some business that seems to have put him on edge. Seems he has good reason to be on edge, as his business is with the ultra-wealthy business mogul Scarsdale Vibe, who travels in disguise and unhesitatingly shoots an old woman who recognizes and confronts him. The Professor and Ray Ipsow meet Vibe and his bodyguard, Foley Walker, at an upscale hotel, and talk quickly turns to money. Vibe tells of a fellow plutocrat who collects railroads - not just railroad stock or even trains, but whole railroads. Ipsow challenges this obscene display of wealth by questioning whether that money couldn't be put to better use, like helping people in need. Vibe explains "That's not the way it works" only for Ipsow to point out how people's needs often stem from the "criminal acts of the rich" (p. 32). Vibe accuses him of socialism only for Ipsow to retort that "anyone not insulated from the cares of the day" (p. 32) is obliged to be socialist. Ipsow leaves before things heat up further, leaving the others to their meeting.

Turns out, Vibe wants the Professor to build a device to counteract the latest invention of one Nikola Tesla. Tesla is attempting to create a device to provide free electricity to the whole world, which would betray "the essence of everything modern history is supposed to be" (p. 32) according to Vibe. It is telling that Vibe and his fellow plutocrats see this device as a weapon that would destroy "our Economy's long struggle to evolve up out of the fish-market anarchy of all battling all to the rational systems of control" that comprises the modern capitalist economy. That phrasing should ring bells, as it's how the Chicago stockyards were earlier described in contrast to the freedom of the pasture. I wonder what Pynchon's trying to say here... Anyway, the Professor agrees to do this, for a sum equal to what Tesla was paid, "for symmetry's sake" (p. 34).

Section 5

We return to the Chums with an opening line that might prompt a double-take: "The chums of Chance could have been granted no more appropriate form of "ground-leave" than the Chicago Fair, as the great national celebration possessed the exact degree of fictitiousness to permit the boys access and agency" (p. 36) with the "harsh nonfiction world" (p. 36) waiting outside. What are we to make of this? As Lew, the detective who the Chums are taking up, flat-out asks, "But you boys - you're not storybook characters.... Are you?" (p. 37). Randolph explains that no, they aren't, except in the sense of any notable historic, larger-than-life figures, since "the longer a fellow's name has been in the magazines, the harder it is to tell fiction from non-fiction." As an aside, this is something I love about Pynchon's writings - he fictionalizes history and adds all kinds of surreal elements, but in doing so, it ends up feeling more real than many history books. Anyway, back to the story...

Lew Basnight is a detective assigned to be on the lookout for Anarchists, though he knows nothing about their motives or ideology - they're more of a boogeyman in the popular conception. As we learn Lew's backstory, things get strange: he was accused of some terrible act that he doesn't remember, and that everyone seems to know about but no one will tell him. This'll sound familiar if you've ever read Kafka's The Trial, in which the protagonist, Josef K., is accused of a crime, arrested, and hounded by bureaucratic authorities without ever finding out what it is he's accused of or why. Lew's crime has led to his exile from his home and his friends and family.

Lew ends up wandering through a surreal part of Chicago that he not only doesn't recognize at all, but one that seems to be part of another world. It is dark and, unlike the familiar grid of Chicago streets, everything here is "on the skew, narrow lanes radiating starwise from small plazas, tramlines with hairpins turns..." (p. 38). He finally encounters a nameless group, led by a man named Drave, who seems to know Lew and takes him in as some sort of apprentice. They send him to the Esthonia Hotel, which continues the unreal city with a bizarre elevator, "refuse-filled corridors... iron ladders... dangerous catwalks not visible from the street" that lead to a room "cantilevered out in the wind" (p. 40). Only when I really stopped to picture this did I realize what Pynchon was doing - he's describing the set of , a film Pynchon has referenced before in GR and which is famous for its stark, surreal, angled sets that defy logic. It certainly makes sense that Lew feels as if he's been transported to some other version of Chicago. He's not expected to pay anything for this hotel; rather, his debt comes in the form of service, penance even. Drave informs him that his penance has no correlation with the sins Lew has or has not committed - instead, it is something that is predestined, but somehow Lew keeps "bouncing free" of the rails of his destiny, "avoiding penance and thereby definition" (p. 41).

One spring day, Lew finds himself having somehow entered a state of grace - "he understood that things were exactly what they were" (p. 42). The scene quickly moves on, but this is important, as grace, in one form or another, is another frequent theme of Pynchon's. One of his most well-known quotes, "keep cool but care" describes this state perfectly, and in a non-religious way (since grace is too often considered a religious concept). I honestly love the concept, and it's one of many aspects of Pynchon's works that particularly speaks to me.

Anyway, Lew is in a cigar shop when a man, who seems to know him, starts quizzing him on things he shouldn't be able to know - how many cigars are in a closed box, what just passed by the window - and Lew is able to answer in precise and extensive detail. It seems that he has mastered the skill which only comes to Miles in flashes - some form of heightened perception or awareness. The man introduces himself as Nate Privett and offers Lew work as a detective. While they're talking, an explosion sends "leisurely rips through the fabric of the day" (p. 43), and Nate indicates it was a labor union bombing, and equates the labor unions to anarchists. Lew accepts the position and quickly learns the art of disguise, of invisibility, at White City Investigations. But he has no need for the firm's extensive disguise collection; rather, he has "learned to step to the side of the day" (p. 44) and go unnoticed.

Section 6

Lew gets a big assignment handed to him: helping protect (from himself and others) an upstart Archduke by the name of Francis Ferdinand, of Austria. If you're any student of history, that name should set off plenty of bells, as it was Archduke Ferdinand's assassination, by Serbian nationalist Gavrilo Princip in 1914, that was the spark which started World War 1. But for now at least, the Archduke is simply a snobby, asshole tourist at the World's Fair. Archduke Ferdinand "jokes" with Lew about hunting Hungarian immigrants for sport, specifically those who work at the Chicago Stockyards. Later, Lew tracks him down to a Black bar and finds him busy hurling comically racist insults at the increasingly pissed-off locals. Lew manages to ease the tension by prompting the Archduke to buy drinks for everyone in the bar, only to catch him slipping out later as he announces that he hasn't actually paid for any of their drinks. They barely escape.

Lew is mercifully relieved of babysitting the Archduke, only to be assigned to infiltrate an anarchist meeting led by the "traveling Anarchist preacher the Reverend Moss Gatlin" (p. 49). Lew is surprised by the size and, frankly, humanity, of the crowd of workers gathered there. Contrary to the crazed terrorists they've been made out to be, they're just tired, downtrodden workers worn down by "the insults of the day" (p. 49). They sing songs of hope and uprising, causing an irreversible crack in Lew's heart. But Lew becomes the go-to detective for Anarchist cases, in spite of his growing sympathy toward people who saw "America as it might have been in visions America's wardens could not tolerate" (p. 51). Thanks to his, and WCI's, growing success, the (which, incidentally, is still active and breaking strikes to this day) has been poaching detectives. To prevent this, Nate is sending Lew off to Denver to open a regional branch office. Lew isn't a fan but doesn't have much choice in the matter. He asks Nate if he's ever experienced the beauty of the city just after work, as night is falling, but Nate clearly doesn't understand. It's a subtle, touching glimpse into Lew's softer side, as well as a call-back to the Monk epigraph about night and light.

Lew has grown close to the Chums and doesn't want to have to tell them he's going, but eventually he does. Professor Vanderjuice cautions Lew that "it may not be quite the West you're expecting" (p. 52). He describes the Chicago stockyards, with all their brutal mechanization, as the end of the Trail - where the almost mythological American Cowboy who roamed free and lived off the land has been replaced by tools used to stun and slaughter cattle after they have been herded through dark metal corridors. Through their binoculars, they observe a group of tourists being shown the stockyards for "an instructive hour of throat-slashing" (p. 53), then exiting through the gift shop to buy "Top Gourmet Grade" (p. 53) meat tainted with the severed body parts of workers whose limbs were caught in the machinery. Lew is struck by the disconnectedness of it all, and the Professor observes that "the frontier ends and the disconnection begins" (p. 53). Again, we see the west as a metaphor for an almost primal, anarchic freedom contrasted against the modernized, industrialized, rational systems of control. Thinking back to where this is all headed and the horrors of WW1, the first modern, mechanized war. The description of the "rising background choir of animal terror" (p. 53) brings to mind Wilfred Owens's WW1 poem, and its opening lines:

"What passing bells for these who die as cattle? / —Only the monstrous anger of the guns./ Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle/ Can patter out their hasty orisons./ No mockery for them now; no prayers nor bells;/ Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—/ The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;" (Lines 1-7).

The Chums and Lew part ways, giving each other tokens reminiscent of the toys you could send away for as part of adventure books and cereal boxes back in the day - an honorary Chums of Chance membership pin, a miniature telescope designed as a watch fob, that also can shoot a .22 round. Only thing's missing is a decoder ring. We also learn that "Cheerfulness, once taken as a condition of life on the Inconvenience," is "being progressively revealed to the boys as a precarious commodity, these days." (p. 54). Their previous cheer is weighted against the rumors of other members, enduring missions too terrible to cope with, committing suicide. They begin to lose control, gaining weight and getting drunk, which Randolph recognizes as a sign that they need to move on from Chicago. Just in time, mysterious orders appear, seemingly out of nowhere, "wedged casually between two strands of mooring cable" (p. 55) in the middle of the night, instructing them to head east by south. They begin their journey but "speculation [begins] to fill the day" (p. 55). They used to be able to simply fly with the wind, moving instinctively and naturally, but the Inconvenience has acquired advanced technology and its own sources of power, the journeys have become more complex, less natural, and requiring attention to everything from æther storms to "movements of population and capital" (p. 55).

Finally, as the boys fly east, we see the "corrupted prairie" (p. 55) of Chicago and the already-decaying wastes of the Fair - the cheap, white staff designed to imitate elegant stone falling apart, trash left behind, and "the jobless and hungry" taking refuge in the abandoned buildings that only weeks prior showcased the wondrous potential of the modern era.

Notable Early Recurring Themes

"The Day": Aside from the title, we get frequent phrasings playing on the format of "[preposition] the day." - "reprieve from the day" (p. 10), "the cares of the day" (p. 32), "explosions rip through the fabric of the day" (referring to anarchist bombings, p. 43), "the insults of the day" (borne by the workers, p. 49), "speculation fills the day" (p. 55), and of course the title, "Against the Day".

Invisibility: Miles at one point trips over a picnic basket and Randolph suggests that it was rendered temporarily invisible to Miles because of his familiarity with it. Later, it is mentioned that the Inconvenience is moving fast enough to be nearly invisible from the ground. Lew, meanwhile, develops the ability to "step to the side of the day" (p. 44) and avoid notice.

Duality: Night vs day in the epigraph, the Chicago stockyards vs the World's Fair, the freedom of the west/cowboys vs industrialization, the modern State vs the population, anarchists vs capitalism, etc. It is worth noting that duality and doubles are common tropes of early horror (both cinematic and written), which emerged after WW1. Incidentally, I highly recommend the book by W. Scott Poole - it's a fascinating read and it shed light on the concepts and media that emerged from the post-war era (including Pynchon favorites, "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari," "Nosferatu," and others.)

Possibility Being Narrowed to a Single Outcome: "unshaped freedom being rationalized into movement only in straight lines and at right angles and a progressive reduction of choices, until the final turn through the final gate that led to the killing floor." (p. 10), Lew coming off the rails of his "Destiny," the many airships from an era where it still wasn't clear what form of air travel would ultimately win out.

Discussion Questions

1. What is your initial interpretation of the title? What is "the Day"?

2. What is the significance of the Monk quote in the epigraph? How might this connect to "the Day"?

3. What do you make of the Chums of Chance? Do you think the authorial voice referencing other books in their series and them as characters is just a stylistic nod to period books like Tom Swift, or is there something more?

4. We're less than 60 pages into a 1,085-page book and we've already met more characters than you see in some novels (and there are plenty more to come). How are you doing, especially if this is your first read? Overwhelmed? Enjoying it? Both?

5. What other themes or concepts are you picking up on so far?

6. Which of the Chums is your favorite?

I’m working through his books chronologically, and V & Gravity’s Rainbow & Vineland obviously have a lot of fantastical elements like talking dummies, hunting alligators, Bad Priest’s a cyborg, Octopus Attack, Rocket Erections, Godzilla, Ninjas, Thanatoids, etc, I could go on.

But I know Mason & Dixon and Against the Day are more so historical novels, like Mason and Dixon are real people, I know he didn’t stick to the historical events but are there fantastical elements in Pynchon’s later novels like these? I haven’t read Inherent Vice but based on the movie I know it’s pretty based in reality, what about Bleeding Edge?

Although I'm currently reading Gravity's Rainbow at the moment, I was wondering whether Against the Day is worth reading or not. AtD has noticeably mixed receptions unlike GR and M&D, both of which were regarded as unanimously masterpieces. And this got me wondering whether or not AtD is worth getting through the 1000 pages, which is twice the length of the other two. Judging by the non-spoiler comments, my gut feelings tell me that AtD is very hit-and-miss and heavily flawed compared to the other two.

What do you guys think?

Edit: some corrections.

Edit 2: I forgot to mention this , where there's particular comment about his post-M&D works that stucked with me.

I've read every single Pynchon novel with the exception of V. and Bleeding Edge so far and Against the Day is just special to me like nothing else. I'm reading it for the second time but ever since my first read I'm looking for ANYTHING that even remotely comes close to:

-the sweeping take on an adventure story [I think feeling like it's an adventure is the most important aspect I want]

-the scope [doesn't have to be as long necessarily, just dense]

-the genre-busting elements and combining so many different aesthetics into one

-hallucinatory sequences and the whole "chaotic" feel of the novel

I'm aware there's probably nothing that exists that will quite be like it, but I'm just asking for the most remotely similar stuff that may give me a feeling that's even comparable. I adore Gravity's Rainbow and Mason and Dixon but they just don't give me the same sense of an "absolutely mind-screwing adventure story" the way AtD does. I'd love for the good people on this server to give me any pointers.