This series is too serene. It needs some swirling or sweeping forces. Maybe the big book is a window into a bottomless pit and is itself falling into an abyss? What if it were under water? Even experimenting with camera position could make a big difference.
My mood I guess - generations serving their time and fading into obscurity:
",,,He is the father you will never quite manage to kill. The Oedipal situation ln the Zone these days is terrible. There is no dignity. The mothers have been masculinized to old worn moneybags of no sexual interest to anyone, and yet here are their sons. still trapped inside inertias of lust that are 40 years out of date. The fathers have no power today and never did, but because 49 years ago we could not kill them, we are condemned now to the same passivity, the same masochistic fantasies they cherished in secret, and worse, we are condemned in our weakness to impersonate men of power our own infant children must hate, and wish to usurp the place of. and fail. ...So generation after generation of men in love with pain and passivityserve out their time in the Zone, silent, redolent of faded sperm, terrified of dying, desperately addicted to the comforts other sell them, however useless, ugly or shallow, willing to have life defined for them by men whose only talent is for death..." (Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow 871,2)
Devious Comments
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Everything disputable is to be disputed.
The blue in the sky
Will remain gray as long as
It is not reinvented.
[link]
",,,He is the father you will never quite manage to kill. The Oedipal situation ln the Zone these days is terrible. There is no dignity. The mothers have been masculinized to old worn moneybags of no sexual interest to anyone, and yet here are their sons. still trapped inside inertias of lust that are 40 years out of date. The fathers have no power today and never did, but because 49 years ago we could not kill them, we are condemned now to the same passivity, the same masochistic fantasies they cherished in secret, and worse, we are condemned in our weakness to impersonate men of power our own infant children must hate, and wish to usurp the place of. and fail.
...So generation after generation of men in love with pain and passivityserve out their time in the Zone, silent, redolent of faded sperm, terrified of dying, desperately addicted to the comforts other sell them, however useless, ugly or shallow, willing to have life defined for them by men whose only talent is for death..." (Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow 871,2)
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