Inherent Vice: some thoughts

I got into Thomas Pynchon during my sophomore year of college- barely, since the first of his novels I picked up was Gravity's Rainbow, which still ranks as one of the most daunting things I've ever read. Anyway, I perservered, finished that, and before I graduated read everything he'd published, save for a couple stories in Slow Learner. Given how infrequent his books were, I considered myself lucky to have read Mason & Dixon within a couple years of its publication, and assumed that it might be his last book. Ergo, when Against the Day was announced, I was pretty stoked.

I loved Against the Day, which, like Pynchon's other books, is a testament to the value of re-reading things. (Sadly, I haven't re-read it yet.) The fact that two more novels followed it in the space of seven years is one of the few indicators that I might not be living in one of Western civilization's deeper troughs, and gave me the opportunity to buy one of my favorite writer's books on the day they were released. (The other writer I've made a habit of doing this for is, unsurprisingly, William Gibson.)

While Bleeding Edge, the latest Pynchon novel,  was good enough*, I loved the shit out of Inherent Vice. I dig detective fiction- it's how I earned my first money as a writer, if you can believe I ever earned money for writing- and anything that focuses on the end of an era and/or has a strong sense of place always strikes a chord with me. It's why I love everything from Dashiell Hammett to Iain Sinclair, from Raymond Chandler to Jonathem Lethem.

I also love shit with stoner/slacker aesthetics and ethics, since I've been aligned with them since I was old enough to know what the score is and where to score. Pynchon, of course, has known what the score is for decades, and his potheadedness is easy to mock if you demand that the trajectory of events that most Americans assume makes up their history is accurate. It isn't, but history, like so many other fields of study, can be interpreted via a multitude of viewpoints, and Pynchon is very aware of this: another reason he rules.

Anyhoo, getting to the movie. Joaquin Phoenix is about a decade older than Doc Sportello was in the novel, but he pulls off the role with flying colors. The casting in general is solid, but I may not be the dude to ask since a) I haven't read the book in over five years and b) I'll take seeing Joanna Newsom in just about anything. There are some plots and themes from the novel that get omitted, but not to the detriment of the film. That's the main point I'm trying to make, really: the movie is good as an adaptation of Pynchon's novel, and really fuckin' good as a movie unto itself. If you've got a problem with extensive dialogue, measured pacing, or Paul Thomas Anderson flicks in general, then Inherent Vice ain't gonna be worth your time. If you're hip to any/all of those things, and you also dig funny shit, then get your ass to the cinema and see it on the big screen.

Some folks might wonder if they should be stoned when they see this movie, and/or whether they should see it twice. I plan on seeing it again, less high than I was when I first saw it, so: yes, see it high, see it straight, see it twice. In no particular order, of course. Should you have the luxury of seeing it at home, when that time comes, there's no reason not to consume all the burl sense you want and put Inherent Vice in the same rotation as The Big Lebowski. Except, you know, they're not really similar, except when they are.**

Once I see and re-read Inherent Vice again, I'll have more to offer than just a litany of unsubstantiated opinions. Don't hold your breath, though- I love re-reading shit, but reading new stuff usually takes precedence.

 Catch y'all later. In the meantime, listen to the soundtrack Thomas Pynchon himself assembled for the book upon its release, and never underestimate the power of a burnout's insight. After all, who else would recommend this masterpiece?

O seu amigo,
D.A.S.



*What threw me off the most, I think, was seeing Pynchon write about things that had happened entirely within my lifetime and with which I was pretty familiar. He did a good job, but it felt unshakably weird comparing half a lifetime's worth of personal opinions about certain topics against Pynchon's and observing where they aligned (in many places, as it turns out).


**Not that often. Also: name that reference!