By Jeff Eldridge
Daily NSE Editor
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There are the geographic kind - defining cities, states and nations. But there also run other, less-defined boundaries - racial and economic, rural and urban. Above them all stood the bloodiest barrier in American history, dividing the North and the South.
These invisible, manmade lines and the tragedies accompanying them provide the theme of Thomas Pynchon's "Mason & Dixon," a strange and magical novel overwhelming in its style, grand humor and infinite breadth of knowledge.
The story, narrated by the Rev. Wicks Cherrycoke, follows the activities of Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, the two English astronomers and surveyors whose work produced the notorious north-south boundary bearing their names. But this is no straightforward tale of historical fiction. Cameo appearances materialize by familiar figures like George Washington, Benjamin Franklin and Dr. Samuel Johnson, but more noteworthy visits come from the likes of the seductive Vroom sisters, a farmer who turns into a large beaver, a horny mechanical duck and an angry cheese.
Such imaginative and colorful characters grace this book with humor and charm. The Learned English Dog speaks with more wisdom and eloquence than its human counterparts. The black Jewish slave held by Washington provides comic relief, but also a discomforting window to the barriers Pynchon laments. "Yet if a Jew cooking pork is a Marvel, what of a Negroe, working a Room?" Washington asks.
When not posing such questions, Pynchon proves he is an expert on everything. He writes profusely on astronomy, geometry, 18th century religious and political history, narcotics, coffee and cooking. Not only is Pynchon's knowledge of such topics astonishing, but he describes them with Language, Spelling and Syntax archaic and abstruse - d___ed fond of Capitalizing the first Letters of random Words, censoring his own Profanity and using Punctuation of a most unusual Sort ...?
If it were not for Pynchon's Fielding-like language, the book would lose its sense of authenticity and sentiment. In fact, Pynchon's writing style is not so difficult to follow as some of the topics he favors. "Mason & Dixon" too often falls prey to Pynchon's tendencies toward digression, dead-end sequences and fondness for excess detail. The opening 250 pages deal mostly with the title characters' voyage to South Africa and run much longer than necessary. And strangely, it wasn't until very late in the book that I felt fondness for or personal connection with the main characters.
Soaring above these flaws, "Mason & Dixon" can be labelled a contemporary masterwork. Its pithy closing lines encapsulate the promise of America and the transition of generations in a brutal, beautiful land, where "The Stars are so close you won't need a Telescope."
Yet Pynchon never lets these stars shine too brightly. As the Wolf of Jesus predicts, "Walls are to be the Future."
09-03-97
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