Saturday, 15 November 2008

(Two ends arrive, two evenings apart). Writings - specifically these here - often take a retrospective form. Do you write of what you will do, I have been asked. Occasionally and without thought.

This, I never say.

What is it to allow something to remain unrevealed? Not hidden, but passively unrevealed, almost as though secrecy and meaning is best preserved by a wilful ignorance. In deliberation, the contrary can be assumed, so allowing something to remain unrevealed is the safest way to preserve meaning. this is here, is avoidably obscure, almost nonsense. But it is true within literature, the endless pages of books, and within music too. I should like to explain this one day.

Finishing Pynchon, the unrevealed remains so. The conspiracies within Mason & Dixon swirl throughout; British institutions, Jesuit missionaries, clandestine French travellers, holistic indigenous people, the lost ghosts of relationships themselves. And yet what is revealed remains unrevealed, the true conspiracies are held for the reader from the immediacy, they are the foundations of the story, the foundations upon which the societies in the story are built. Pynchon never hides this, but he never offers it either - like all true conspiracies, it functions on its constancy, its obviousness, its unsuspectability.

Tomorrow is another day, and I should bring myself to finishing things.