So Yeah... Whatever

I was able to connect the book with what has been out Topic all week: Signifying Nothing.

It is very weird the themes that this book has, if it is read ad a real novel, taking it seriously it will never make any sense, and even if it is read as metaphorically and understanding the message that Pynchon is trying to get trough his lines, it still doesn’t make any sense. Pynchon said that for his books, “Stories much more focused on a single theme usually; novels full of many themes.” (link)
That is exactly what this story is:

The cheating on Mucho with Metzger, the play Courier’s Tragedy, The Trystero, the horns, the sign that looks a little like a key, the Thurns and Taxis, Hilarious (a shrink gone mad), LSD, Pierce’s death, Oedipa’s confusion, The Paranoids, “… etc.” (pg.27)

But, it all actually means nothing. It is fictional, of curse, it is not historical, it is not scientific, it is simply, nothing.

And like in Macbeth, Act 5 Scene 5,
“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
Pynchon says,
“the stored, coded years of uselessness, early death, self-harrowing, the sure decay of hope, the set of all men who had slept on it, whatever theirs lives had been, would truly cease to be, forever, when the mattress burned.” (pg. 104)

So, it doesn’t matter if I what I write about is write or wrong, or if Oedipa finally deciphers the million mysteries, because as Macbeth did, Oedipa and I are going to die.