"'The basic problem,' he proposes, 'has always been getting other people to die for you. What's worth enough for a man to give up his life? That's where religion had the edge, for centuries. Religion was always about death. It was not used as an opiate so much as a technique--it got people to die for one particular set of beliefs about death'" (715).
I thought this passage was really interesting, especially considering its proximity to the end of the novel. First, the notion of religion being about death really struck me. I guess I've always considered religion to be about life--the conduct of people and that type of thing. Some religions are even focus on the lives of certain figures. But religions do tend to emphasize what happens after life too, I guess. And many religions do celebrate martyrdom. The last part of the passage, I think, is quite accurate and well-written.
In connection with the end of the novel, I think this passage fits pretty well. "What's worth enough for a man to give up his life?" Certainly, at the end of the novel Gottfried gives up his life--for the rocket? For Blicero? But I get the impression that his sacrifice wasn't voluntary. It's interesting, too, to weigh worth: I'm not sure I understand fully the complexities of Gottfried's and Blicero's relationship, but it seems like Gottfried might be willing to sacrifice everything for Blicero.
It's interesting, too, that Gottfried dies for (or at least on) the rocket, which can be thought of (if you stretch a little bit) as a belief about death. After all, someone had to imagine and design and create the rocket, all the while knowing exactly what it would do when it was finished. So Gottfried died for a belief about death? Maybe a bit of a stretch, but something to think about.
What I found so intersting about this passage was where it goes directly thereafter: "It was a good pitch while it worked. But ever since it became impossible to die for death, we have had a secular version - yours. Die to help History grow to its predestined shape. Die knowing your act will bring a good end a bit closer. Revolutionary suicide, fine. But look: if History's changes are inevitable, why not not die?" (715). I think the double negation at the end says a lot about the thematic importance of this section: life no longer connotes "to live" in any kind of positive, affirming sense, but rather "to not die." It's almost as if the ontological state of "alive" just happens to be the default; that is, it's not (or no longer?) the product of any volitional decision, or maybe volition becomes purely incidental. You could just die - indeed, capital "H" History will inevitably truge progressively forward without you - but why bother? In some sense, then, this discussion of deterministic History looks back nostalgically on the time when "dying for one particular set of beliefs about death" was still possible, which is to say, when agency was still in tact. Something like the Crusades were, to be sure, abhorrent, needlessly destructive, a particularly pernicious "technique" by which religious leaders ensured their own hegemony, etc. - but at least they weren't sterile. This is a big theme for Pynchon. In an important sense, there is something deeply Dystopian about a completely non-addictive drug; while it ostensibly improves human well-being - all the pleasure without anyone of the pain! - it also seems to be slowly and insidiously sterilizing life: you could stop taking the drug, but why bother? For Pynchon, it seems, whenever we get to the point where we start asking, "why bother?" it's a big red-flag.