I've noticed that the sections about Manx Martin are blocked off from the rest of the book by blacked-out pages, as I'm sure everyone has. I don't think anyone has brought it up, and I'm wondering why no one has (did I miss it?) and why it is that they're there. I thought maybe it had to do with race, but there are other black people in the rest of the book so I don't know how valid that is. Ideas?

This was supposed to be a comment on kettledrum's post, but it got a little long:

Condoms and gloves made of latex are used for the purpose of protecting oneself against humans, and more specifically their waste. They also provide a barrier to real interaction by 2 people: while touching someone with latex gloves feels real, it's not skin-to-skin contact.

There seems to be a disconnect between the two people involved in an interaction where latex is involved because both sides feel that they're making a human connection when technically that's not the case. This emphasizes the disconnect in human relationships that I think is evident in both Underworld and GR. In both books characters go about searching for love (both romantic and platonic) in ways that they seem to think will ultimately bring them what they want, but that end up just leaving them feeling isolated though they are surrounded by people.

I've noticed that a huge percent of the conversations in Underworld make close to zero sense. The characters play off eachother, but really are talking to themselves, paying little or no attention to the responses the other person gives them. and this isn't usually a one-way thing- usually both members of the conversation fade into their own little world. Or, it works as a game of free association, where the response only triggers a memory or thought of something mostly unrelated. Oh, and the dialoge is usually high-stress, too.

The characters are so disconnected from one another, and these conversations just help prove the point. They don't care what the other has to say or what they have done. It's an extremely self-centered way to live. Why are they all so self centered? What's Delillo trying to say about the culture where people can't talk with each other, only AT each other.

I am really enjoying the cultural references that Delillo makes in this book. Since they are rather recent and deal with material I am familiar with, it is much easier to relate. I find myself wanting to research the references rather than just blow them off as I tended to do while reading Gravity's Rainbow. Like "Cocksucker Blues," for instance, which is a real documentary about the Rolling Stone's 1972 tour. This is two years before the setting of this section of the book, which Acey comments on. The Stones deemed the content inappropriate and didn't want it to be released, but the director did, so it is only allowed to be shown when the director is physically present. It's also the name of a single that Mick Jagger released. Since "Cocksucker Blues" is the name of Part 4, I am interested to see the connection in the rest of the section.

One theme that has been recurring in Underworld is the theme of waste and garbage. Not only are several strorylines and characters (including a main protagonist, Nick Shay) involved in Waste management, but the more I read the more garbage seems to have a secret but immense effect on human life in the book. The people who work for waste management seem to be in on this secret, however, and admire the influence of garbage:

Nick's life, for example, seems to revolve around thoughts of garbage, even outside of work: "Marian and I saw products as garbage even when they sat gleaming on store shelves, yet unbought. We didnt' say, What king of casserole will that make? We said, What king garbage will that make?" (121) This passage is particularly interesting because this couple immediately sees beneath the newness and wonder what an item's destruction will look like.

"She said this in her small voice. She looked and sounded small to herself. People were getting bigger, she was getting smaller, going more or less invisible" (396).

This thought (of Klara's) really stood out to me for some reason. I think part of the reason is because I've felt exactly like this, several times. This feeling seems perfectly articulated here to me.

Even though Klara has been introduced to us and talked about and parts of the story told through her eyes, I still feel as though I don't know all that much about her. I can't form a very concrete picture of her and her personality in my head--almost as though she were quasi invisible? It's funny, though, that her occupation is so visible and so out-there, yet she feels unseen.

I really enjoy DeLillo's delinearization of time in Underworld. It seems that he embraces a cyclical vision of history in which the past and future depend on each other. In this vision, the traditionally distinct beginning and end really stand for a single arbitrary point along the circle depending on one's frame of reference. The book seems to function much like a human memory which patches together discrete frames of stopped time which influences what will happen, yet at the same time, what happens will influence the collection, arrangement and interpretation of memory such that the two become inexorably intertwined.

There's a lot of commentary in this book about what is and it not "normal." It seems like everyone has this idea that normal is a husband, a wife, kids, jobs, etc. Nick judges the swingers. Sister Edgar judges Ismael for being gay. The Texas Highway Killer, when calling in to talk to SueAnn says, on page 218, "I saw the interview you did where you stated you'd like to keep your career, you know, ongoing while you hopefully raise a family and I feel like this is a thing whereby the superstation has the responsibility to keep the position open, okay, because an individual should not be penalized for lifestyle type choices." When I first read this I imagined that the Texas Highway Killer was gay, but of course we found out that he lives with his sick parents, with no wife.

This is not that important I just thought this was really cute and an accurate way to describe the super powers of a mother.
Page 139: "He runs his fingers over the inside edge of the bowl, feeling the sort of spatter of whirled material, the bubbly pinpoint warps. His mother tells him to wash his hands. She is not looking at him but knows the state of his hands fromt he position of the sun and moon. He must be walking dirt. Walking talking filthman from the planet Dirt."

Meant to post this before the weekend, but that obviously didn't happen. Anyway.

Russ Hodges' broadcast