Against the Day, Chapter Eight: In Which This Extremely Confusing Great Game Stuff Continues, Seriously, I Don't Know if it's Just me or not but I Am Just Treading Water Hoping it'll End Soon!

This begins with the news that Austria is planning to annex Bosnia, which happened in October of 1908. Working in this foreign office, Cyprian learns about this. Theign wants him to go there to potentially pull people out. He plans to go with ol' Moistleigh.

Meanwhile, Yashmeen is having problems of her own, the biggest one at the start being that her landlady has the idea that she's Jewish and that anti-Semitism is way cool, so she pretends not to recognize her and makes her leave. That's bad! She's just baffled, but Cyprian takes it seriously, as well one ought to.

Everyone hates Theign now, for some reason. See, this is why I feel at sea. I don't know why, or what's happening or GOOD GOD. But anyway. We don't like Theign! Keep it in mind. We also learn about this Croatian guy, Vlado Clissan, who will be...relevant.

Cyprian leaves on this mission, and Yashmeen to see him off, and "it was difficult to tell what Yashmeen was thinking as she offered her lips" (815). Well, we'll get some ideas later. But before that...argh, I hate this shit SO much, I just want to gloss over it, but I can't: Yashmeen's outside, and a storm's kicking up, and then she...meets this Vlado person:

The bora, as if collaborating, lifted her skirts and underskirts without warning over her face...and in the moment one of his hands had seized her, down between her bared legs, which opened further almost by reflex, one leg lifting, sliding up alongside his hip to clasp him tightly while she tried in the infernal wind to stay balanced on her other foot. Her hair, all undone now, lashed his face, his penis was somehow out in the rain and uproar, this could not be happening, she only had glimpses of his face, his smile fierce as the storm, he was tearing the fine batiste of her drawers, she felt every divided second of his entry and penetration, her clitoris was being addressed in an unfamiliar way, not rudely, actually quite considerately... (816)

I mean GOOD GOD, Pynchon. What the FUCK? How can a writer seem so wise so frequently and then descend into this barely gussied-up "he rapes her, but she likes it" shite? Seriously, I feel like we're supposed to not think of it that way basically because of how it's written, but that's what it is, and it is my absolute least favorite thing about Pynchon. Screw you, dude!

Anyway, now they're in some sort of relationship, apparently. He "showed up at the door it seemed only when he desired her, which turned out to be often. How could a girl not be flattered?" (817). Well...I mean, I know there are different valences to human relationships, don't get me wrong, but I'm not sure there's enough for plausible deniability here: this shit is just BAD. Would I feel different if it were a woman writing this? Hmm. In that case, I think it would still be bad, but in a somewhat different light. I dunno. All I know is, I sure don't like THIS.

Anyway, I'm done writing about this chapter. Pynchon is lucky I'm the forbearing sort, or I would be done writing about this BOOK.

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