Lineland: Mortality and Mercy on the Internet's [e-mail] (Paperback)

~ (Author), Christine Wexler (Author)

Editorial Reviews

From Booklist

How to describe Lineland. . . Imagine Stuart Gilbert, Gertrude Stein, Hugh Kenner, Edmund Wilson, and a host of lesser lights chatting about the Aeolus chapter of Joyce's Ulysses on the Internet. Siegel attended Cornell with Thomas Pynchon; before he moved to Mexico in the early '70s, he was a successful freelance writer, authoring four books and many magazine articles; most relevantly, a 1977 Playboy article titled "Who Is Thomas Pynchon . . . and Why Did He Take Off with My Wife?" Siegel outlines his own history and the Internet's history (for unconnected readers), then explains his discovery that, on the Net, "I am a sub-set of the Thomas Pynchon industry," and gathers dozens of conversations and controversies within that "industry" in which he--and, ultimately, the Siegel ex-wife with whom Pynchon "took off"--participated. So Lineland at once adds facts and commentary to the sparse information about the reclusive Pynchon and demonstrates "virtual community" in action. An odd but often fascinating book. Mary Carroll

From Kirkus Reviews

When freelance journalist Siegel searched the Internet for references to himself, he found that he had become a ``sub-set of the Thomas Pynchon industry.'' Irked, he decided to engage the members of a Pyhchon mailing list in conversation about his personal relationship with the writer-recluse. Siegel had written an article for Playboy 20 years ago about an affair that his then-wife, Christine Wexler, had had with Pynchon, whom Siegel met when both were students at Cornell. The article was unique, offering a detailed look at an all-too-human writer notorious for his obsession with privacy. Siegel's plunge into Pynchon-L (the mailing list) quickly served to divide regular visitors into two camps: those hungry for gossip about the reclusive Pynchon, and those who regard the writer of Gravity's Rainbow and other novels as a kind of literary demi-god, and Siegel as a resentful despoiler of their deity. Things heat up considerably when Wexler arrives on the list and fields questions herself, ultimately pouring salt on some old wounds. Lineland ingeniously combines an original format (Siegel excerpts actual E-mail throughout the text) with just enough juicy tidbits about Pynchon--such as his early poverty despite his family's Mayflower-era roots--to satisfy the curious. The book also reveals several different sides of the Internet: a forum for academics interested in serious literary discussion; a breeding ground for Pynchonesque conspiracy theories; and a free-for-all for jerks who probably would not have the guts to say what they write (``Do you have any claim to fame . . . other than having had Pynchon bonk your wife?''). Ultimately the peacemaker, Siegel buries the hatchet with some of his attackers, and there is even a short epilogue by one of his earliest assailants. With its combination of cyber-culture and Pynchon gossip, Lineland should appeal to a variety of readers. (photos and illustrations, not seen) -- Copyright ©1997, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

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Product Details

• Paperback: 192 pages
• Publisher: Intangible Assets Manufacturing; 1 edition (May 30, 1997)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1885876041
• ISBN-13: 978-1885876041
• Product Dimensions: 9 x 6.5 x 0.5 inches
• Shipping Weight: 11.2 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 4.5 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (4 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #2,100,158 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Pynchon Pynched: "Lineland" spotlights literary recluse, June 25, 2001

By	Jimmy Montague "rhetoric101" (Cedar Rapids, IA USA) - See all my reviews

Novelist Thomas Pynchon is a phantom. He never meets the press. His relatives and friends won't talk. We don't know what he looks like. Mystery surrounding Pynchon improves his marketability, but it also makes his novels difficult to decipher and criticism of his work more contentious than perhaps need be.

Now Pynchon fans have something else to argue over. It is an unusual book by Jules Siegel and Christine Wexler, two of Thomas Pynchon's old and unusual friends. Their book's unusual title is Lineland: Mortality and Mercy on the Internet's [e-mail] Discussion List (Philadelphia: Intangible Assets Manufacturing, 1997).

So what else is unusual? For one, there are more hard facts about Pynchon in this one little book than in all others written about him combined. For another, we'll probably never hear from two people with a more unusual perspective on the author.

Christine Wexler and Jules Siegel were Mrs. and Mr. Jules Siegel when, in 1969, Mrs. Siegel started a love affair with Pynchon. Mr. Siegel, the cuckold, was one of Pynchon's oldest friends. Before being interrupted by the Korean War, Siegel and Pynchon were roommates at Cornell. During the '50s they occasionally drank beer, raised hell, chased girls around the country together. By the '60s, each was a rising star in his chosen profession.

Siegel was a journalist, among the hippest of those hip young writers who pioneered what we now call The New Journalism. His street-smart articles sold big at prestigious slicks such as "Playboy" and "Esquire." He lived in a commune. He used to rap and smoke reefer with counterculture legends, Pynchon among them, until (as Siegel tells it) the novelist estranged himself after embarking on his fling with Mrs. Siegel.

Unusual enough? More unusual still is the way Lineland was constructed. The book was not written, as we ordinarily employ that term. Instead, chunks of it were downloaded piecemeal and pasted together as follows:

[e-mail] is an Internet discussion list devoted to things Pynchonese. Siegel joined the list in 1996. When members realized he was THE Jules Siegel, the one whose article about Pynchon appeared in "Playboy" (March '77), they rounded on him with a barrage of questions. Some of the Pynchonistas were rude even before Siegel introduced Wexler to the group, an act that ignited a 4-alarm flame war. Siegel saved the messages -- the hate mail and the acclaim -- and they appear as chapters in Lineland.

Stylistically the construct apes a Pynchon novel, as allusions in the title hint. Characters, personalities actually, speak from the Internet. They appear, develop, vanish and reappear like people in the bizarre vignettes of which Pynchon's books are built. The style of Lineland might thus be called "cut and pastiche" if, in so calling it, we understand that Siegel wrote most of the book himself and that the work is neither a tawdry ripoff nor some long-delayed revenge.

Indeed the most unusual thing about Lineland (given the story behind the book) is that it doesn't abuse Thomas Pynchon. Readers learn to see the author not as some omniscient literary warlock but as an ordinary, intelligent, hard-working guy who spends a lot of time in libraries. He likes beer, pizza and rock music. So far from trashing Pynchon, Lineland teases members of "Pynchon-L" in order to make the rest of us laugh at how we react when somebody hoses the glitter off one of our pop idols.

Though that's the gist of it, there is more. Lineland features some nifty cartoon illustrations by underground greats R. Crumb and Gilbert Shelton. Mrs. Wexler contributes a well-crafted sketch of Pynchon as she remembers him from 30 years ago. Divorced survivors of those drug-sodden days may also meet a kind of bluesy catharsis that lurks, in bell-bottoms and a Panama hat, amid the deep emotional shadows that flicker between and around the ex-Siegels.

The downside? Well, the book gets off to a slow start, tries to be an E-mail primer before settling down to business, and Siegel's ego frolics in Lineland more than some may find to their liking. For my money, however, Siegel's sophistication, his playful, earthy wit and supple prose amply compensate for any defect.

Maybe Lineland is a new kind of book. Maybe, one hopes, it is a step down the comeback trail for a major talent too long absent from journalism. Pynchonistas simply must read Lineland. Anyone else will enjoy it because it is fun.

7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars a great cohesive ragbag of a book, November 28, 1999

By	[e-mail] (United Kingdom) - See all my reviews

Lineland is a wonderfully entertaining read, and a great cohesive ragbag, with a fine collection of insights and ad hominems from cast and crew. We are all of us a little obsessive, cranky, humorous/less, playful, egocentric, ornery and flawed, and so for that reason it came across as a very human book. The writing was also very human: funny, limpid, insightful, vain, candid, obstreperous... I won't go on, but you get the point, I'm sure. It's also a nice introduction to IRC and the Internet, its denizens and its make-up.

And, yes, I did find it strange to see a regular human-shaped Thomas Pynchon opening up a little, but it doesn't change my image of his books. Why should it? I think the need for some of the "listers" (and some of them did seem to be on a slight mental keel) to take umbrage at Jules Siegal's accounts just highlights a need to hold onto myth, secular or otherwise. A lot of people were disappointed when Pynchon wrote an open, chatty preface to his collection of short stories, Slow Learner. Basically, they just didn't want to see a human face appear behind the parting thunderheads of his mystery--and we all need to believe in something, after all. But don't worry, this book is a great literary snack, and the Pynchon enigma remains intact at its end.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A Lurker Lets Loose, December 5, 1997

By A Customer

Siegal is a Forrest Gump, a human catalyst for the literary and cultural people, products, and events. His genius, revealed early in the brushstrokes of a compulsory hibiscus-flower painting, are transferred into the inspiration for Mario Puzo's Godfather, material fodder for Pynchon's novels, as well as inspiration for R. Crumb and Gilbert Shelton. His is the life that art imitates, his function as muse clashing with that of artist. Apparently awed by his catalytic power and unable to take the heat, he puts himself into self-storage in a tropical paradise where local language barriers provide a buffer of non-conductivity for this nugget of American cultural uranium. Along comes the internet. Here we are exposed to Jules' brief reintroduction, and see what he sees on the way back. He examines elements of our computer infrastructure and culture like an archeologist: is it a chamber pot or sacrificial vessel? But then the chain-reactions start again, as he coerces his former wife to do a chatroom interview about her fling with Pynchon. Jules neatly gets the last word on all his critics as he signs off.