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Maybe It's Just Porn: An Analysis of Sex in Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow (1973)

Without a doubt, sex is a prevalent theme in Thomas Pynchon’s works. It especially stands out in Gravity’s Rainbow (1973) – from heterosexual love-making between two to a full-fledged orgy sparked by a voyeuristic display of sadomasochistic lust, Pynchon presents his readers with a colourful array of sexual activity that seems to fit in no other category besides that of strange ambiguity: cryptic, “weird … sexual predilections” (Severs & Leise 11) that appear at random, with seemingly little to no meaning or relevance to the rest of the novel. This lack of order is incredibly Pynchonian, as “[d]efinite answers [to the long-standing question of what they symbolise] are impossible; [his] work revels in its ambiguities” (House 1).


I argue, however, that sex is revealed as an important tool for the consolidation of political power in the text. In particular, one of the key characters in the novel, “They”, use sex to reinforce Their power over those enmeshed within the very System They have created. Here, “They” refers to a mysterious figure who is “variable enough for the paranoid finger to point at conspiracies at both bureaucratic and cosmic levels” (3). In short, it is impossible for readers to affirm Their real identity or who They may be emblematic of. Moreover, the paranoia that Pynchon cultivates through his obsessive of the term as both word and concept – it “even gives birth to a new English verb: Tyrone Slothrop “paranoids from door to door” in a Nice hotel” (Bersani 1) – compels them to turn to conspiracist theories for answers, an approach further fuelled by the novel’s portrayal of Their immense power over other characters, as “They actually do act like puppeteers, steering the actions of seemingly everyone in the novel” (Newhouse np). In other words, readers are inclined to regard Them as “a shadowy [political or state] institution” at the very least, “an exhibition of strength and security … taken to such an extent that its influence cannot be escaped”, “powerful, pseudolegal, and amoral” (np). Moreover, perverse sex, as I will define within the context of the period during which Gravity’s Rainbow was conceived (i.e. between the 1960’s and early 1970’s), is a particularly convenient point from which such immense political power can be exercised, as They interpellate perverse sexual behaviours into Their strategy of maintaining and asserting Their power. Yet, Their manipulation of sex and power is arguably a mere microcosm of the larger penetration of power as symbolized by the phallic Rocket. Nevertheless, it is clear that in both instances of the tango between sex and power, individuals are pushed to the brink of death.


It is first important to note that sex cannot be divorced from notions of power. Michel Foucault posits that the relationship between these two is best explained through the concept of Biopower, power that is underpinned by “an explosion of numerous and diverse techniques for achieving the subjugations of bodies” (140). One example he cites is the state interest in the sexuality education of children, as it is ultimately premised on the larger goal of controlling the size and behaviour of the population (142); power is attained by demanding the discipline of the body via the controlling of sexual behaviours at the level of the individual. This then allows for a better regulation of the overall population, and, in effect, the normalization of state authority. Clearly, the horrifying ability of the state, a “instrument (bureaucracy) [that has been] designed to be impersonal and calculating” (Waldo, quoted in Gawthrop 210), to bleed into even the most intimate of spaces – not just the private sphere (bedroom), but individual bodies – through its social policies only serves to heighten Foucault’s suggestion that sex is indeed a powerful channel through which state power can be realized. In Gravity’s Rainbow, this is taken to the extreme, as sex is presented and used as the ultimate means to an end, a political tool that is perhaps best illustrated in the state manipulation of Brigadier Pudding and Franz Pokler’s sexual fantasies in the second half of the novel.


However, Pynchon already hints at this complicated relationship between sex and power from the start, as readers are uncomfortably introduced to the penetration of the phallus in everyday life from the beginning of the novel. For one, Pirate Prentice harbours a strange obsession with the phallic banana, lamenting about “diced bananas… banana croissants and banana kreplach, and banana oatmeal and banana jam and banana bread, and banana flamed in ancient brandy” (Pynchon 11). Later, it is revealed that the banana/phallus is significant in facilitating communication, as he uses his semen to uncover a message sent by Them (74). Kyptosam is used to hide the contents of the message, which “[i]n the absence of seminal fluid, [will] … remain invisible. No other reagent, among those available to operatives will alter “Kyptosam” to visible melanin” (72-3). From here, it is clear that sex has become so intertwined in the relationship between the bureaucratic monolith (“Them”) and individuals in the society, that it has essentially become the foundation for language, the banana/phallus acting as a medium for Their dissemination of information.


More importantly, this scene already gives readers a glimpse of Their immense power. As Prentice examines the message, he notes that a “proper stimulus [is] included… which will reliably produce tumescence and ejaculation”, and it requires a “thorough knowledge of the addressee’s psychosexual profile” (73). For Prentice, this translates to a pornographic photograph of Scorpia Mossmoon, but even then it comes as a shock to him since he “never told anyone” (73) of this sexual fantasy of his, thus forcing him to wonder, “Could there be, somewhere, a dossier, could They (They?) somehow have managed to monitor everything he saw and read since puberty… how else would They know?” (73). Thus, “They [not only] know” everything about everyone from as early as “puberty”, but possess the ability to find out more if they wish as well. In this manner, it becomes clear that They possess significant “power over bodies”, hence epitomizing Foucault’s concept of Biopower (Foucault 131).


However, Foucault’s analysis of Biopower does not account for instances of an individual not satisfying the demands imposed by authorities, especially with regards to the disciplining of sexual behaviours. He only highlights that figures of authority are no longer interested in overt punishments or condemnations of the actions of flouters (129). This does not explain how authorities respond when the aforementioned controlling of sexual behaviours via sexuality education fails, resulting in individuals engaging in sexual behaviours that fall beyond what is acceptable, participating in the excepted rather than the expected — and this is exactly what Pynchon zooms in on in Gravity’s Rainbow. Slothrop, for instance, seems to possess an ability to predict rocket bombings with his “peculiar sensitivity to what is revealed in the sky” (Pynchon 27) and “sneaky hardon[s], stirring, ready to jump” (27) throughout the book. There is no “physiological basis for [this]… very odd behavior” (90), which in turn renders him “psychopathically deviant” (91) at best, an emblem of the excepted.


Here, I posit that They do not punish individuals like Slothrop, but interpellates their “peculiar” (27) sexual behaviours into Their own strategy of maintaining and asserting Their power. Pointsman, a Pavlovian psychologist who works for Them, attempts to enforce control over Slothrop by tracing the wake of his erections, addedly ensuring that They are always there to ‘contain’ them by “slipping” Katje, another agent, “into his bed like nickels under the pillow” (213). Katje’s body acts like a canister, literally ‘containing’ Slothrop’s “hard-ons” each time they appear; at the same time, it doubly functions as a kind of surveillance camera that allows Them to maintain and reinforce Their power over Slothrop, as she markedly “s[its], smoking, watching [and surveying Slothrop] while he slept” (229). In addition, even Sir Stephen, another one of Their spies, is suggested to have been recruited precisely because he “can’t masturbate half the time… no nasty jissom getting all over [T]heir reports” (219). Like Slothrop’s sudden and random erections, Sir Stephen’s sexual impotence was simply “not a naturally occurring phenomenon” (Masters and Johnson np), especially at the time when Pynchon’s novel was written. This not only cements how They integrate unorthodox sexual behaviours into the regulation of Their authority and interests, but in doing so they are exploiting the binaries of what is sexually acceptable/conventional and what is not.


In fact, in the mid-1960’s and early 1970’s, sex was still superimposed with bars of conservatism. The act of masturbation itself, while “viewed today as a fairly innocuous activity”, was considered “a perversion against nature, a heinous sin and a habit that had the potential to bring about serious physical and mental debilities” (Peakman 45) like Sir Stephen’s physical impotence. This may be corroborated with research conducted by Masters and Johnson in 1966, which revealed much sexual inadequacy among Americans, owing to a very low exposure to sexual activity beyond the boundaries of heteronormativity (np). One could thus argue that almost all the sex Pynchon presents in Gravity’s Rainbow is ‘perverse’ from the get-go (i.e. Prentice’s act of masturbation), in that they go against the conventional standards of sex at the time.


Notably, one branch of such extremely ‘perverse’ sex would be that of sadomasochism (S/M), which has only recently found its way into the realm of general acceptance. According to Kathy Sisson, the “cultural visibility of sadomasochism… has increased” only over the past thirty years, with “S/M themes [primarily] punctuat[ing] popular books” of the late 1990’s and early 2000’s (154). In the mid-1960’s and early 1970’s (i.e. the period during which Gravity’s Rainbow was written), it was still “hid[ing] underground” (154) due to the “fear of discrimination, harassment and legal prosecution… [and threat of] obscenity charges” (Suel 7). Moreover, “[g]overnment censorship and prosecution limited the scope of these communities and enterprises until the 1960s” (Sisson 157), which then witnessed S/M’s nascent entrance into public view (Suel 8). Yet even then, it remained as part of a muted sexual counterculture and taboo because of its associations with rape and torture (Langdrige et al 172) – and is in fact a category under the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) even today. In other words, Pynchon’s blatant use of sadomasochistic desires and sex is bound to have shocked the general audience when Gravity’s Rainbow was published.


At the same time, Pynchon presents these instances of sadomasochistic sexual urges as closely tied to the assertion of Their power. This is perhaps best seen in Their manipulation of Pudding’s sadomasochistic fantasy of engaging in urolagnia and coprophagia. Pudding had expressed concern with the funding of Pointsman’s Slothrop project, inciting “[a] degree of well-bred panic” (Pynchon 230) from other members of the Slothrop group at the possibility of him “shoot[ing] down the whole scheme, all it’ll take is one bad night” (230). In order to counter the threat that he poses to the project, Pointsman blatantly exploits his coprophagic fantasies in order to ensure that he “will not go back on any of his commitments” (231), his access to such information likely attributed to The System’s aforementioned “thorough knowledge of [Their employees’] psychosexual profiles” (73). He then assigns Katje the role of The Domina Nocturna, who not only gives Pudding “[s]ix [whips of her cane] on the buttocks, six more across the nipples” (237), but also urinates and defecates in his mouth. Pudding willingly “opens his mouth to catch the stream… [of] warm urine” (238) and “surround [her] hot turd with his lips” (238), “com[ing] quickly” (239), evidence of his latent sadomasochistic desires.


What is more important is the fact that Pointsman is the one who orchestrates all this—he is the one who gives Katje’s “instructions… not to smoke” (236) as well as “laxative pills with her meals” (238), and “dose[s] of penicillin… [to Pudding,] to combat the effects of E. Coli” (239). By indulging Pudding in his sadomasochistic fantasies, Pointsman is therefore able to remove any threats to the pursuit of his – and Their – project. There would be no more “budgetary insecurity… filter[ing] in among the cherub-crusted halls and nooks of the PISCES facility” (230). The taboo nature of coprophagia, which is largely regarded as unacceptable even in the 21st Century (evident from the public outcry over the infamous “2 Girls 1 Cup” pornographic film), is what forces Pudding to acquiesce to Pointsman’s demands and retreat from his previously adamant stance towards the Slothrop project, lest it becomes known to “the rest of “The White Visitation”” (239).


However, I would like to suggest that it is what the sadomasochistic desires reflect that is being exploited, rather than the sadomasochistic urges themselves. In Pudding’s case, it is actually his longing for a kind of innocence and transcendence beyond the profane world he is living in. What underpins his “need for pain… [is his need] for something real, something pure” (Pynchon 237), and a truth that goes beyond “paper illusions and military euphemisms” (237). Notably, his desire is reminiscent of the twentieth-century occupation with the loss and pursuit of “the capital T truth” (Teh np), which contrasts against the mundane “late-night cup of broth, routine papers to sign” (Pynchon 239). Either way, the Domina Nocturna acts as a figure through which the “[p]oor mortal Brigadier” (238) Pudding’s submission can achieve a kind of transcendence, if not simply a sense of wholeness. Indeed, his “penis stands at present arms” (236) at the thought of “always be[ing] at [her] service” (236), his “true body: undisguised by uniform, uncluttered by drugs” (237), “bare as a baby” (236). The image of the vulnerable “baby” is especially poignant as it reveals his longing for a kind of lost innocence, when there was still “[that] truth” (237) to fight wars for (235). Thus, it is Pudding’s longing for an unpolluted truth that has been reconfigured in terms of sadomasochistic desire which is being exploited by The System, rather than the desire itself.


The same can be said for Franz Pökler, whose sadomasochistic sexual relationship with Leni and incestuous relationship with Isle reveal his desire for dominance, unlike Pudding’s need for submission. Evidently, he harbours sadomasochistic desires, as seen from his interest in “the delicious victim [his wife Leni] bound to her dungeon rack” (Pynchon 403) and his violent urge to “whip [her] again whip until [she] bleed[s]” (403). However, it is actually his lust for dominance that is being reconfigured in terms of sadomasochistic desire. This would then explain his incestuous relationship with Isle, his daughter, whom he violently “hit[s]… upside the head with his open hand, a loud and terrible blow” (427) before engaging in “hours of amazing incest” (427). According to John Hamill, incest, “within a particular cultural framework, is the most extreme form of sadistic power play possible, so that transition is by no means incompatible” (58); within the structures of this relationship, Pökler is dominant as both lover and father. Ironically, it is this lust for a semblance of control that leaves him vulnerable to further manipulation by The System, for it is through this that They are able to continue their oppression of Pökler, who cannot “quit the game” (Pynchon 437) and is only left “shuddering terribly” (437). This is especially since They are the ones who organize Pökler’s annual meetings with Isle, the only medium through which his desire can be mediated. Like Pudding, Pökler’s desire has been reconstructed along sadomasochistic desire, and while it is not outwardly condemned, it becomes interpellated into The System’s entrapment of him and the maintenance of Their power.


The success of Their attempts at oppressing Pökler and Pudding through sex may be further explained by Réne Girard’s concept of triangulation. According to him, metaphysical desire reveals an individual’s desire for something ethereal and transcendental, existing beyond the physical human experience; and it is not linear but triangular, comprising instead a subject, his/her object of desire and a mediator. This is because the object of this desire (the metaphysical) can never be possessed in the profane, and thus it is consistently mediated by an individual who acts as a substitute for such desire. This then culminates in a triangle across the individual, the object of desire, and the mediator of such desire (168). However, such transcendence can manifest through the masochist’s suffering as well. The masochist “now chooses to see in shame, defeat, and enslavement not the inevitable results of an aimless faith and an absurd mode of behaviour but rather the signs of divinity and the preliminary condition of all metaphysical success” (Girard 177). Thus, in Pudding’s case, the object of his desire is his longing for transcendence, with the Domina Nocturna acting as a substitute. As for Pökler, it is perhaps less of transcendence and more of a need for control vis-à-vis his forced submission to The System, which is in turn mediated by his sadomasochistic relationships with both his wife and daughter. In fact, Pökler realizes that he “understood that he had been negotiating [his own desire for power with] his child and for Leni… He was expected to behave in a certain way—not just play a certain role but live it. Any deviations into jealousy, metaphysics, vagueness would be picked up immediately” (Pynchon 422) and used against him.


Notably, this is not only limited to The System, but other systems created by figures of similar “highest levels” (Pynchon 74) as well, such as Dominus Blicero. His sex slave, Gottfried, is being entrapped within the cages of his own sadomasochistic desires like Pökler and Pudding. Gottfried “enjoys [being submissive] so much – the word bitch, spoken now in a certain tone of voice, will give him an erection he cannot will down” (105), and he experiences a peace in “being taken” (105). Here, I suggest that Gottfried’s need for submission is an interlacing of both Pökler’s incestuous desire and Pudding’s longing for transcendence. He thinks of his relationship with Blicero not in terms of a master-slave or dominant-slave dynamic, but through the lens of “love in illustrations for children” (Pynchon 774), innocent, pure, and wholesome. He sees himself as Blicero’s child of sorts, evident from Pynchon’s presentation of Blicero’s “idea of comfort[ing]… the child” (105-6, emphasis mine). It is therefore no wonder that, unlike Katje, he is unwilling to escape Blicero’s clutches—he passively watches Katje escape instead of joining her (104) and will “tell [Blicero] what he saw” (104) if he asks, much like a brother telling on his sister to their parent. It is in fact worthy to note that Gottfried expresses frustration at Katje for not being “[a] loyal sister” (106) to him, someone who “must love Captain Blicero too” (104).


Blicero makes use of Gottfried’s submissive desires in order to fulfil his own aspiration to be a Lord of death (101) by launching the 0000, a rocket similar to the V2-Rocket. Brought “up in a Christian ambience” (101) and an understanding of the structures of religious worship (102), the legitimisation of his godliness requires a kind of sacrifice—and it is Gottfried who ends up fulfilling this role, as the sacrificial lamb. The 0000 is an Oven that Blicero’s Destiny is dependent on (100) and Gottfried is the key “Schwarzgerat” (765). Gottfried poignantly stops himself from “cry[ing] out” (774) as the rocket is being launched because he genuinely believed that “Blicero wanted to make it easier for [him], he knew [he]’d try to hold on—hold each voice, each hum or crackle” (774). Certainly, perhaps Blicero did want to “make it easier” for him, since “he cares, more than he should… about the children” (101), but there is little doubt that he acts as the mediator of Gottfried’s sadomasochistic desires either way. Once again, perverse sex – in this instance, Gottfried’s own incestuous sadomasochism, an unnerving interweaving of Pökler’s sexual interests with Pudding’s – has become a point from which systems of “the highest levels” (74) conveniently exploit.


Unfortunately for the victims, this often catalyzes, if not simply leads to their deaths. Like how sex ends in la petite mort (“a small death”), individuals are pushed to the brink of death through sex. As I have shown, Gottfried dies at the hands of Blicero’s desire for power. Pudding, too, eventually succumbs to an E. Coli infection later on, which he contracts from his nights with the Domina Nocturna.


However, I would like to postulate that theirs are microcosms of the bigger picture, petitedeaths vis-à-vis the larger penetration of power as symbolized by the Rocket. In doing so, it is first important to consider the Orgasm as a conceptual model. The Orgasm invokes “the anticipated millennium, being in equal parts both apocalyptic horror and divine bliss” (Pettman np). The Rocket, a phallic “steel banana” (Pynchon 8), induces apocalyptic tension among the characters in the novel, which parallels the build-up to an Orgasm. Slothrop expresses paranoia at how the rocket could come “any time, the next second, right, just suddenly” (25), such that he becomes “obsessed with the idea of a rocket with his name written on it” (25). Even Roger Mexico and Jessica Swanlake express paranoia at when the rocket might strike them, resulting in them being “oddly unable to touch” (61), “[t]heir hearts pound[ing]. Eardrums brushed taut by the overpressure ring[ing] in pain” (61). Pynchon presents the final moments of anticipation of the Rocket’s arrival at the end as well: “at this dark and silent frame, that the pointed tip of the Rocket, falling nearly at a mile per second, absolutely and forever without sound, reaches its last unmeasurable gap above of this old theatre, the last delta-t” (775). There is no time to react but to just wait, heart in mouth, for the Rocket to arrive, “[c]ruel, hard, thrusting into the virgin-blue robes of the sky” (764). And when it does, it results in not just la petite mort, but les petites morts. It is the “bright angel of death” (775). The rocket is, in essence, the biggest “fucker” (623) of them all.


Horrifyingly enough, Pynchon makes it clear that it is impossible to escape such consequences. At first glance, sex appears to be an inflection of personal rebellion, an act of defiance against the conditions imposed by the demands of World War II, the backdrop against which the novel is set. Mexico and Swanlake, for instance, engage in a sexual relationship in spite of their circumstances: not only are they on opposite sides of the War, but Swanlake is married to “Beaver, or Jeremy, as he is known to his mother” (Pynchon 123) as well. Yet the duo willingly risks their lives to “occupy [a house in the stay-away zone] illegally, in a defiance they can never measure unless they’re caught” (41), deliberately choosing “need” (41) over reputation and the possibility of death at the hands of War. Similarly, the homosexual prison-camp inmates who set up a camp beyond Dora see their sexuality as a mode of liberation (679). Sex is thus presented as both an escape from and an inflection of a personal rebellion against the punitive reality of their situations apropos of “the blast still reverberating” (40) in the distance – and yet, it is all in vain. Pynchon emphasizes the futility of this with the sudden interjection of “[a] terrific blast quite close beyond the village” (61) just as Mexico and Swanlake are about to have sex, a grim reminder of the mortality of their relationship and inability to escape War. In fact, “[d]eath… stands watching them, iron and patient, with a look that says try to tickle me” (61), mocking the duo’s naivety in believing that they can skirt around it. For the homosexual prison-camp inmates, insofar as they are “liberat[ed]” (679), they nonetheless await Blicero, whose name literally means “White Death”. Thus, it appears that sex will always end in (small) death(s) – the deaths of individuals, small and insignificant as compared to the Rocket as well as Their extensive plans, secrets and incredible power.


In conclusion, sex is an important tool for the consolidation of political power in the text. Perverse sex is a useful point from which such power can be exercised, owing to its psychological underpinnings. Either way, the oppression of individual lives through sex may be seen as microcosmic of the larger penetration of power as embodied by the phallic Rocket. In all instances, however, individuals are nonetheless pushed to the brink of death. Then again, as with the strange ambiguity that underscores all of Pynchon’s works, to quote Thomas Jones, “maybe it’s just porn” (np).

 

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