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"Scripts're in the top drawer."
But they were all purple, Dittoed--worn, torn, stained with coffee.
Nothing else in the drawer. "Hey.... Where's the original? What did
you make these copies from?" (Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49, 77-78)
In the spring of 2001, the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center (HRC) at The University of Texas at Austin announced its "acquisition of the corrected typescript to Thomas Pynchon's first novel, V. [1963]," along with eight letters written by Pynchon to Faith and Kirkpatrick Sale between 1960 and 1964 (Stephen Smith). Until now, critics have not had much apart from Pynchon's novels and stories to work on or with: the occasional letter; Pynchon's introduction to Slow Learner, his 1984 collection of the short stories he published between 1959 and 1964; some juvenilia (contributions to a high school newspaper, reprinted in the Pynchon bibliography by Clifford Mead); and a little nonfiction, including a New York Times Magazine article on the Watts riots. This lack of materials put Pynchon scholars at a disadvantage when it came to genetic criticism, in which texts are studied with a focus on their development. How did Pynchon's novels come to be what they are? We had almost no way of knowing until now, but the HRC typescript radically changes this situation with regard to V.
We were aided in the early stages of our research into the Ransom Center's acquisition by the late Stephen Tomaske, a librarian at California State University at Los Angeles who had been doing biographical research on Pynchon for some twenty years. Since we thought (perhaps erroneously) that Pynchon himself would not like to collaborate on this project, we approached Corlies ("Cork") Smith, Pynchon's editor for V. at the publishing house J. B. Lippincott. Smith was extremely forthcoming. We interviewed him by telephone and face to face, and he even provided us with nearly all his editorial correspondence with Pynchon about V. (1) Those letters proved invaluable, since they provide the key to the connection between the Ransom Center's typescript and the published novel.
The correspondence we have between Cork Smith and Pynchon starts in March 1960 with a "'Hello There!'" note from Smith and ends abruptly in June 1962 in the midst of a discussion about the place of a specific chapter in the eventual text. Thanks to the good offices of Pynchon's recently acquired agent, the famous Candida Donadio, Lippincott had bought his story "Low-lands" for inclusion in issue 16 of its New World Writing series, which came out in 1960. Donadio knew that Pynchon was writing a novel, and she managed to sell this unfinished novel to Lippincott as well. The date on the contract (as we learned from Tzofit Butler, the manager of the Information Center Archives at HarperCollins, which currently holds the rights to V.) is January 29, 1960. Cork Smith told us in this connection that Lippincott also "faked up a delivery date. We put it like a year and a half later or something." Sure enough, on August 2, 1961, Smith wrote to Pynchon that Lippincott had accepted the novel. Smith recalls that, since the decision had to be cleared with his boss, he must have received the novel perhaps three or four weeks before the beginning of August, which means Pynchon delivered almost exactly on the fake date added at the time of the contract.
The novel reached Lippincott in a box via Pynchon's agent. Smith is adamant that this box contained a clean typewritten original. Therefore, that document is not what can now be consulted in Austin. The typescript acquired by the HRC is a copy rather than an original. To be more precise, the typescript features two kinds of copies, one black, the other various shades of blue. Sarah Funke, an employee of Glenn Horowitz Bookseller in New York, through whom the HRC bought the typescript, identified the blue pages as carbon copies. But the crispness of the type, evidence of scraping, and exactness of corrections on the blue pages led Sharon Krafft to suggest to us that they are the result of the spirit duplicating process commonly known as Ditto after its best-known brand name. This conclusion has since been confirmed by Stephanie Watkins, Head of Paper Conservation at the HRC. The black pages are photocopies. Indeed, according to Watkins's preliminary examination, most of the black pages appear to be photocopies of Dittoes. (2) So, since the HRC typescript contains pages in blue as well as in black; since it includes various inserts and small corrections, some of which seem to be in Pynchon's handwriting; and since it was most likely prepared on at least two different typewriters, "one of which was in various stages of dysfunction" (Funke)--for all these reasons, we are sure that the HRC typescript is not what Pynchon sent to Lippincott from Seattle, where he was working for Boeing, in late June or early July of 1961. Interestingly, however, the HRC typescript was kept for almost forty years, before being sold, in an envelope postmarked in New York and labeled with "J. B. Lippincott's printed mailing label used for posting 'educational material'" (Funke), and so it must have played a special role in the publishing history of V. But what role?
V. was published in March of 1963. Around Labor Day of 1962, Corlies Smith had moved from Lippincott to Viking. Although we can infer from the Smith-Pynchon correspondence that most of the important editorial work on the novel had been done by the time Smith left Lippincott, we can also tell by comparing the V. galleys (owned by the HRC since 1968) and the published novel that Pynchon kept making textual changes, small and not so small, down to the wire. It is most likely that the person with practical responsibility for V. after Smith left was Faith Sale, a friend of Pynchon's from their days at Cornell who happened to be working for Lippincott as an editorial assistant when V. was in the making, and who in fact already knew the novel before she took it over from Smith. In an August 31, 1961, letter to Smith, Pynchon wrote that he had asked Sale for "any criticism" she could give him. We assume that, if Pynchon wanted criticism from Sale about his novel, he would have sent her a copy. We think he sent her the HRC typescript after using it as the basis for the clean copy (perhaps produced by a hired typist) that he sent to Lippincott in late June / early July. We believe, in other words, that the HRC typescript must have been Pynchon's dead copy or foul matter. All the references in the Smith-Pynchon letters we have to details of the text submitted to Lippincott in 1961 correspond to the contents of the HRC typescript.
Pynchon does not seem to have had a duplicate of the clean script he sent to Lippincott, since he wrote to Smith on March 13, 1962 (in a crucial letter announcing the revision to which we will return soon), that Smith's copy of the novel was "the only one in existence," and that he would "need it to do rewriting." Smith, who told us that in those budding days of Xerox copying it was fairly common for an author not to have kept a duplicate of his own text, sent Pynchon what he asked for. The accompanying letter of March 22, 1962, begins, "Herewith your script." A handwritten note at the end of that letter saying "Duplicate ms. in Philadelphia" suggests that the Lippincott headquarters kept a copy of the clean typescript.
Source: HighBeam Research, Fast Learner: the typescript of Pynchon's V. at the Harry Ransom...