Harrowdown Hill

I just discovered what Thom Yorke’s “Harrowdown Hill” is about: wow. 

Here’s the lyrics to the song:

Don’t walk the plank like I did
You will be dispensed with
When you’ve become inconvenient
Up on Harrowdown Hill
Where you used to go to school
Thats where I am
Thats where I’m lying down

Did I fall or was I pushed?
Did I fall or was I pushed?
And wheres the blood?
And wheres the blood?

I’m coming home
I’m coming home
To make it all right
So dry your eyes

We think the same things at the same time
We just cant do anything about it

So don’t ask me
Ask the ministry
Don’t ask me
Ask the ministry

We think the same things at the same time
There are so many of us 
So you can’t count

We think the same things at the same time
There are too many of us 
So you can’t count

Can you see me when I’m running?
Can you see me when I’m running?
Away from them

I can’t take their pressure
No one cares if you live or die
They just want me gone
They want me gone

I’m coming home
I’m coming home
To make it all right
So dry your eyes

We think the same things at the same time
We just cant do anything about it

We think the same things at the same time
There are too many of us 
So you can’t count

I was lured into the back of Harrowdown Hill
It was me lured into the back of Harrowdown Hill
I was lured into the back of Harrowdown Hill 
It was a slippery slippery slippery slope
It was a slippery slippery slippery slope
I feel me slipping in and out of consciousness
I feel me slipping in and out of consciousness
I feel me…

The horrendous feeling the song produces in my heart is that the songseems so familiar.  How many of us get up and go to work feeling like other people wish we weren’t there, are totally indifferent to our welfare, and indeed, our value?  For all of us that do feel that way about or next day of work, we do think the same things at the same time, and we still can’t do anything about it.  How many of us our living out a miniature version of this story?  Is it “so many that you can’t count?”

Pynchon blogging

I’m now past where I have read before in Against the Day. Only 900 pages to go. Something I think I have noticed so far. I remember reviews saying that ATD is Pynchon’s “most accessible” book. I think I know why. Pynchon’s usual MO is to tell traditional stories in ways that completely obscure their form so that we may see something substantive that form hides. Pynchon is on to something different here. Rather than disguising form, he is forcing several explicit and distinct storytelling forms to coexist in the same narrative. Even though it is still unusual, the explicit tropes of the forms make it feel more familiar in it’s narrative pattern, and thus, more readable.