SOUNDTRACK: TOADIES-“Summer of the Strange” (2012).
Toadies had a hit (which is still played on “Modern Rock” radio today) in 1994 called “Possum Kingdom.” I really liked the song because the tempo was way off kilter and the lyrics were inscrutable (“Do you wanna die?” “So help me Jesus.”). And the singer had a screamy kind of voice that sounded like he might be unhinged. It was a very improbable hit and yet there it was. And then Toadies went away.
When I heard that they had put out other albums I was surprised, so I looked them up and saw that they got into all kinds of legal grief with their record label during the (abandoned) release of their second album. And they basically broke up for like ten years. And then they got back together and then re-recorded their delayed album and then put out the album that this song is on.
I’ve only listened to couple of songs from Play.Rock.Music. I didn’t like the one with the horns (that may have been a remix actually), but overall the albums sounded quite Toadies-like. And this song (with the very weird–perhaps too intentionally weird) contained some of the craziness of that first single. It opens with a simple bass and drum set up. Then there’s some odd ball vocals and some fuzzy smattering of guitars. Then the guitars roar in and the chorus is strangely catchy, and the lead vocalist sounds like he still might be a bit unhinged.
By the end of the song, the guitar solo is a wild affair and the rest of the band is noisy and distorted and a little sleazy and you kind of leave the song feeling just a bit dirty–a perfect Toadies song.
[READ: September 1, 2014] Pale Summer Week 8 (§48-§50)
Because I was on vacation, I didn’t notice that the Pale Summer group read had stayed on an earlier chapter and were just getting the read rolling again. So, I’m already ahead of the spoiler line. But since I have this post written and I’m anal retentive, I’m going to post my final sections on the originally slated date (okay a day late for Labor day). But as a concession to everyone else, I’m going to save the end pages and my thoughts on the book for next week.
So this week’s post is about the end of the book proper. And next week will contain the comments from Pietsch at the end of the book as well as the additional materials that were included in the paperback.
A lot of information is handed out in these first two sections. However, it’s not entirely clear what happened. And as with the unfinished book we’re left wondering if any more of the story would have clarified anything.
§48
This section opens as a dialogue with the main speaker being addressed as “Sir” and “Mr Director, Sir” (It is Dewitt Glendenning). He explains that he is upset “down low” if you get his meaning. He then proceeds to tell his interlocutors about the Examinations annual picnic in Coffield Park. The men the director is talking to are not with the police, they are with the Service (Chicago, Post 1516) and are named Agent Norm Clothier and Special Agent Aylortay (ha). The director is disgusted by the picnic and goes on and on about how there’s a lot of protein because examiners eat like wild beasts. He assumes his listeners know all this (they say they’ve read the reports). He is really going on about the food (and the flies–which can be rather gross). He also says he doesn’t think of the GS-9s as having children, yet there they are.
It is clear that Glendenning is having troubles. Something happened at the picnic which made everyone hallucinate (perhaps). In any case, people acted quite crazily at this normally mundane event.
The Audits eat less than the examiners. There were no CID at the picnic (they don’t mix well).
Marge van Hool’s husband brought beers (they have spoken to Mr Van Hool). They ask if Dwitt noticed anything out of the ordinary with the iced tea or the Jell-O. A lot of people drank the tea (it was brewed, not that horrible mix). It came in a big orange urn with Gatorade on the side. No children drank the tea (the examiners call their children “their little Line 40s” (521)).
The Director is full of useless (in this case) information about bugs and some other agents–Fechner has a glass eye–he opened beer bottle with the socket.
Aylortay reveals that “The incursion may or may not have been tactical” (522). The director thinks they were coming out of the trees (is he referring to people or mosquitos?) but Aylortay says they were rappelling.
There is a question about the knives and one of the Agents brandishes the knife in a threatening way but the other say “no cutting yet.” Nevertheless, Aylortay says it’s right there, that they should just “cut it out of him.” (What?)
Then they ask about Drinion. He was at the table, not taking part.
They start grilling the Director, as he talks about the three legged race and all the adults falling over while trying to reach their children. Then one of the agents asks about the Director’s “third leg” which is what Miriam called it before it repelled her. And then things get (more) confusing with unnamed people speaking. Suddenly a woman is mentioned, “Why DeWitt you old scalawiggle! I’m still a woman you know!” (525).
He says he saw people copulating under the grill. Then Taylor calls him an impotent old fag.
[This section felt like the Nighttown scene in Ulysses, and I’m sure it can be parsed, but with so few clues as to who is speaking, and so little information from earlier chapters, it’s hard to process details. I have to assume this is the ultimate goal of Lehrl’s men, but it’s hard to determine just what exactly is happening here–aside from the spiked tea of course].
§49
“Irrelevant’ Chris Fogle has this final longish section. He sat waiting in the reception area of the Director’s office. No one knew what it meant that Merrill Errol Lehrl was using Mr. Glendenning’s office. [Giving the previous section it makes sense that the picnic was some kind of coup]. Glendnning and his staff were up at Regional; Mrs Oooley wasn’t there either. One of Lehrl’s aides was at her desk, his first or last name was Reynolds. And Sylvanshine was in a chair to Fogle’s right. They appeared to be pre-briefing him. They both spoke in a rapid excited way without showing any excitement. They spoke of the two ways people could rise to prominence in the Service. Fogle imagines that these two were legendary dickheads at their home office.
One way to advance was through slow steady demonstrations of competence and loyalty. The other is the eclat. A sudden extraordinary idea or innovation. Dr Lehrl is the such an éclat.
He was a low level examiner when he had an idea about exemptions. Up until 1979 filers could declare dependents just by name. And there was no way to check these. So Lehrl suggested that people have to include the SSN of the dependent. It didn’t really make things easier to check, but the filers didn’t know that. The first year 6.9 million dependents disappeared. Lehrl’s change made the Service $1.2 billion. Lehrl jumps four grades and becomes one of the most valuable members of the Service. He is also a redesigner, which is where Fogle comes in.
Lehrl’s job is to redesign Posts to get the most out of them. An expertise in automation, personnel , support logistics and overall systems. His genius is incentive. The SSN wasn’t his only éclat, he is a genius of human motivations. He tests people and reads them.
They tell Fogle not to look nervous. Then they give an example of the kind of think that Lehrl might do. When Fogle says he attended DePaul, Lerhl will say “Ah, the Blue Demons,” but it’s not, it’s actually the Blue Devils, so, do you correct Lehrl when he says that? Actually it is the Blue Demons, but whatever, the point is, do you correct him? After few paragraphs, they say the correct answer is that you do correct him. He is testing you to see if you are toady.
Reynolds also says that there will be a seven or eight year old kid in there with him. Don’t ask him if it is his kid. In fact don’t even acknowledge him (for the record, it’s not his kid). There may also be a hand puppet–don’t acknowledge the Doberman hand puppet. (Okay so there are two different Doberman hand puppets, in the book, that was clearly an oversight).
Fogle wants to know why they are telling him this, if it is supposed to be a test. They respond that he has passed the test, it was to see if he was going to take this information from two guys at National and use it when meeting Lehrl, or was he going to actually inquire about it.
But now. Now that Fogle knows all this, what will he do if Lehrl asks him the question? He’s basically a toady wither way. And Lehrl despises toadies.
Then Fogle asks, is Lehrl even in the office? One test at a time, they say. So what do you do?
§50
This is in the second person, addressed to you. The office could be any office. You are a trained observer but there is nothing to observe. No personal touches. The facilitator’s eyes are pop eyed but not creepy. You recline to get comfortable and then the facilitator is not visible. Her voice says “Do not try to relax.”
And the book ends: “She’s right there, speaking calmly, and so are you. ” (538).
§ § § § § § § § § § § §
Obviously DFW is known for he weird, abrupt endings. So this weird, abrupt ending seems in place with his other works. And yet, it’s impossible to know if this weird abrupt ending would have made more sense if there was more information. I’m inclined to assume that the person in the final section is Fogle, simply because of the way the previous section ends. And yet, there has not been a second person narrator before. There are so many unanswered questions, it’s almost futile to try to guess what is happening at the end, but then there are a lot of people who are going to try to, and I look forward to reading what they have to say.

The last chapter and first chapter both have second person implications (e.g. “Read these” to close out that first chapter).