23 pages • 46 minutes read
Thomas PynchonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
While the characters in “Entropy” seem isolated from the outside world, this world nevertheless looms large in their concerns and in their conversation. In particular, the specter of war and violence seems in different ways to haunt both Meatball and Callisto, giving their isolation an aspect of paranoia. It is significant that the story is set in Washington, DC, and that Meatball and Callisto have a parasitic, defensive relation to their surroundings. They live in the city but are apart from its inner workings. Meatball belongs to a community of disaffected “American expatriates” (82) who are merely killing time in the city until they are able to find a permanent post in Europe; Callisto, in turn, is an exiled European, for reasons that we never learn. Both characters, then, are in limbo, even while they are also right in the hub of American power.
In his introduction to Slow Learner—the collection of early stories in which this story appears—Pynchon states:
[The threat of nuclear bombs] was bad enough in ’59 and is much worse now […] I think we all have tried to deal with this slow escalation of our helplessness and terror in the few ways open to us, from not thinking about it to going crazy about it (18-19).
He is referring here not to “Entropy” but to “Under the Rose,” another, later story in the collection. Nevertheless, both Meatball and Callisto are attempting, in their different ways, to manage this “helplessness and terror” (19). Meatball’s style of coping is to make mordant, flippant jokes and to make a general preemptive show of giving up and doing the bare minimum. He does not even attempt to control the flow of guests in and out of his own apartment, and at the end of the story does not so much restore order to his party as “keep [it] from deteriorating into total chaos” (97). He displays this same jaunty fatalism when talking about ominous global tendencies, as he does with his distraught friend Saul. Saul has just had a fight with his wife that was, he tells Meatball, about “communication theory” (89). He muses to Meatball about the constant threat of government surveillance and the possibility of humans being analyzed like computers, to which Meatball responds, “Why not?” (90).
Callisto is a generation older than Meatball, and he has grown up witnessing the breakdown of world order and the rising threat of nuclear power that to Meatball and his contemporaries is a simple fact of life. Sequestered in his apartment, he broods over the gathering possibility of “heat-death” (88), while remembering the destruction of World War I. On the surface, this “heat-death” is another sort of communication theory, referring to the breakdown of communication that Callisto sees as indicative of entropy:
[He] envisioned a heat-death for his culture in which ideas, like heat-energy, would no longer be transferred, since each point in it would ultimately have the same quantity of energy; and intellectual motion would, accordingly, cease (88-89).
Yet the term “heat-death” suggests nuclear destruction as well, of the sort that a pair of guests at Meatball’s party refers to directly, though offhandedly. A man tells a woman about a jazz pianist who was injured as an army private while handling radiation, explaining that it had “[s]omething to do with the Manhattan Project” (92). She replies to him, “What an awful break for a piano player” (92).
One frequent theme in this story is that of closed systems, or isolated clusters, and their relation to the breakdown of communication. Callisto refers to these closed systems, in his memoir that he is dictating to Aubade, as “galaxy, engine, human being, culture, whatever” (87). He is viewing these closed systems through the lens of entropy; that is, the idea that “things are going to get worse before they get better, who says they’re going to get better” (87). He further extends this lens to those faulty closed systems that exist in the world of fashion and advertising:
He saw, for example, the younger generation responding to Madison Avenue with the same spleen his own had once reserved for Wall Street: and in American ‘consumerism’ discovered a similar tendency from the least to the most probable […] from ordered individuality to a kind of chaos (88).
These closed systems also appear, in more immediate, real-life form, at Meatball’s party downstairs. There is the closed system of the Duke di Angeles jazz quartet, which eventually displays its breakdown by miming a song rather than playing it. The group of US Navy men who crash the party is arguably another type of flawed closed system—given that these men behave like thugs—as is the marriage of Saul and Miriam, which has just broken up due to an argument about “communication theory” (89). The party itself is as a closed system, one that is both holding steady and on the verge of falling apart.
Yet Meatball’s party proves to be more durable of a shelter than Callisto’s own apartment. It is ironic that Callisto has designed his apartment in order to fend off breakdown and destruction when his apartment exemplifies the very sort of closed system that he sees as vulnerable to entropic breakdown. It is its own ecosystem, a brittle sanctuary of plant and bird life, and its separateness from the outside world also means that the smallest intrusions from this world can disrupt its order. Ultimately, it is the sounds from Meatball’s party downstairs that disturb Callisto and Aubade’s idyll and alert them to their own fragility:
Then something from downstairs—a girl’s scream, an overturned chair, a glass dropped on the floor, he would never know what exactly—pierced that private time-warp and he became aware of the faltering, the constriction of muscles, the tiny tossings of the bird’s head; and his own pulse began to pound more fiercely, as if trying to compensate (97).
In his introduction to Slow Learner, Pynchon states that he now considers “Entropy” to be primarily a story about “how the 50s were for some folks” (14). The story was written in 1959 and is set in 1957, during the rise of beatnik culture. Jack Kerouac’s novel On the Road—a story of youthful American drop-outs that Pynchon calls, in his introduction, “one of the great American novels” (7)—was published in 1957, and it was both a record of and an inspiration for this culture. As its title suggests, the book is an ode to traveling and to aimless, spontaneous living, and it is a rejection of tradition and institutions. Pynchon describes the book—and beat culture in general—as an important influence on himself and his circle of writer friends, but he also states that they received this as a “secondhand” influence: “We were onlookers […] consumers of what the media of the time were supplying us” (9).
Meatball and his own circle of friends exemplify this passive, secondhand bohemianism. While none of their jobs are specified, we are told that several of them “work for the government” (82), jobs about which they are cynical. They hold on to an idea of moving away to Europe someday, but they are also satisfied in a detached sort of way with their present, compromised circumstances:
Their Dome was a collegiate Rathskeller out on Wisconsin Avenue called the Old Heidelberg and they had to settle for cherry blossoms instead of lime trees when spring came, but in its lethargic way their life provided, as they said, kicks (82).
Meatball and his friends have been influenced enough by the beatnik movement to be suspicious of tradition and conservatism, and to have adopted certain beatnik postures and lifestyles. They consume copious amounts of drugs and alcohol; listen to—and play—experimental jazz music; and are unfazed by party-crashing strangers and by girls passed out in bathroom sinks. Yet, unlike the characters in On the Road, they do not go out and explore an unknown America; their bohemianism seems to be a form of retreat, rather than discovery. They simply hide out in Meatball’s apartment and allow the world to come to them.
By Thomas Pynchon