Chapter 3: Page 16: Line 46 (137)

 Dixon withdrawing, broken into a Sweat, "Why aye, it took me weeks of study to fathom that one, but I see You've a brisk Brain in Your gourd there, and I'm pleas'd to be working with such as it be...?"

**********

Line 137 Vulgarized:
Dixon, noticing Mason's flinch and growing worried he's made a bad impression, removes his hand and says, "Why, it took me forever to get that joke. But you've got a good brain on you while I'm just happy that mine works as well as it does."

Subtext:
Dixon understands that until he's aboard ship and bunked next to Mason, he doesn't actually have the job. So he's quick to apologize when he stumbles and compliment Mason as he denigrates himself to assure Mason he means no harm and, if harm has been caused, it's because he's just a rural dimwit. I sure would like to know what the punchline to that joke was though!

I'm not entirely sure if Dixon speaks in questions because that's part of his country accent or if he's deferring to Mason in a way that allows for anything he says to be agreeably negated. Not only does he seem to understand that dialogue is rife with opportunities for miscommunication but he's already seen it happen multiple times in their brief liaison. He's attempting to be careful but he started out a bit too strong and now he's backpedaling as fast as he can before he loses the job.

Chapter 3: Page 16: Lines 44-45 (135-136)

 "You have heard it, then. Apologies," reaching to clasp Mason's arm, a gesture Mason retreats from in a Flinch as free of deliberation as a Sneeze.

**********

Lines 135-136 Vulgarized:
"So you've heard that joke. Sorry." Dixon reaches out to grasp Mason's arm in a friendly and reassuring manner. Mason, without a thought, recoils from Dixon's touch.

Subtext:
Yet another example of the differences between these two men, differences that could hamper communication. Whereas Dixon believes he made a friendly gesture, Mason seems to take it as a minor assault. And Mason's flinching away from an earnest gesture of companionship because he might be unable to easily handle the touch of another person, probably communicates to Dixon, no matter how wrongly, that Mason dislikes or mistrusts him already. Both seem to be trying to get along to the best of their own abilities but their personalities differ so much that each man can only interpret the other's words and action through the lens of their own perception of the world. The entire scene, so far, has been a wonderful example of how communicating with any other human being, no matter how eagerly both parties are to be friendly, can break down in myriad ways.

Chapter 3: Page 16: Line 43 (134)

 "Eeh!" Dixon's nose throbbing redly.

**********

Line 134 Vulgarized:
"Oh!" exclaimed Dixon, his face, especially his nose, having grown redder across the evening.

Subtext:
Dixon often gets drunk. He's got the bright red nose associated with one who drinks a lot. Although, technically, that's caused by rosacea. It's just that alcohol can often be one of the main triggers which stress the rosacea and cause inflammation. Believing somebody is an alcoholic due to their rhinophyma is a microaggression that I'd like to see an end to, being that I have rosacea! Alcoholics often assume I'm one of them. Clerks and baristas sometimes say dumb shit like, "I see you've got some sun!" No, asshole, I have a medical condition, not a sunburn. Get fucked because I'd rather not be reminded of it because you lack any other means of small talk other than commenting on a stranger's appearance. How would you like it if I went up to you and asked, "Oh, has the circus sideshow let out for the summer?"

Hmm, you probably wouldn't care, actually, because you'd just look at me with a confused expression. I admit, it wasn't the best line. But I was flustered due to my alcoholic nose having been brought up!

Chapter 3: Page 16: Lines 40-42 (131-133)

 "Are you crazy?" he whispers, "—People are staring. Sailors are staring."

**********

Lines 131-133 Vulgarized:
Mason's eyes bulging, furtively glancing about the pub, he hisses, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Can't you see we're surrounded by . . . Italians?!"

Subtext:
Mason believes sailors are mostly composed of Italians and that they're prone to violence when they think they're being mocked by some Northerner. Maybe Mason is just embarrassed by his new acquaintance's gregarious nature. And he probably respects sailors too much to want to bother them with loud, drunken talking in a public sphere. Or, pretty obviously, Mason is afraid of getting his ass kicked.

However one interprets this line, we can all probably agree that it provides a moment of clear demarcation between the two men's personalities. Dixon is loud, gregarious, and oblivious to the judgments of those around him. Mason is quiet, anxious, and quick to avoid conflict. Aren't they cute together?

Chapter 3: Page 16: Line 39 (130)

 Mason has been edging away.

**********

Line 130 Vulgarized:
Mason, wanting no part of Dixon's gregarious and insulting imitation of an Italian, pretends not to be with this maniac.

Subtext:
Pynchon could be making a sex joke here! Maybe the real vulgarized line is this: "Mason, enjoying terrible racists and anti-religious jokes to the point of ecstasy, has been fiddling with himself under the table, repeatedly bringing himself to the edge of orgasm and then backing off rapidly." Probably not though. The subtext is that Mason wants to make the ampersand between the two of them bigger than usual so that sailors who might want to beat Dixon's ass for this insult will not beat Mason's ass as well. "I know the title of this book makes us seem like an inseparable pair but, I assure you, I do not approve of this kind of sordid and stereotypical mocking of others!" Or maybe Mason does enjoy this kind of humor but not in this exact setting! That's understandable too. Remember when Edgelords understood where and when their Edgelord humor would be met with like-minded Edgelords and didn't insist that they should have the right to be as racist and misogynistic as possible in every single situation presented in life? Oh wait. Has that time ever existed? Not in my lifetime! Never mind.

Chapter 3: Pages 15-16: Lines 33-38 (124-129)

 Yet, feeling it his Duty to set them at Ease, he begins, "Well. There's this Jesuit, this Corsican, and this Chinaman, and they're all riding in a greeat Cooach, going up to Bath...? and the fourth Passenger is a very proper Englishwoman, who keeps giving them these scandaliz'd Glances...? Finally, able to bear it no longer, the Corsican, being the most hot-headed of the three, bursts out, and here I hope You will excuse my Corsican Accent, he says, "'Ey! Lady! Whatta Ye lookin' ah'?" And she says,— "

**********

Lines 124-129 Vulgarized:
Sensing things might be getting a little tense between them after Mason's innocent Pitmatic accent mockery followed by Dixon's less-than-innocent London accent mockery, Dixon tries to ease the tension with a bawdy joke. "A Jesuit, an Italian, and a Chinese guy are sharing a coach up to Bath. Sharing the coach with them is an English lady, prim and proper. The woman keeps glancing at the men in a seemingly scandalous way. The Italian, being hot-headed as you know all Italians are, pipes up and says, "Mama mia! Whatta ya lookin' at?! Gabagool!" She replies...".

Subtext:
If I knew the punchline to this joke, maybe I'd understand the subtext! Dixon doesn't get to finish the joke because, well, look at him making fun of another accent! He's trying to ease the tension caused by doing accents by doing another accent! I think maybe this guy is a rube! Hopefully, Pynchon being Pynchon, there will be a moment later in the novel where a Jesuit, Corsican, and Chinaman all wind up in the same small space with a proper Englishwoman and we get the punchline played out as actual plot.

I suppose this scene also helps the reader to close the distance between the late 1900s and the late 1700s by having Dixon tell a joke with a trope familiar to modern readers. "Why look at that!" exclaims the modern reader. "We're just like these old timey fellas! They tell jokes full of stereotypes and blatant racism too! Just like my favorite joke to tell at office parties about the Rabbi and the Priest and the Cannibal Witch Doctor! Ah ha ha ha! Nobody thinks poorly of me when I tell that humdinger! The life of the party, I am!"

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 32 (123)

 So Dixon for the second time in two minutes finds himself laughing without the Motrix of honest Mirth,— this time, a Mr. Mason-how-you-do-go-on laugh, sidewise and forbearing, the laugh of a hired Foil.

**********

Line 123 Vulgarized:
Dixon fakes a laugh for the second time tonight. The first time, Dixon, confused by Mason's invitation to a drop at Tyburn, laughed uncomfortably. This laugh, more precisely executed: Dixon looking off to the side, maybe with a wave of one hand, his beer cradled close to his chest with the other, a languid, "Ah ha ha ha," with no power behind it, an obvious forgery though not intended to patronize.

Subtext:
People lie. They lie in many varied ways. In small ways not intended to harm, or misrepresent but to improve sociability, to keep peace. At the smallest scale, one of two people interacting over drinks, we find so many little falsehoods made for a variety of reasons. Now expand this out. To a household. To a large committee. To a community. To a village. To a nation. To the history of the world. The lies, the untruths, building, piling up, gathering steam, overwhelming anything that could possibly be called Truth. This is history. A Jenga tower formed half-full or more with blocks of lies and no way to identify them from the truth. Because hi(stories) pass through multiple tellers, move into the future, are finally written down long past the point where the people who lived them can tell them true. And, again, even if they could tell them true, they're still from one point of view, and that view can't know what the others were thinking, when they were lying, and why.

The point? History is what lies and truths combined have been accepted. Pynchon isn't writing history here (nor is Reverend Cherrycoke telling a true history for future generations; he's trying to stay warm and fed by engaging children); Pynchon is writing a novel with historical figures. And novels often tell actual true things because they aren't mired by the need for actual facts. They tell truths about human nature, about the need for empathy, the terror of brief existence, the responsibility of community, and the weight of desire.

Sometimes we're told lies and we react truthfully. Sometimes we're told truths and we lie in our reactions. And then there are, mathematically, some other ways to arrange those things as well!

Or maybe Dixon just fake laughed like a posh guy at a cocktail party in a black and white movie from the '50s and there wasn't meant to be any more to it. It's Pynchon! Who can tell?! He may have just wanted to reference more modern and specific media here! Like when Slothrop sees a newspaper spin around in the sky or turns into a comic book superhero. 

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 31 (122)

 "Oh, damme, I say, I didn't mean,—"

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 122 Vulgarized:
Mason, realizing his faux pas, apologizes with a swear.

Subtext:
Mason's probably not autistic. He's just overly enthusiastic about public executions and got caught up in the moment without realizing he was being a dick. It's how people learn to get along with people they've never really been around before. It's called growing and learning and having an open mind. He, like Dixon, knows they're going to be around each other a lot, probably in a lot of close quarter environments, and doesn't want to ruin their relationship before it's even gotten going. They both come across as good blokes, so far.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 30 (121)

 "Nooah, the first thing they'll ask is, 'Did thoo understand 'em the weeay theey talk, down theere...?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 121 Vulgarized:
"Actually, the first thing they'll ask is "Pip pip, cheerio! Wat ya say, guv? 'Ave a butchers! Apples and pears! Could ya even comprehend a thing the berk's say?!" Dixon says imitating Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.

Subtext:
Dixon hilariously mocks Mason's London accent as his "registering of annoyance." Instead of making a show of offense, Dixon simply mirrors Mason's behavior so that Mason can experience what he just did to Dixon.
    Yes, yes. I know he wasn't doing a Cockney accent. But I can't really tell what British accent he's doing with Pynchon's written version of it. Elongated vowel sounds? Maybe if I heard somebody speak this, I'd have an "A-ha!" moment of recognition. But there are so many accents in the United Kingdom and I'm not great at identifying them. It helps if I know famous people from the areas so that I know Rhod Gilbert's accent is Welsh and Ozzy Osbourne's accent is Brummie and John Lennon's accent is Scouse and all dwarves in fantasy films have a Scottish accent and all leprechauns in cereal commercials have Irish accents and Dick Van Dyke's Bert accent is aggravated Cockney. But there are so many more, like Posh and Geordie and Yorkshire and a whole bunch I can't remember or don't even know!

Chapter 3: Page 15: Lines 27-29 (118-120)

 Is it too many nights alone on top of that fam'd Hill in Greenwich? can this man, living in one of the great Cities of Christendom, not know how to behave around people?— Dixon decides to register only annoyance.

* * * * * * * * * *

Lines 118-120 Vulgarized:
"Has spending too many nights all by himself immersed in the grotesque spectacle of public executions rendered Mason, a man surrounded by other city folk, other professed Christians and urbane Londoners, unable to politely socialize with other people?" Dixon thinks while making a sour face at Mason's rude impression of Dixon's fellow country folk.

Subtext:
Mason might be autistic. He shows an almost obsessive joy concerning the public executions, believing everybody would (and should) enjoy the spectacle as much as he does. He also doesn't seem to register that his speech mimicking Durham County residents might come off as insulting, especially when speaking directly to a Durham County resident. He's doing an exaggerated accent in the face of a guy who is speaking in that accent.
    I don't mean to suggest that autistic people are rude! I don't think Mason is trying to be rude here at all, which is why the suggestion that he's autistic. Dixon's confusion about how somebody living in the city, living around people, might not understand social niceties strongly suggests that Mason doesn't think in the same way most folk might think.
    Rather than getting upset with Mason, Dixon just "decides to register only annoyance." This is a good move on Dixon's part, not turning what is probably an innocent slight into an argument. On the other hand, if Mason is autistic, he's almost certainly not going to register the register of annoyance.
    All in all, it's a first meeting and Dixon seems to handle Mason's initial eccentricities politely. Dixon, the more outgoing and extroverted of the two, realizes they're going to be working together for quite a while and decides to forgive Mason's social misstep here in the hopes of the two of them continuing to get along in the long run.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Lines 21-26 (112-117)

 Mason shrugging, palms up, "I'm serious. Worse than that, I'm sober. A man's first time in town, he simply can't miss a hanging. Come, Sir,— what's the first thing they'll ask when you get back to County Durham? Eh? 'Did ye see them rahde the Eeahr at Taahburn?' "

* * * * * * * * * *

Lines 112-117 Vulgarized:
Mason: "What? Really! I mean it! And I'm not even drunk! The first thing a tourist should do when visiting London is go see a public execution. What do you think the rubes back in Durham are going to ask you when you get back there? 'Yeehaw! Did y'all see 'em ride the air at Tyburn?!' "

Subtext:
Death is a spectacle and a cultural fascination, especially to an audience who thinks the person they're watching hang deserved to. A public execution celebrates punishment. It's an embrace of acting punitively, of vengeance attained. As I noted in the last entry, the tone is projected onto the scene by the viewer. A criminal being hanged is cause, for most of the public, to celebrate. It's a chance to revel in primal bloodlust. But if the same person celebrating the public hanging were to walk into a hotel room with a body hanging from the rafters, or find one of their loved ones hanging, death would suddenly not appear fascinating or amusing or celebratory. Death by public execution is irreal because the victim has been othered, becoming simply an object onto which justice is projected.

In a time when death was more visceral, and daily reminders were all around you, public executions might also seem comforting to the audience in that it's a way for humans to have some seeming control over it. Death can come at any time in any number of random ways. But what if we apply it, on schedule, to those whom we are keeping from possibly causing more death in the future by hanging them? Might that be some comfort? I wouldn't know because I live in the modern era where we deny our mortality for seventy to eighty years before truly grasping the reality that science isn't going to come up with a cure for death "just in the nick of time" for ourselves. It's possible that death became so abstract for Americans that many of them have decided killing other Americans isn't that big a deal. Because what is death other than a few points in a video game or a bunch of criminals shot in the face by various action movie stars?

Chapter 3: Page 15: Lines 19-20 (110-111)

 Taking it for the joke it must surely be, Dixon laughs, "Ha, ha, ha! Oh, thah's a bonny one, all right."

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 110 Vulgarized:
Dixon would be insane to think Mason was being serious and so laughs at the crazy idea of enjoying a hanging. "Ha, ha, ha! That's a pretty good joke!"

Subtext:
Our temperaments and our prejudices keep us from perceiving things in the way the thing is being presented. If the event or scene before an observer is natural and therefore neutral, they will project their own tone on it. It's like viewing an animal draped over the arm of a couch. Some might see it as bored, others as sulking, maybe even angry. But it's probably just resting and waiting for food, its posture suggesting no human emotion at all. As here, where Dixon, jovial and good-natured, cannot imagine somebody finding some kind of entertainment or spiritual solace in visiting a horrific event like a public hanging. And so he laughs at the idea.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 18 (109)

 "You must come out there with me, soon as we may."

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 109 Vulgarized:
"Come enjoy the spectacle of death with me next weekend!"

Subtext:
Mason's a little quick to project his fascination with death onto his new partner. He's acting a little bit too excited about these outings to public executions and if I were Dixon, I'd be wary of this guy. He's got a "There's more than a few corpses in my basement" vibe happening all of a sudden.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 17 (108)

 Mason has been shov'd about and borne along in riots of sailors attempting to wrest from bands of Medical Students the bodies of Shipmates come to grief ashore, too far from the safety of the Sea,— and he's had his Purse, as his Person, assaulted by Agents public and private,— yet, "There's nothing like it, it's London at its purest," he cries.

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 108 Vulgarized:
The place is always complete chaos. Mason is often stolen from and physically shoved about, by both the law and commoners. He's been caught up in mobs of people fighting over the deceased body, one side always medical students looking for another corpse to dissect, the other either shipmates of the hanged, or Christians trying to keep the body intact for the day of the Lord's judgment and resurrection. Despite of, or perhaps exactly because of, these things, Mason loves it and finds solace in the event, a microcosm of his London home.

Subtext:
I suppose Mason loves London more than I speculated earlier. I felt maybe he'd be uncomfortable in it but apparently he gains comfort from the utter chaos and close proximity of so many others. Perhaps what he is uncomfortable with is being in is his own skin, so he needs the outside stimulus to pull himself out of his own head. He needs the chaos to keep from diving too deeply into his inner self. The public hangings, the death, is the lure for him but once there, he feels comforted by the overwhelming sensory input provided by the crowd.
    Later we'll learn that Mason spent the entire week lost to the change in calendars by himself in some dark otherworldly space while everybody else simply chugged along as if nothing had happened. Perhaps that experience, the fear and the loneliness of that week, has caused him to embrace being around so many others. If he is in close contact with others, no matter how chaotic or violent, it means, maybe, that he won't slip away into a world of his own, and possibly lost there for eternity.
    Whatever the case, Mason either really loves London or he really loves public hangings!

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 16 (107)

 Mason explains, though without his precise reason for it, that, for the past Year or more, it has been his practice to attend the Friday Hangings at that melancholy place, where he was soon chatting up Hangmen and their 'Prentices, whilst standing them pints at their Local, The Bridport Dagger, acquiring thus a certain grisly intimacy with the Art.

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 107 Vulgarized:
Mason just met Dixon so he's not willing to bare every dark, depressed, macabre recess of his soul to him but he does open up about how something in him has been drawing him to Tyburn every weekend for the last year for the hangings where, afterward, he would wind up in the local pub buying drinks for the executioner and his apprentices who would, in turn, tell him all about their lives as hangmen, and the morbid stories they've gathered because of it.

Subtext:
Mason is obsessed with his mortality and eventual death. Maybe he doesn't quite know it himself yet. Maybe holding back "his precise reason" for attending the public hangings isn't purposeful but inevitable in that he doesn't exactly understand why. But he's definitely dark and depressed, the original Harold or an early modern goth.

A Bridport Dagger is a gallows term for the hangman's noose. So naming the local Tyburn pub "The Bridport Dagger" is pretty much a hat on a hat.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 15 (106)

 "Alluring out there, is it?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 106 Vulgarized:
"Pretty gruesome, eh?"

Subtext:
Dixon would know, even being from the country, why Tyburn was famous so he's definitely being ironic here. At least in the context of their little dark humor banter. Because he'd also know that the public hangings were about the most alluring thing to the public, drawing huge crowds and generally creating a holiday atmosphere at every drop. So his comment is probably dripping with facetiousness and also judgment, both joking about it being an absolute must place to visit and also how terrible the fact that it has actually become that.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 14 (105)

 "You'd appreciate Wapping High Street, then, — and, and Tyburn, of course! put that on your list."

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 105 Vulgarized:
"If you really like violence and gore, you should head down to Wapping High Street or Tyburn!"

Subtext:
Basically the shorthand for capital punishment was simply invoking Tyburn, made famous for hosting public executions for several centuries. Wapping also had its share of public executions being that it had an "Execution Dock" to hang pirates.

I felt like Dixon was being a bit sarcastic with his critique about how hard it was to get in a fight back in Bishop. Mason might have thought that too and so just continues the banter about the violence of London or, possibly, he takes him at face value and so suggests some violent tourist attractions. I like to think Mason isn't so naïve as to be suggesting these places earnestly and he's just having a bit of fun, as Dixon is, with how horribly violent the city can be. A bit of dark humor bonding the pair on their first meeting.

Chapter 3: Page 15: Line 13 (104)

 "Just so,— why, back in Bishop, it might take half the night to find an excuse to clash someone i' the Face, whilst in London, 'tis the Paradise of the Quarrelsome, for fair...?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Line 104 Vulgarized:
"Back home, you'd have to walk around for four or five hours before finding some piddling excuse to punch a guy in the head. For those prone to violence, London, where everybody gives you an excuse to smack them in the face, it must be heaven, no?"

Subtext:
If you love punching people in the throat because they looked at you funny, you should move to the big city. Also, if you love looking at people funny, maybe move to the country.

Chapter 3: Page 14: Lines 11-12 (102-103)

 "Oh, one may, if one wishes, find Insult at ev'ry step,— from insolent Stares to mortal Assault, an Orgy of Insult uninterrupted,— yet how does one proceed to call out each offender in turn, or choose among 'em, and in obedience to what code? So, one soon understands it, as yet another Term in the Contract between the City and oneself,— a function of simple Destiny, ensuring that there never be time enough to acknowledge, let alone to resent, such a mad Variety of offer'd Offense."

* * * * * * * * * *

Lines 102-103 Vulgarized:
"Sure, people in the city suck. But what can you do? There isn't enough time in the day to react to every offence, and even if you tried, by what system could you manage it? Once realizing that you simply don't have time to pursue consolation for every insult, you learn to live with it as part of life in the city."

Subtext:
Mason doesn't have the imagination to become The Batman. Batman doesn't seem to have a hard time picking and choosing who needs to have their asses beat. And he keeps a strict obedience to his code which is to injure and maim and bring to as close to death as possible anybody committing any crime for any reason, whether that reason be evil intent, mental illness, or crushing poverty. They all get the same fist in the face. That's Batman's Contract between him and Gotham (which really fits the description of "a mad Variety of offer'd Offense").

Chapter 3: Page 14: Lines 7-10 (98-101)

 "Eeh! Fellow was spitting at my Shoes...? Another pushing folk one by one into the Gutters, some of them quite dangerous to look at'...? How can Yese dwell thah' closely together, Day upon Day, without all growing Murderous?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Lines 98-101 Vulgarized:
"Shit! Some dude spit on me? And some other guy was shoving people into the street, people who looked quite capable of random violence themselves? How the hell can y'all live rubbing up on each other all the time without just wanting to kill somebody?"

Subtext:
Dixon probably killed a guy for spitting on his shoes. But then, what city dweller hasn't? Dixon reaches the conclusion that people manage to live in cities without becoming murderous when he should reach the conclusion that those of us living in cities have all committed hundreds and hundreds of murders, even if they were all in our heads and usually about somebody ahead of us in a queue being a complete and utterly disrespectful, entitled asshole to the barista. I was going to say "clerk" but what am I? A small town rural who "shops"?! Ninety-five percent of my daily human interactions are with a caffeine supplier. What I'm saying, aside from the confession that I need to buy a coffee maker, is that to "become murderous" one does not have to physically commit murder. Imagining the blowhard honking his horn at the car in front of him as that car waits for pedestrians to cross immediately crashing into a lamppost and smashing his brains out on the inside of the windshield after angrily peeling out when the traffic begins to move can absolutely be considered "murderous."