Next thing I know it’ll turn out that St James’s really was eaten by a giant adenoid

Sunday 30 September 2007

Mrs. Quoad offering a tin of that least believable of English coughdrops, the Meggezone…
The Meggezone is like being belted in the head with a Swiss Alp. Menthol icicles immediately begin to grow from the roof of Slothrop’s mouth. Polar bears seek toenail-holds up the freezing frosty-grape alveolar clusters in his lungs. It hurts his teeth too much to breathe, even through his nose, even, necktie loosened, with his nose down inside the neck of his olive-drab T-shirt. Benzoin vapors seep into his brain. His head floats in a halo of ice.
Even an hour later, the Meggezone still lingers, a mint ghost in the air…
Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow, pp.118.
  1. Well spotted. You, never? Did the Kenosha Kid?

  2. It's in Brockley Road SE4, next to the church on the corner of Wickham Road.

    I usually manage to arrive in foreign towns on the day they're having some big festival, so I expect my next trip to Germany will find me face-to-snout with Plechazunga.

  3. For what it may be worth, this exact quote is used as the vocal material for a neat little piece of extended solo music for tuba, aptly titled "Solo Tuba Music", by Cort Lippe. I always wondered what that was about…

  4. OK, I need to hear this record right now. Especially if it's spoken in a Hungarian accent, like that Hungaroton recording of Rzewski's Coming Together.