An unauthorized chapbook of Thomas Pynchon's essay "A Journey Into the Mind of Watts" which was originally published in the New York Times Magazine, June 12, 1966.
The essay is Pynchon's psycho-geographical exploration of Watts and Los Angeles after the 1965 Watts Riots/Rebellion.
Thomas Ruggles Pynchon Jr. is an American novelist noted for his dense and complex novels. His fiction and nonfiction writings encompass a vast array of subject matter, genres and themes, including history, music, science, and mathematics. For Gravity's Rainbow, Pynchon won the 1973 U.S. National Book Award for Fiction.
Hailing from Long Island, Pynchon served two years in the United States Navy and earned an English degree from Cornell University. After publishing several short stories in the late 1950s and early 1960s, he began composing the novels for which he is best known: V. (1963), The Crying of Lot 49 (1966), and Gravity's Rainbow (1973). Rumors of a historical novel about Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon had circulated as early as the 1980s; the novel, Mason & Dixon, was published in 1997 to critical acclaim. His 2009 novel Inherent Vice was adapted into a feature film by Paul Thomas Anderson in 2014. Pynchon is notoriously reclusive from the media; few photographs of him have been published, and rumors about his location and identity have circulated since the 1960s. Pynchon's most recent novel, Bleeding Edge, was published on September 17, 2013.
I took a break in my revisit to Pynchonland to find and re-read this stray bit of work, the man's only detour (as far as we know) into journalism, written for the New York Times Magazine a year after the Watts riots. It's not one of Pynchon's great works but is worth tracking down, if only as a coda to the recurring themes of race in his early books. And, of course, even 50 years on, there is insight here into the walls we build in our big cities and a cause for sad reflection on how little some things have changed.
This essay offers an uncommonly empathetic glimpse into the aftermath of the 1965 Watts Riots, managing to convey the complexity of race relations without making the discussion feel abstract or unreachable. Despite being written in the mid-1960s, its insights into systemic inequality and human nature remain strikingly relevant, laying bare the shared humanity on all sides.
What stands out most is the clarity with which it explains why different communities turn to different coping mechanisms—ranging from alcohol to hallucinogens—and how each one emerges from its own cultural and social pressures. Another gripping observation involves the mentality of the younger, less experienced police officer, forced to prove himself within a larger power structure. The essay never feels reductive or moralizing; instead, it gently untangles a knot of historical tensions and personal motivations, leaving the reader both enlightened and unsettled.
Given its nuance and accessible style, this piece seems essential for anyone interested in understanding the human realities behind major social upheavals. It is timeless in its empathy and honesty, reminding us that behind every social conflict lies a host of individual stories, layered experiences, and hard-to-break cycles of power and fear.
"'But why?' asked one white lady volunteer. 'There are so many agencies now that you can go to, that can help you, if you'll only file your complaint.'
'They don't help you.' This particular kid had been put down trying to get a job with one of the larger defense contractors.
'Maybe not before. But it's different now.'
'Now,' the kid sighed, 'now. See, people been hearing that 'now' for a long time, and I'm just tired of The Man telling you, ''Now it's OK, now we mean what we say.''
In Watts, apparently, where no one can afford the luxury of illusion, there is little reason to believe that now will be any different, any better than last time."