Questions about Dirk Gently:Long Dark Tea Time of the Soul (spoilers wanted)

No worries, U.R.T. Just having you kind folks taking the time to read through all my nonsense and then give a thoughtful response means a lot to me. And even if I don’t agree, having to think about why I don’t agree helps me sort out my ideas.

Thanks for the response, Yllaria. Lot of good stuff to think about there. Something about the way you phrased it helps me lean toward the idea that she was just sticking to her guns, and saying “whether you think the answers right or not, you have to give it to me”, and Thor finally (off screen) giving in and telling her.

Also, I’d always imagined him saying “I wasn’t going to count them again! Think!” in a very short, angry, Thor-like way. After your post, thought of him delivering it in a more broad, sit-com kinda style, drawing out the agaaiiinn in a humorous way. And also the somewhat amusing idea of Thor telling someone else to think. Not sure it totally fits his character, but maybe DA had been watching too many sitcoms and decided to give it a whirl.

I see what you’re saying about the airlock, and if he hadn’t revealed the punch line (that he’d actually lost count) the first time, I don’t think I would have thought twice about it. In fact, might have been wondering all the time between the two conversations how it came out, building even more anticipation before the funny let-down. But it seemed more like telling the exact same joke twice with no changes, which is why I thought the point must be something besides just getting a laugh.

I’ve re-read the parts with Kate and Thor numerous times, and skimmed through the pages between the two mentions of the count. Since I’m determined to try to put the question that’s been nagging me to rest once and for all, I actually just started re-reading the whole thing again from page 1 last night.

Think I’d got it into my head that Dirk was just ‘sensitive’ to psychic impressions, and also willing to let them guide his investigations without being impeded by things like ‘logic’ and ‘common sense’. I’d forgotten the whole fortune telling bit at the beginning. I was amazed at just how much of the story was predicted in what seemed like just those little throw-away bits at the start.

He gives the pilots wife his formal predictions, then when it turns out they’re all horribly true in ways he didn’t intend them, he seems to get flustered and just babble a bunch of vague reassuring things that are all also exact predictions of the books ending. And even Kate’s ranting description of all the seemingly inconsequential, troublesome little details involved in getting ready to go away on a trip have a lot of clues to events and relationships.

Unfortunately, also discovered that the anecdote about the deep significance of there being only one banana in each bowl actually comes from this very book. But since it sounds like even Adams forgot why he put them there, don’t think I’m going to lose sleep over that one the same way. Might be fun to make up some reasons, but more in the spirit of the answers to “Why is a raven like a writing desk.” (which I just googled to make sure I had the details right, and the first result that came up is below. This site is awesome. Saved me a lot of typing too.)

One thing that came to mind is that Kate and Thor’s fruit bowls each have one lone banana in the public hospital, and then there’s a description later of how Odin’s fruit bowl is always kept full of fresh fruit and flowers, even though he never eats any. So maybe some kind of point about the difference between public and private care? But again, doesn’t seem like enough to get too excited over. (maybe a reference to the Kennedy assassination, the lone banana theory)

Finally, one other little reference from the beginning of the book, that may have influenced my thinking about how a god like Thor would approach a Great Labor, is an off-hand mention of the way Hercules cleaned out the Aegean Stables in a single day by ripping two sides off and diverting a river through them. Kind of thing that makes me wonder if Wales had recently experienced massive flooding around the time the book was written.

Anyway, with these questions now firmly in the front of my mind, hoping one more thorough read-through will reveal any other subtle clues I missed. Thanks again for listening.

That’s entirely plausible. There obviously had been a count that he gave to Odin. And she is stubborn enough.

Hello,

I agree. There must be some hidden answer to the ending of the long dark teatime for the soul. What does Kate tell Thor to solve their predicament and resolve the entire book? I know it is in there somewhere, and may have something to do with all the stone counting. I just am not smart enough to see the clues to what actually happened at the ending. Can anyone please help?

You’re right, this is the one with Kate (transplanted American) having an ongoing problem with lack of pizza delivery in London and the wandering vending machine (with an interesting connection to Dirk).

Heh, I’ve never figured out who Toerag actually is. (I assumed “Loki” at some point but can’t see/have missed the link.)

Love the book though.
I too think that there was not much deeper meaning to the stones, other than it being a Herculean (Thorean?) task, with the shameful secret of losing count, never admitted (until he told Kate). A good motive for guilt/annoyance!

This is not really hidden, (unless ‘in plain sight’,) and the stone counting is just Kate’s price for what she tells Thor:

“Have your father offer his entire estate to the Woods’ Head in exchange for a contract of lifetime care.”

The idea is that the Woods’ Head administrators will be so greedy that they’d jump at this opportunity, sight unseen as to the estate, because Odin was so obviously living in luxury and had no problems making regular payments. However, his source for turning his Godly power into mortal funds (the lawyer and the chick with the glasses,) had backed out, making Odin penniless, and in any event, ‘lifetime care’ for an immortal god means perpetual care with no payout at the end. :smiley:

But is he still immortal, since he’s given up his soul? The way I understand it, he didn’t get his soul back. Dirk just predicted that those two would die, and we were shown by the old lady in Norway that gods can die from trauma (else threatening to kill herself with a knife would have no meaning). Is the assumption that their death gives Odin back his soul? He sure doesn’t seem like an immortal–he’s much more confused than he was before at the end.

Counting things as a punishment has folkloric roots. Seeds or grains of rice were scattered around the graves of both Chinese and European vampires, and they were required to count them before heading off to feed on the blood of the living.
From wiki

Maybe Mr Adams was watching Mr Vampire while writing the book and just incorporated the idea

While Toerag is a Loki-like minor trickster, I think Thor would still call him Loki, especially when they’re alone. I got the impression he was just an opportunistic imp that got his hooks in Odin by figuring out how to give him something he wanted.

Found this definition of toerag on Urban Dictionary - fits with the idea that he could be just some kind of despised Norse hanger-on playing a slippery, dangerous game that gets him in with the gods:

"Obsolete British insult: a toerag is a piece of cloth worn on the foot under the boot to substitute a sock, especially in winter, and by vagrants. Something that is squalid and disgusting; by extension, a bum, vagrant or tramp. "

Also, hadn’t really considered Thor’s secret of not being sure of his stones answer in relation to the Guilt God angle. Kinda fits with the timing, because I think it’s immediately after the curtain comes down on the final Kate/Thor stones confrontation that the “newly spawned guilt god” is discovered (going on memory, think I must have boxed up the books to stop thinking about 'em for a while after I had reached a relative peace on the nagging question).

I’d always assumed the Guilt God was born out of Dirk’s festering fridge alone, but perhaps it was the product of an unholy union between the fridge and the doubt and guilt troubling Thor over the stone count coming together. So by “getting it out of” Thor, Kate released his tension, allowed the Guilt God to be born and make an end of Toerag and the Green-Eyed Monster.

Also just thought of a parallel between Thor’s dealings with the stones question and the stages of grief (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance). I’m guessing his grief about the gods losing their place and status in the world - or at least his grief at losing his count during the long boring task:
Denial: I’m not telling (implying he does have the answer) Confused and clouded.
Anger: Not going to count them again! Raging to clear his head.
Bargaining: Give up the count/admit it’s possibly wrong/work out the bargain with the lawyers somehow to get everything back the way it was
Depression: The “Blast everything” brief low point where there seems no solution.
Acceptance: Odin “surrenders” his estate, Thor and the rest seem to settle into a comfortable relationship with the new way of things (helped by the lawyers and Toerag being eliminated, of course)

Curious to see if any of the text directly contradicts this, but definitely the most interesting idea so far, to me. Makes more sense for the Deus-Ex-Refridgera at the end to be tied into a more over-arcing theme in the story, and not just a random result of Dirk’s moldy kitchen appliance. Also raises ideas about the gods - Thor said they were created because people believed in them, and formed to resemble their beliefs. But shouldn’t a god have something to do with the birth of another god? Perhaps especially if the gods were in the process of becoming more like man after they were no longer wanted?

Interesting stuff.

I’m not completely clear on if Odin gave up his soul literally, or if that was a figure of speech that the other gods used to describe the way he sold out on their power. It seems to me that Odin acts as if he expects to live forever after he’s at the Woodshead. But if he did literally give up his soul, then I think that the Draycotts gave it back:

(Page number taken from my Pan Books paperback copy.)

I read that as Mr. Draycott cancelling the arrangement with Odin effective immediately; Odin gets his power back, (and his soul, if that was on the deal,) but he’s ineffective at actually using it to get what he wants in the modern world. The Draycotts and their friends keep all the mortal wealth and influence they’ve been able to accumulate using Odin’s power, and they’re no longer on the hook for the Woodshead. Of course, they didn’t expect to die, and really they were just random bystanders killed as a consequence of Thor restoring the fighter pilot - except that all things are interconnected in Dirk Gently’s world. :wink:

It wasn’t losing his soul that made Odin confused and helpless in the modern world - if anything it was his very godhood and immortality. As Thor said, the gods were as humanity wished them to be, forever, (and possibly by extension, consistent.) Then humanity changed too quickly for the gods to adapt. It’s pretty clear from the Mister Draycott’s story, the parts I skipped over, that Odin was just as confused when he first met them, before they’d made a deal.

When you said that Dirk predicted that they would die, did you mean that line I quoted, ‘Just to see you dead’? Because I didn’t interpret that as a prediction so much as a heartfelt wish. :slight_smile:

Not sure they said he gave up his soul, just his godly power. Thor said gods can die, but “it takes a special effort”, implying they have to totally give up the will to live and will themselves to die, and even then it takes a long time.

The old lady (Tsuliwaensis) may be able to kill herself (possibly with the knife), but while she is depressed about the state of the gods and the state of the god’s world as it reflects the world of man, to me a lot of that came off as a kind of passive-aggressive bluff (and also a guilt trip, to pick up the guilt theme), where she was saying, “Don’t mind me, I’ll just throw my self at the wall and die on this knife. Won’t be a bother to anyone. No, don’t bother coming to see an old woman living all alone, it’s fine, I’ll just kill myself. Been meaning to anyway, so it’s no bother…”

So while it’s possible Odin is in the process of dying from the onx, lying down (on crisp fine linen) until a tree grows out of his head and he turns into a water spout, or even that he has somehow signed away his immortality in return for his stay at Woodshead, I think the implication is that he’ll live a fairly long time, if not forever, and in any case not be bothered by bills again until he has finally tired of the world forever.

And in a twist of poetic justice, if Woodshead can collect on their contract, the actions of man have made the gods domain such a twisted barren place that they’ll be glad to see it go, and all Woodshead will receive is a world-sized toxic superfund site full of Guilt Gods and gnats.

Tsuli opines that things not taken care of in our world become terrible gods or gnats in her world, and says that there are far more gnats that terrible gods these days. Could be that she’s referring to the petty nature of the modern world, or it could be that the truly great “terrible god” problems spring mostly from the interaction of the gods and man on earth, and since the gods are now less active on earth and don’t interact much with men, they are now less frequent, until Thor is made to go to Earth and count stones in Wales, and his problems returning home cause him to interact with man?

Ah, at last. Yes, I think it’s all coming together for me. Kate doesn’t just get Thor to admit he lost count, (which is nothing new to her) she gets him to admit it in front of his father, Odin, who had given him the task. So it has the combined effect of exposing his guilt so he can get rid of it, and of her getting him back for his rough treatment of her by getting him in trouble with his father.

And I started seeing some interesting parallels between the yuppie/lawyer couple and the Green-eyed Monster and Toerag. I think GEM and Toerag were born into the god’s world as a result of Clive and Cynthia Draycott existing in our world. He’s the tricky little conniving guy, upwardly mobile, trying to scam his way into the big-time. And she works in advertising, the green-eyed monster, creator of created by envy.

At the end of the book both pairs are travelling in a vehicle, and both are killed by something tied to guilt and Dirk Gently “erupting” (same word used for each, the jet erupting into the street from his apartment, and the Guilt God erupting from his old refrigerator, last seen just outside his apartment on the street)

Sometimes the interconnectedness of all things is just crazy.

I did indeed. I’m sure that’s what he meant it as, but all of his predictions always seem to come when he’s not intending to actually predict something. I think that, if the story went on a bit longer, Dirk would have found out about their death, realized that he predicted it, and be all angsty about it. Well, if he has time to, since he’ll also be stressing out about his sudden lack of housing.

It’s also a great way to tie everything together, without it just being yet another coincidence. If it weren’t for the way they died, I’d assume it was one of the clauses Toe Rag put in, making sure that, as soon as they were mortal, (which is a nice interpretation of what happened) they would die.

If there is a correlation between our world and the world of the gods, I’d expect what happened to the humans to have been reflected in the other world. Both died because of something that had been in Dirk’s house.

All of this comes from my interpretation that the “interconnectedness of all things” only happens because Dirk predicts it to happen. It wouldn’t work for any other person. Otherwise Dirk wouldn’t be the only one this stuff happens to.

I really appreciated Whaleo’s thoughts, I actually was trying desperately to find an open discussion on this book, as I have already posthumosly lurked all the alt-fan.douglas.adams group without finding answers to my questions.
I should actually re-read for the fourth time the book in order to remember all the points that I still couldn’t grasp, but one in particular strikes so hard me that I eventually found on Facebook the author of a post on the usenet group made like 15 years ago in order to discover if she still remembered (unfortunately she didn’t completely) what she meant to say.

The issue is: the boy in the attic.

Many said it is just a humorous non-sequitur, with maybe some social mockery on how television makes people insane. But I strongly believed there was much more and actually in EVERY DNA book I read, NOTHING was present just for humour, especially the Dirk Gently ones. I LOVE how he manages to close all the loops previously opened, although I agree with many of you that he commonly did this too in a hurry - probably because of the deadlines, I also agree.
So, in this usenet post, this clever girl instead of answering to the question: what the heck is this boy, suggested to remember the name of the Anstey group, which is Pugilism and the Third Autistic Cuckoo.
My guess is that the boy could then be the Third (together with Pain and Anstey?)Autistic (routinary, tv-only etc.) Cuckoo (both for mad AND because he lives in the attic?), and the pugilism should justify his ability in breaking Dirk’s nose with a very single punch.
But, even if this was correct (which I am not sure of), did this boy appeared as a consequence of a contract? Or is it the corresponding event to something appeared in Asgard (I LOVE Whaleo’s assumption of the Draycott being the human corresponding of Toe Rag and the Green Monster, which makes LOTS of sense now for me)?

Do you want to share your thought on this?

I find it interesting that folks are tying the God of Guilt to Thor and his guilt over the stone count. I had always just assumed that events had coalesced to form a new god and that a God of Guilt fit the tenor of our times. Gods are supposed to be created from the minds of humans after all.

I had also taken the boy in the attic in sort of the same way. Here we have a contract with the gods, which in past times would have been used to make marvels, at least according to the old stories. Only now it’s used to get:

  • a well planned and comfortable life income,
  • a best seller or two,
  • other entertainment business deals, and finally
  • a hit record.

And the people who receive these gifts do not necessarily derive any lasting benefit from them. Anstey in particular, which is fitting since he is the one left holding the hot potato. Dirk describes his house as “Thoul-leth”*

How is that soul-lessness to be shown? We have a physical description of the house, a description of Anstey’s record collection, and Dirk’s pronouncement. That’s not much. Unless we add in the boy, who is extremely disconnected from the world (one kind of souless) and who has been driven out of the main part of the house and is living up in the attic, as far from the center as possible (leaving the center of the home with no living soul in it).

I came away with a sense that there was a modern kind of dysfunction and disconnection that created a void that not even the power of a god could fill.

  • soul-less (he’s trying to talk around a broken nose)

I’m starting to feel like I’m back in high school English class, over-analyzing a book to death and sucking all the actual entertainment out of it.

Yeah. Sometimes a suffusion of yellow is just a suffusion of yellow.

Wall I’m not English, so i never over-analyzed any book:) For this one the first reading was pure entertainment (it was also one of the first I’ve read in English), and then something remained unanswered pushing the second reading etc. Same happened in the Holistic Agency and I was so surprised that almost all the details apparently placed just for fun actually were connected so smartly. I’ve also bought the Italian edition to see if reading it in my mother tongue could provide details or concepts lost because of my poor English, but it didn’t help.
So, glad of you could be of service

With apologies to Isaac Asimov for tweaking the quote:

Dissecting a book is like dissecting a cat. At the end, it’s dead, and maybe you’ve learned something. :smiley: