When [future writer of Pynchon gossip/criticism (and erotic novels*) Jules] Siegel brought his friend [counterculture Shakespeare and writer of the American Ulysses] Thomas Pynchon up to [schizoeffective Hollywood Mozart and writer of a "teenage symphony to God" Brian Wilson's] house one night, the famous hipster novelist sat in stunned, unhappy silence while the nervous, stoned pop star—who had dragged him into his then-new Arabian tent to get high—kept kicking over the oil lamp he was trying to light. 'Brian was kind of afraid of Pynchon, because he'd heard he was an Eastern intellectual establishment genius,' Siegel recalls. 'And Pynchon wasn't very articulate. He was gonna sit there and let you talk while he listened. So neither of them really said a word all night long. It was one of the strangest scenes I'd ever seen in my life.'
(excerpted from a book by Peter Ames Carlin†)
† Pictured below.