A WOW book! Come on U guys! Grant it, Alan did a good job... but a WOW book? No way! If this book makes you say WOW... (Sigh) Guys, then you need to get a life! Put the book down and go out and smell the roses. Life is waiting for you.
A book like this shouldn't make you say, wow with capital letters, "life" should.

I agree with Helena..."not a WOW book."

Alan Brownlie book or volume, Subjectivity and Problems of Knowing, is Excellent! I agreed with the two other gentlemen, this book is a MUST if you are a serious student of Thomas Pynchon. This book is a worthy addition to any library.
WOW, meaning a knockout; hit; great achievement and masterstroke.

This book is a masterstroke!

I have to agree with Mr. Weinberg's review of this volume.
As a serious student of both Pynchon and the philosophy of science, I feel Mr Brownlie's book is a breath of fresh air. Rarely have I encountered a writer with such breadth of knowledge combined with the courage to take on established views.

Conspiracy buffs, look no further than "The Crying of Lot 49" -- a book that indulges in paranoia so much, you almost expect to see your own name mentioned somewhere in the text. There is an incredible amount of narrative inventiveness on every page, employing a wild concoction of dry humor, non sequiturs, bizarre characters with puns for names, and an endless barrage of references to a wide variety of pop culture, science, and technology. This is the first novel I've read that has introduced the concept of entropy as a narrative device.

The protagonist is a woman named Oedipa Maas who, when the novel begins, learns that her former boyfriend, the wealthy Pierce Inverarity, has died and designated her to be the executor of his enormous estate. Inverarity's assets include vast stretches of property, a significant stamp collection, and many shares in an aerospace corporation called Yoyodyne. As Oedipa goes through her late boyfriend's will, aided by a lawyer named Metzger who works for Inverarity's law firm, she learns about a series of secret societies and strange groups of people involved in a sort of renegade postal system called Tristero. She starts seeing ubiquitous cryptic diagrams of a simple horn, a symbol with a seemingly infinite number of meanings. Every clue she uncovers about Tristero and the horn leads haphazardly to another, like a brainstorm, or a free association of ideas.

This is a novel that demands analysis but defies explanation. My initial interpretation was that it's an anarchistic satire of the military-industrial-government complex, but it's deeper than that. Like Vladimir Nabokov's "Pale Fire," it establishes a very complicated relationship between the author and the reader, where Pynchon seems to be tricking the reader in the same way that Oedipa is unsure if she is witnessing a worldwide conspiracy or if she is merely the victim of an elaborate prank. By presenting Oedipa's investigation to be either circular, aimless, or inconsequential, the novel seems to satirize the efforts of people who try to find order in the universe. Pynchon uses the concept of entropy to illustrate that the more effort (physical and mental) we put into controlling the universe, the more random it becomes.

Through the use of deep reflection and mind-altering substances, I came to a Zen-like understanding of this book and used that understanding to write a brilliant paper on it. My knowledge of "The Crying of Lot 49" is infinite and all encompassing. Although Pynchon dismisses this book in his introduction to "Slow Learner" and critics have said that this book does not compare to either "V" or "Gravity's Rainbow", it is still a definitive postmodern text and far easier to read than a text like "Rainbow". Thanks to the short length and linear plot, readers should not have the same problems with "Lot 49" they may have had with "Gravity's Rainbow". The apparent readability of this text belies its complex nature, however. Through his use of dense language, intricate symbiotics, and an ambiguity on the plot level, Pynchon articulates a multiplicity of meaning that allows an incredibly diverse array of textual interpretations. When the main character, Oedipa Maas, wonders, "Shall I project a world?" she speaks for anyone who has attempted to sort through this novel. For any reader looking for a challenging and thought-provoking book who does not want to sort through 760 pages of "Gravity's Rainbow" I would highly recommend this book.

This is Pynchon's most accessible text. It's funny, it's interesting, and the plot borders on surrealism. From the outset, the puns tickle the reader, and the situations Pynchon describes are absolutely charming.

But what's amazing about this book is the way it comes together. In the middle of the book, I started thinking that this was just a book of eclectic symbols and a bad plot, but towards the end, the symbols start interweaving in amazing ways. Different experiences that Oedipa has suddenly fit together into a dazzling symbolic puzzle; philosophical tangents based on each key scene in the novel all come together in Oedipa's intense struggle to find the Real Thing, to decode the message inscribed in the enduring image of the printed-circuit urban planning of Los Angeles.

Each character in the story seeks the real thing in his or her own way, and Oedipa almost succeeds. In the end, her random encounters with the Trystero come together, but she'll never know whether the unity of her experiences symbolizes any real coherent meaning, or whether it's all a cruel joke.

Just a fantastic, enjoyable quick read that culminates in a glowing, mysterious, enigmatic feeling of narrative triumph: the triumphant fitting together of Pynchon's symbolic order. A subtle look at the fragmentation of American culture, a charming book about the very human Oedipa, a haunting reflection on the struggle for meaning.

The Companion essentially functions as a long annotation for references in the Crying of Lot 49. It does most allusions justice, although we may never know the extent to which Pynchon envisioned his worlds. As an explanation of references, the Companion is quite succesful but it does not entirely meet its expectations as a companion because it lacks any sort of thematic or liteary analysis. It is essentially a reference for reading Pynchon and not a companion per se. Utterly useless as an overarching thematic reading of Pynchon, A Companion to the Crying of Lot 49 should not go underappreciated in its the ability to explain Pynchon's allusions. This book may turn out to be extremely useful or utterly useless, and perhaps both.

Grant's companion was very helpful in explaining contexts and allusions. It seemed to, however, miss a lot about the novel, especially Pynchon's dealing with the drug culture of the 60's. Its a solid companion that explains most modern critical interpretations of Pynchon, but such a great novel deserves better

This little book written to provide insight into the myriad of Pynchon's obscure references and symbolic appellations in The Crying of Lot 49 is a worthwhile source of help if used with discretion and common sense. Although many of Grant's entries are useful to untangle some of Pynchon's more obscure references, others will simply lead you further down the path of confusion. The problem lies in the fact that while many of Grant's suggestions are useful, others simply bring about the same type of confusion that he is trying to address, since he often gives more than one possible explanation for each passage discussed. That is not to say that the book is not useful, it is, only that The Crying of Lot 49 by its very nature resists such means of explanation. But as reader of Pynchon already know, any help is welcome. As long as the reader keeps in mind that this book is meant only to introduce "possible meanings" and "complimentary facts", which may or may not correspond to what Pynchon actually has hidden in his words. Nonetheless a good source of info and a help to anyone exasperated by the twisting and turning of Pynchon's view of the postmodern world.

This novel arcs across modernism to give the coup de gras to the first 75 years of the 20th century. It is the black instrument of American fiction, a novel that explores the space between reality and its projected image. Man serves technology to reach his inevitable end. Death is an aphrodisiac. We anticipate death falling from the sky. Reality is the land and the dream is the landscape.

Pynchon shows us what lies beneath the surface, a depth of half a millimeter below the skin, everyone's true face, by way of sexual indulgence, paranoia, oneiric fantod, pigs, antibiotics, and rockets.

This book is challenging, but not impossible. For those who don't pursue literary analysis it might be the novel to initiate such interest. More than a singular novel to be read and put aside, Gravity's Rainbow is a doorway into the deepest wellsprings of fiction's capabilities, and by that route the human imagination. Reading it is an encompassing experience, and like anything that is prodigious, understanding it and appreciating it take work. One can't read one book and become a doctor, and because Pynchon's ideas are referenced from physics, chemistry, history, anthropology, sociology, psychology, sadomasochism, Porky Pig cartoons, and strange candy, reading a bunch of science fiction novels does not prepare one for it. Delving into the vast sea of human knowledge, as Pynchon has done, will benefit the reader, within the novel and outside the novel. Gravity's Rainbow can lead you on an adventure through the great body of human knowledge, but you have to want to go there. If you don't seek knowledge, and aren't willing to go to the far reaches of knowledge that this book can take you, then you don't want to understand it, and create a self-fulfilling prophecy.

1. The opening words. " A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now." As openings go, this is way up there. Straight into the action. Physically. Emotionally. At the centre of the Blitz. London. Second World War. V2 rockets pounding the city. The Crystal Palace crashing down. The fact that this may not actually be the Blitz but a character dreaming it, a character whose contribution to the war effort is to dream the fantasies of his superiors thus making them manageable, sets the novel up perfectly. And you may know already if this novel is for you.
2. Everyone loves a conspiracy theory, right? Well, this novel is crammed full of them. Just count how many times Pynchon uses the word 'paranoia'.
3. Just the sheer quality of the writing. No other writer has left me as dazed and staggered. Try sentences like...Well, on reflection it's never a single sentence; it's a real cumulative effect and has an almost hypnotic quality. You may very well just have to read it yourself...
4.For the story. Or rather the stories. Someone somewhere has counted that there are over 160 plots and sub-plots in 'Gravity's Rainbow'. I was too busy enjoying the trip to count but I can believe it, the pace is breathless. Just don't expect a linear narrative. Or an ending that makes everything clear. That is not Pynchon's intention. Just roll with the punches. And enjoy the ride.
5. Because you will want cause and effect. Because Thomas Pynchon says this. And then says, All right. And then frustrates by all possible means this actually happening for the reader. The centrepiece of this is the symbolic shattering of the V2 rocket once it hits its destination and the central 'character', Tyrone Slothrop ('sloth or entropy'? )anticipating the rocket hits with each of his sexual encounters in London as a GI. From which the story springs. Or stories spring. Or ultimately disintegrate.
6. You will want to read it and re-read it. I have read it twice now and I know I will read it again.Whan I first read Pynchon I was dazzled in a way that only the greatest literature can achieve. I am not exagerating when I say my first encounter with Pynchon was akin to that exhiliration on first reading Proust. Or James Joyce's 'Ulysses'. Or looking in awe and, it must be said, confusion at 'Finnegans Wake'. Yes, we're talking Literary Heavyweights here.
7. But don't let that put you off. This book is also funny. Pynchon does slapstick better than any other 'serious' writer. And his puns are invariably terrible.
8. Because like all great literature, this doesn't date. Yes, it is set at the end of the Second World War but its themes and concerns are universal. " Could he have been the fork in the road America never took, the singular point she jumped the wrong way from? ". Pynchon comes back to explore this in 'Vineland'. A moment in history when things could change for the better but instead are invariably frustrated by Cartels or secret societies or both. Or shadowy others. Pynchon here refers to 'They' and the feeling of claustrophobia throughout is tangible. But I mentioned conspiracy theories above, didn't I?
9. Because ultimately, it leaves you with more questions than answers.Again, like all great literature.
10.The final words. No-one should pretend that this is an easy novel to read. Because it isn't. It is better than that. Martin Amis once referred to literature as 'complicated pleasure'. And this is what this is. " Now everybody - "

I decided to read Gravity's Rainbow after reading one of
Pynchon's short stories ( Entropy). I was/am a big Salman Rushdie
fan, specifically of The Satanic Versus, and noticed similarities between the respective authors writting styles. The verbal gymnastics, that allows both to tacle complex and difficult subject matter with a sharp eye and irreverent humour.
However, Pynchon is more apt to jump from, ( almost blindly), subject to subject and from concept to concept.
This can be a bit overwhelming, leaving one to wonder if any of
this will ever add up. Are we dealing with an giant mess of facts, ancedotes, songs, seemingly placed throught the text at random? Is thing destined to be incomprehensible?
No, at least I don't think so. This is not a book that can be made to conform to any sort of ordered system. This includes the reader's expectations of what a novel should be, or to what purpose a narrative should serve. This is a book that... me off, made me laugh, confused me, saddened me, frightened me, and amazed me, and upon finishing the book I was filled with an overwhelming sense of awe. It really is (rilly) one of the most awe inspiring books I have ever read. So, if one is open to the possibilities, this book is like going on a journey; a strange, bizarre, and beautiful one.

After reading Pynchon's excellent, self-deprecating introduction to these stories, it is difficult to read the stories without searching for, and finding, elements of writerly clumsiness and naivete. The effect is similar to that of reading James Joyce's "Stephen Hero": the realization that even great writers were human in their youth.

I think of the preface to this book as the main body of the text, and the stories as figures and appendices elaborating on what Pynchon means when he criticizes his former self. I would not recommend this book for the intrinsic literary value of the stories -- they're not all that great, especially when compared with the Pynchon we more readily know. But as an essay about how not to write short stories, with some illustrations provided, or as a bit of Pynchon autobiography, Slow Learner is magnificent.

These five stories are all worth reading. "Entropy" is no doubt his most famous; first anthologized in BASS and, since then, numerous other places (even Norton anthologized it in American Literature). Pynchon writes in his elucidating intro. that this story is something like the epitome of every flaw of a young writer; but, man, he also realizes that this is his most famous short story (i.e., take his intro. with a grain of salt [whatever that cliche really means]). "The Secret Integration" is a wonderfully sensitive story -- and uncharacteristically NOT overwritten. It was fascinating to see the mind of a young, Cornell Pynchon at work and I believe is an inspiration for all aspiring young writers.

for those intimidated by the later works, this is a sight for sore eyes. highly readible yet i would argue that "under the rose" is one of the lesser works of the collection. it seems that most reviewers use this as insight into his later works but for standing upon its own two literary legs. . . . great work. keep in mind that he wrote 4 out 0f 5 while still in college (one as an undergrad and the others, we can assume, as a grad student). the introduction is worth the price of the book, as many have also stated.

I purchased this book from Amazon because I wanted to expose myself to some alternate views of "The Crying of Lot 49"; and in that respect, this book was quite helpful. Including the five essays in this book, I have read about a dozen pieces of criticism on the novel, and there is virtually no agreement among any of them. Every single essayist interprets names, symbols, events, and passages differently. So "New Essays" won't lead you to the one key truth of "Lot 49", if there even is one. What's better though, is that this book will expose you to five divergent ways of thinking about the novel. Reading and understanding various conflicting arguments about "Lot 49" will only help you in your own quest to understand this book. I would give this book only 3.75 stars, however, because of the quality of some of the essays contained within. Some of the essays are quite excellent. Johnston's look at semiotics in the novel very interesting, thought provoking, and well written. Further essays on "disrupting story" and the use of metaphor are also very good. The book's first essay, a comparison of Borges to Pynchon, is not as strong. Perhaps my dislike of this essay was fueled by my inexperience with the work of Borges, or the fact that I only took Spanish for six years and was unable to understand many of the passages the author used by Borges. Mainly, I felt that this essay was not as insightful as other essays. Yes, it linked Pynchon and Borges well, but it didn't have too many interesting ideas about "Lot 49" itself. My biggest problem with the book was its final essay. This essay, written by a professor of American Studies at the University of Paris, attempts to look at the novel in the context of the 60's in the USA. This essay was boring and uninsightful. All in all, I'd say that this was a good buy, although at 16 dollars for what I judge as 3.5 good essays, some people may find it a little pricey.

Are you writing a paper on *The Crying of Lot 49*? If so, this book will come in handy.

Thomas Pynchon can fill a book with everything imaginable and still bore you to tears, but on the other hand one page about a banana breakfast and it is in your head for a lifetime. If Jim Morrison didn't die; I certainly believe that Thomas would be a good name for him...

A tough book to find, but when you do, it's worth it. The essays in this collection are informative, shedding light onto such slippery aspects of the novel as style, recurring motifs, Pynchon's humor, the novel's narrative structure, and satirical targets. The final work in the collection is a memoir by someone who allegedly got high with the notoriously reclusive author in the late-Sixties. Much of the criticism in this collection assumes the reader is familiar with "Gravity's Rainbow" as a point of reference, so if "Vineland" is your first go at Pynchon, many of the references in these criticisms will seem difficult understand. Overall, this is a handy book to read once you've finished "Vineland" and need to make sense of all the wackiness. Happy searching!

There is no longer any point in being defensive about Pynchon. I personally don't have any doubt that, on the strengths of "Gravity's Rainbow" and to a slightly lesser extent "The Crying of Lot 49", he is the greatest living novelist working in the English language, for what that's worth. These books are no more demanding than the average Jacobean tragedy. Which, really, isn't very much.

The rewards of Pynchon have always outweighed the difficulties, anyway. "Mason & Dixon" is perhaps the foundling child of the rumour, current in the 80s, that Pynchon was writing a novel about the Civil War. He ended up giving us "Vineland", his frothiest work, which isn't to say that it's not haunted by malevolent spectres of Nixon and Reagan. "Mason & Dixon" probably demands some vague acquaintance with 18th century fiction, in order to see what Pynchon is getting at stylistically, but really, guys, they're on the shelf at bargain prices, and if you haven't read 'em by now ... Gawd help you.

I use the word "mellow" because this seems to me to be a sadder and more tolerant Pynchon at work. (It may only seem that way cause he's older, and we expect this kind of thing from a Late Style, but nevertheless...I'll get back to you on it when I've read it again.) He manages to combine a mischievous sense of the contemporary with a feel for the America-before-America that seems somehow right, even if I don't know how. A good example is the episode where the stuffy Mason and the goofy Dixon pay a call on Colonel George Washington, who happens to be smoking a pipe filled with some substance or other; the three of them promptly get the munchies, and call upon the servants for some eats. Or the bit when a blue-bespectacled Benjamin Franklin plays a glass harmonica in a chophouse, thereby presaging the phenomenon of the DJ. Or the scene where the pizza is invented. And so on.

What's surprising and new about the book is Pynchon's (apparent) uncomplicated fondness for his two heroes. Mason, pious, middle-class, respectable and socially ambitious - southern English to a T - is forever being embarrassed by the blunt, wide-eyed, Northern Dixon. It's almost as though he sees future silent comedy duos in this unlikely partnership. The book is endlessly cheeky, but it has a beating heart, and the heart is in the relationship of the eponymous surveyors. The closing pages are amongst the most haunting and straightforwardly moving that he has ever written - and yet, in them, there is still a tragic awareness of how American history is going to turn out...

Yes, it's "picaresque", which is to say that it doesn't exactly have a swift, economical plot and isn't exactly unencumbered by digressions. But these are part of the pleasures of literature, or at least they were until the recent craze for the novel that you read in order to be able to say that you've read it. "Mason & Dixon" does not yield all its splendours in one go. Few good novels do. Hang on - make that _no_ good novels. Nabokov always said that you never really read a novel, you only reread it - meaning that if you get it all in the first reading, it probably wasn't worth writing. Pynchon took classes from Nabokov, and this lesson sunk in.

The man is still the greatest, at least in my mother tongue. (Though I'll wave a small flag with John Berger's name on it, just because I can.) I just finished this book, and I look forward to a time when I've forgotten what it's like, so that I can read it again.

I first read Pynchon about 30 years ago. Unlike some friends who can remember every character and situation of Gravity's Rainbow or V., it was not specific characters or events which most intrigued me in Pynchon's writing, but the sense of place he invokes. The place is not geographic, but experiential. To read Pynchon seriously (and this requires a certain suspension of disbelief), to follow his logic through(it is there, though sometimes difficult)is to experience a paradigm shift. One cannot read Pynchon and fail to experience the world a bit differently afterward. With Mason & Dixon, not only does Pynchon more clearly develop the significance of his theory of Entropy as it applies to human society (the obliteration of the mythic, the homogenization of culture, the blanding of the imagination), but he demonstrates that he has become wordsmith without equal in (at least)current English literature. The meaning of this work aside, it must be read by everyone who writes or wishes to write for the sheer beuty of its prose.This novel represents a synthesis of historic and scientific knowledge, social analysis, wit, insight and sheer mastery of description unequalled by anything I have seen in Twentieth Century literature. Don't be afraid of this book. Be afraid to be afraid of it.

If you're a Pynchon fanatic, you bought this when it was released. If you're not, you might as well start here. Part of the beauty of the book is figuring out the anachronisms and mentally translating the period colloquialisms throughout the novel. Another part of the beauty is trying not to piss in your pants when reading the burlesque sections. Pynchon has written some wonderful slapstick, both pedestrian and complex, in the past, but this book has some of the funniest scenes ever written by anyone. And those scenes are sidelines to the main story.

Get a good atlas, some history references (i.e. early colonial American history and British colonial history, e.g. "The Rise and Fall of the British Empire" by Lawrence James), a really comfortable chair, and take a few days off work to fully enjoy. It also helps to not care if people see you cry. I started sniffling about 100 pages from the end since I knew I was close to finishing the book. Then, it got REALLY sad, and I bawled. "Gravity's Rainbow" exhausts you and exhilirates you from its sweeping concordance of conspiracy theories and history; "Mason & Dixon" exhausts you from its sheer beauty, and throws in a little conspiracy and history just to keep you on your toes.

For those who've rated the book here and complained about it's complexity, I can only say you need to work on your attention spans. Like all the other Pynchon books (with the exception of "Vineland" and maybe "Lot 49"), you should expect this book to become the central part of your free time for a few days. There are no wasted words or throw-away scenes here. There are sentences so finely constructed that they'll force you to re-read them several times, and there are chapters so dense that you'll wish you'd majored in history. Even the page numbers seem steeped in meaning after about 1/3 of the book.

Pynchon turns a demented eye to the sixties' leftist movement in this oddball look at sex, drugs, and politics. Zoyd is an aging California hippie, heavily into drugs, rock and roll, and easy living. He lives on a government subsidy (disability) that provides for the simple needs of himself and his daughter, Prairie. His ex-wife Frenesi, the daughter of two old-time Wobblies, takes the leftist movement very seriously until she falls for the fascist federal prosecutor Brock Vond. Despite the story's initial focus on Zoyd, most of the book is devoted to Prairie trying to understand her mother. She is helped in this quest by a butt-kicking ninja babe called D.L. who through press releases, personal interviews, and a series of politically charged home movies, reveals the truth about Frenesi.

As is typical, Pynchon's novel is more effective on a symbolic level than on a literal one. Just as V investigated the dichotomy between the human and the inanimate, Vineland (the name of a city, perhaps similar to "Holly" "wood") explores the relationship between the sixties counterculture movement and leftist political philosophy. Those who view this book as a leftist manifesto have perhaps overlooked the fact that it is Zoyd, the hippie, who is most sympathetic to the reader (and his daughter as well), while Frenesi (the true political leftist) who comes off as a driven, destructive witch. At some level Frenesi's lust for Vond symbolizes her hunger for the power he represents. Her lust for power drives her to sell out her ideals, just as the sixties leftists sold out theirs once the possibility of achieving real power came within their grasp. Thus the difference between the hippies and the leftists was that the hippies wanted freedom, while leftists wanted control, and as such had more in common with the fascist right than with the counterculture that they manipulated. Viewed in this light, Pynchon's message is not that leftist politics is better than fascism, but rather that both forms of political extremism are fundamentally flawed. The book's hero is Zoyd, who is politically paranoid and legally insane (by government standards), so we see that Pynchon's political solution is merely to live one's own life, and maintain a deep distrust of anyone who encroaches on our freedoms whether from the left or the right. And the heroine is not Frenesi, but D. L., who also takes care of Prairie at a crucial moment, and who uses her feminine power to deal with injustices one at a time, rather than trying to change the world.

Despite the metaphorical richness of this book, however, it suffers from some serious problems. The science-fictiony presence of the so-called Thanatoids (ghosts of the unjustly dead) really adds nothing to the story, and along with the occasional reference to high-tech snooping devices, mid-air abductions, and strong female characters, seems a cheap ploy to draw in the cyberpunk audience without the necessity of actually studying science first. But worse than any of that is the depressing world-view that pervades the entire book. Frenesi's betrayals cast a pall over the entire novel, destroying everything in her path, and most of the novel simply follows her downward spiral into depravity and insignificance. Pynchon is a fine writer and has created some amusing characters and situations here, but the bleakness of his political message undercuts the fun of the novel, leaving the reader, like Zoyd, happy to have someplace else to go home to. This is in a many ways a brilliant book, but it's too X-files wacky for serious political readers, too unscientific for cyberpunks, and too dark for good escapism. If none of these bother you, perhaps you'll really love it.

If you have never read Pynchon, you should begin here. This book is not as complicated or distant as V, Gravity's Rainbow or Mason&Dixon, but it does get you used to his style. Geographically and time wise you don't have some of the extremes you can encounter in his other novels.

And don't think that someone else can tell you what a Pynchon novel is about. It's about what you take from it, and the questions you end up asking about the world you live in.

As to criticism that this guy doesn't know how to write, give me a break, that's like someone going to see a play by Shakespeare during his life and complaining that he didn't know how to write.

Pynchon is not a easy read ever, but if you want something more than a book you'll pour through and forget in a week, try it.

This book marks something of a stylistic step backward for Pynchon, I find it much more reminiscent of CRYING OF LOT 49 than say GRAVITY'S RAINBOW, but, hey, I LIKED CRYING... & I like this. There is the same combination of entertaining characters, impossible-but-weirdly-believable situations, and more than a hint of paranoia that keeps one turning the pages. Enthusiasts for the 1960's & the notion of "hippy purity" will probably be annoyed by Pynchon's cynicism, but I think at the heart of the book Pynchon is asking an important question about the whole notion of "meaning" in terms of how the Woodstock Generation could have been a prelude to Reagan/Bush rather than a real positive "revolution" in human relations. Unlike Gravity's Rainbow, most folks will find VINELAND a fast read with a clear begiining, middle & end & while it isn't the sort of break-through in style that earlier Pynchon represents, it is well worth a read. Hmm, I wondr. In some ways GRAVITY'S RAINBOW was an elaboration on V. and in the same senseVINELAND is an elaboration of LOT 49, so where does that put Mason & Dixon?

In "V.", Thomas Pynchon intertwines his encyclopedic knowledge with his wild imagination, and in doing so, creates one of the most intriguing novels of the 20th Century. Some readers will complain that it is too complex, that there is no standard plot structure, and that there are too many characters. Clearly this is not a book for everyone, but that doesn't make it any less an accomplishment. In fact, I've always considered the creation of something that is not mediocre to be the whole point of literature, or any other art for that matter. Perhaps some readers try too hard to figure it all out as they read through the novel. If you really want to "get" it, you should probably read it more than once. If you don't enjoy it the first time, simply reading for enjoyment's sake, then don't go back to try to "figure it all out." Pynchon's writing is extremely significant and complex. However, if you can't enjoy episodes like the "Suck Hour" of the first chapter or the "Alligator in the Sewer," then the book just isn't for you. Pynchon's got a bizarre sense of humor. Some of us love it, some of us hate it. "V." is indeed dense and encyclopedic at times, but if you can't get a laugh out of the first few chapters, don't even bother finishing it. Perhaps you should just stick to Oprah's list in that case.

Thomas Pynchon's first book V. is one of the great books of the last 50 years. It is a book that is filled with symbol and meaning and portent. At the simplest level it is a story about Benny Profane, a poor "schlemil" whose pathetic life is filled with almost surreal adventures that lead him to gangs and love and alligators in the sewers! But Benny's adventures become inexplicablyintertwined with those of Stencil and the mysterious V. And therein lies the great challenge and great pleasure of Pynchon. There is a search to discover meaning and perhaps to discover one's own history. Pynchon's tale leads back to the diplomatic intrique preceding World War I and somehow connects us with the misadventures of Benny. And all the while, like some great mystery thriller in reverse, the deeper one gets into V., the more information that is revealed, the more complex the mystery becomes. Indeed, the thrill of Pynchon is to become ensnared in that mystery and try to find meaning in that complex and interconnected web. Ultimately, perhaps, like all the great questions in life, the question of the meaning of who V. is and the meaning of the book itself may never be answer. But the power of this novel is that it draws you in to consider that mystery. The book, somehow, finds connections between the great historical events of the beginning of this century and several generations of characters who themselves are all interconnected and the ever-changing technology of this century. Is V. a mysterious woman, a cause of the wars of this century or the essential meaninglessness of modern society? Read V. and discover that answer for yourself!

The public opinion of Pynchon is mixed, as is the public opinion of each of his works. Some think he is the greatest writer since the second world war, others think he's unreadable. My sympathies lean towards the former rather than the latter. I do not believe Pynchon is the least bit unreadable. Certainly he will appeal to some readers, rather than others. However, I firmly believe that some people are intimidated by his reputation. Yes, there are many, many metaphors and underlying meanings on each page, which intertwine into elaborate puzzles that very few people could solve on their own. However, one does not need to spend an hour reading each page in order to "understand" it. If you read a book for the first time by trying to absorb as much as possible from each page, you probably will not enjoy it. Pynchon's work is, among other things, quite enjoyable. He is a brilliant satirist, among other things, though his novels run deeper than mere satire. "V.", though not his best work in my opinion, is an extremely enjoyable novel that I feel is a good introduction to the Pynchon oeuvre. Read it for pleasure the first time around, then, if you enjoyed it, go back and re-read it, it doesn't have to be immediately thereafter, and try to pick up on more the second time around. A work like this cannot be swallowed whole in a single reading. For those unsure if they want to make the commitment, read the first chapter of this novel. If you find it enjoyable, you'll probably enjoy the rest. If not, just read someone else. Pynchon is a great writer, but he's certainly not for everyone.