Thomas Pynchon, 1961
So, here I am in Canada. I only brought one book, the next book on the
Contemporary Novels syllabus, V. by Thomas Pynchon. It's 492
pages long so I figured it'd last a while. But after fifty pages I gave
up. The book jacket flap says "incident piles on incident" and that
seems about right. Malone Dies was a
pile of words; this is a pile of incidents. But it's still a pile.
And life is too short to read a pile.
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