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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