The Crying of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon
2.27.11 - 3.4.11
[Everytime I go to Oregon, I get bit by the "want to read Pynchon" bug. Won't like, though--I'm intimidated. He scares me the way James Joyce scares me]
That I finished this makes me feel vastly more accomplished and proud that I should be.
There's a certain style of writing, a particular attitude that various authors have and I lump them together and analyze them with a particular lens. Vonnegut, Palahniuk, Pynchon. Danielewski. They all have this raw, unpolished attitude in their writing. That they might not be anarchists is true, but I'm sure they are all in love with the notion, and of chaos.
They all require readings to be understandable, they require a type of familiarity with the material that borders on memorization in order to see through the gauzy curtains of their literary chaos. It is clear to see why they have cults created around them. I enjoyed this book, most certainly. Finishing it make sme feel mildly more confident in my decision to add Gravity's Rainbow to my next batch of reading assignments.
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