Ben's Reviews > V.

V. by Thomas Pynchon
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's review
May 08, 07

it was amazing
bookshelves: favorites

"I write poetry," she announced. They were at her place, a modest hotel near the great lift.

"Oh," said Profane.

"I am the twentieth century," she read. Profane rolled away and stared at the pattern in the rug.


Like that last reviewer below me, V. is also my favorite Pynchon novel. This isn't exactly any kind of definitive statement, as I've only started four (Lot 49, V., Vineland, Gravity's Rainbow) and finished two (Lot 49, V.). Even so, it's easily one of my top 5 favorite novels. Few other books I've read have had the ability to so completely pull me into a familiar yet alien world. Few have offered the kind of perfect balance between madcap situation comedy (alliagtors in the NYC sewers), excruciating realism (dentistry), historical fantasy (Vheissu), and, in short, true emotion. I've only read it once so far, but I aim to fix that soon.
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