Randomanthony's review
The Crying of Lot 49 (Perennial Fiction Library)
by Thomas Pynchon
I can't wait to read your review of this.
Thanks, man...a bunch of us are reading this over in miniam if you want to join the party...
No need for me to wait for your review. I love it, so you'll probably hate it.
: /
Hey, since you are on pain medication, this might be the perfect time to finish reading this, RA. You and Oedipa, wandering blearily through the wordplay and imagery...
Ha...I put this down until Maura and the boys are out of town because I'm so busy lately and this one deserves my full attention, I think...
I have extra pain medication, by the way. I'm not sure what I should do with it. Pass it around?
Wait, let me get this straight. You gave up on Pynchon (albeit momentarily), yet dive so happily into Murakami? You are an odd duck.
Heh. I suppose I am. I'll get back to the Pynchon, no doubt.
By the way, you never answered my question about Walden, did you?
For what it's worth, I think Pynchon, much like Joyce, is a pompous, hyper-indulgent, and thoroughly unenjoyable read foisted upon the rest of the reading planet by those whose unfortunate taste in literature is weighted heavily towards the kind of stuff that makes that makes them feel like a smarty pants. I spent a significant time in my early Twenties slogging through the Crying of Lot 49, along with the more voluminous Gravity's Rainbow and V, under the mistaken notion that Pynchon would reward my dedication with some grand insights into the human experience or, at the very least, that he would pony up a few choice literary pleasures along the way. Tony, the best thing you could have done is to cease and desist in reading this turgid work. My advice is to take your copy of the Crying of Lot 49 and deposit it at the "take a book, leave a book" stand at your local VFW before you get tempted into giving this thorough waste of your time another try.
Randomanthony's review
The Crying of Lot 49 (Perennial Fiction Library) by Thomas Pynchon
Randomanthony's review
bookshelves:
to-read
Wussed out in the middle of the miniam read...couldn't get in a groove...too busy at the time. I'll return. Oh yes, I'll return.
I can't wait to read your review of this.
Thanks, man...a bunch of us are reading this over in miniam if you want to join the party...
No need for me to wait for your review. I love it, so you'll probably hate it.
: /
Hey, since you are on pain medication, this might be the perfect time to finish reading this, RA. You and Oedipa, wandering blearily through the wordplay and imagery...
Ha...I put this down until Maura and the boys are out of town because I'm so busy lately and this one deserves my full attention, I think...I have extra pain medication, by the way. I'm not sure what I should do with it. Pass it around?
Wait, let me get this straight. You gave up on Pynchon (albeit momentarily), yet dive so happily into Murakami? You are an odd duck.
Heh. I suppose I am. I'll get back to the Pynchon, no doubt.By the way, you never answered my question about Walden, did you?
For what it's worth, I think Pynchon, much like Joyce, is a pompous, hyper-indulgent, and thoroughly unenjoyable read foisted upon the rest of the reading planet by those whose unfortunate taste in literature is weighted heavily towards the kind of stuff that makes that makes them feel like a smarty pants. I spent a significant time in my early Twenties slogging through the Crying of Lot 49, along with the more voluminous Gravity's Rainbow and V, under the mistaken notion that Pynchon would reward my dedication with some grand insights into the human experience or, at the very least, that he would pony up a few choice literary pleasures along the way. Tony, the best thing you could have done is to cease and desist in reading this turgid work. My advice is to take your copy of the Crying of Lot 49 and deposit it at the "take a book, leave a book" stand at your local VFW before you get tempted into giving this thorough waste of your time another try.