Pynchon novels and life stages

[Penny Padgett Harper]

I read Lot 49 as a literature-hungry high school kid ca. 1977.
I read V. and GR as an English student at UC Berkeley, ca. 1981.
When Vineland came out, I was single and working.  When M&D 
came out, I had a young baby.  All of these circumstances (believe
it or not) allowed me to indulge, to wallow, to luxuriate in Pynchon's
prose, to seek out lines of inquiry that pleased or vexed me, to
participate avidly in discussions offline and on, to *think* as deeply
as I could about what I was reading.

Now I'm a crabby mother of two grade-school kids, and time and
quiet are the most precious commodities imaginable.  And only now
do I begin to appreciate the criticisms of others who have had trouble
entering Pynchon's worlds.  I've been beavering away at this new
behemoth every chance I've got since 9 am Tuesday, and frankly?
I'm not having that much fun.  Yet.  I'm having trouble holding on
to the threads, I'm skimming and missing some of the jewels others
have found, and the thought of chasing down some of the historical
allusions feels more like homework than delightful intellectual 
exercise.

Dammit.

Penny