Pynchon novels and life stages

[Lary Wallace]

Well, you're not alone there, Penny. This is how many historical references I've bothered to track down: 0. Even as a Pynchon fan who is on his way to becoming a professional historian, I don't feel obliged to put in a lot of legwork; that's the author's job. I know that will sound obscene to some; so be it. I've been reading the book in fits and starts, amid so many other books, and savoring the passages that are worth savoring. Even though I am now, as of last month, officially in my thirties, I'm still capable of digging the conceit of the Chums of Chance and their storybook hot-air balloon. I flipped ahead and saw references to the Explorer's Club. Can't wait. I love the picaresque pattern of the novel. I love the magnanimous ambition of it. Who was it from the list who was worried they might be reading _USA_ on acid? Sounds good to me. 


----- Original Message ----
From: Penny Padgett Harper <padgett.harper at verizon.net>
To: pynchon-l at waste.org
Sent: Thursday, November 23, 2006 1:39:27 PM
Subject: Pynchon novels and life stages


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

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