This time of distancing and isolation, where science and technology are a constant background voice and many are left to wonder who knows what and when and how the knowledge is used or not and why… it feels a little like a Pynchon novel.
“A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.” [Gravity’s Rainbow]
I’ve read (most of) all of them, in some cases more than once (in sections). His books are long and dense and atmospheric, and very beautiful. The one that I return to frequently, maybe because it’s his shortest and in a way most personal besides Inherent Vice (the movie adaptation of which is a worthy intro if you’re new to Pynchon and care to nibble), is The Crying of Lot 49.
Mucho Maas, home, bounded through the screen door. “Today was another defeat,” he began.
“Let me tell you,” she also began. But let Mucho go first.
This mix of almost slapstick comedy and extreme seriousness, told through the vantage points of rich and memorable characters, is typical Pynchon.
If you have extra time and space these days, like many others, I highly recommend…
… and also this, which feels similar in spirit:
Speculative Fiction 