The fact that Pynchon wrote ‘V’, his debut novel, in his early 20s whilst still in college is just about as mind boggling as the book itself. It is a stunning work, and one that will have you Googling almost as much as reading. The Googling will mostly likely be on events mentioned in the book, most notably the Fashoda Incident or the Fashoda Crisis in 1898, the South African Bondelswarts Rebellion in 1922, and the siege of Malta in WWII.

Reading Pynchon is always a roller coaster of an experience, that readers just about manage to hang on to throughout. The best advice is just to roll with it, letting yourself be carried along for the ride. If you’re looking for a linear plot line, you won’t find it here; and we certainly feel Pynchon warming up, flexing his literary muscles in preparation for ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’ – which if you haven’t yet read, I’d definitely now recommend reading ‘V’ first.

Who or what then is V? That’s the question we’re all asking as we embark with Pynchon on this first voyage of a novel. Is V a person? A movement? A feeling? A perception? A war? A revolution? A paranoia? It could just about be all of those things, and I won’t clarify here… you’ll have to read the book for that.

As the central tapestry of the book, we have Benny Profane, a discharged US Navy Sailor, who falls in with a group of artists/hangers-on/bums known as the Whole Sick Crew, rollicking around in 1950s New York. Profane gets caught up in the quest of a one Herbert Stencil to discover who or what is V.

The hijinks and shenanigans of Profane and his Sick Crew are certainly entertaining, but it’s the historical sections of the book that really stood out for me, the incidents/events I first mentioned above, particularly the South African Bondelswarts Rebellion in 1922. This section of the book is incredibly dark and intense (be warned, there is plenty of deeply upsetting, triggering and racist language to reflect this awful historical period).

There is also a wonderful section about a ballet company in Paris in 1913, which is clearly inspired by/borrowed from the infamous first performance of Stravinsky’s ‘The Rite of Spring’, which caused a riot due to the nature of the music and Vaslav Nijinsky’s choreography. (As a bassoonist, The Rite has long been one of my favourite works, so this felt particularly close to my own heart!)

As with most of Pynchon’s work, it’s incredibly hard to pinpoint exactly what the book is about, there is so much going on, it’s about so many things. But there are central and reoccurring themes throughout, namely the uprisings I’ve mentioned along with the periods of decadence that proceed them. The word ‘decadence’ is used throughout the book, and there is one quote that for me goes someway to summing it up…

“To have humanism we must first be convinced of our humanity. As we move further into decadence, this becomes more difficult”.

It’s a truly amazing book, and one that will definitely challenge. I feel like it often gets overshadowed by ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’, but if you’re gonna read Pynchon, then it absolutely should not be overlooked.

Πριν απο αρκετα χρονια ειχα επισκεφτει ενα μουσειο μοντερνας τεχνης σε μια μεγαλη ευρωπαϊκή πρωτευουσα.εδω να πω οτι σιχαινομαι τη μοντερνα τεχνη και ειμαι συνηθως αυτη η ανωριμη που στεκεται πισω πισω απο επισκεπτες σε μουσεια που θαυμαζουν πχ ενα εκθεμα με εναν κουβα και μια σφουγγαριστρα και απλα γελαω.σε εκεινο το μουσειο ομως ετυχε να δω εναν απλουστατο πινακα με διαφορα χρωματα "πεταμενα" στον καμβα. Ακομη και σημερα ,δεν εχω ιδεα για ποιον λογο, αλλα εμεινα εκει να το κοιταζω περισσοτερο απο οσο εμεινα σε οποιοδηποτε αλλο πινακα.ειμαι ενας ανθρωπος που μου αρεσει η λογικη, το νοημα , η κυριολεξια πισω απο τις μεταφορες.ομως εκεινος ο πινακας με εκανε να σκεφτω οτι πρεπει να επιτρεπω στον εαυτο μου να θαυμαζει απλα κατι ωραιο που και που χωρις γιατι και πως.
Ετσι, μετα απο αυτη τη μεγαλη εισαγωγη και για να συνδεσω τα παραπανω με την πρωτη αναγνωση μου βιβλιου του Πυντσον, εχω να πω πως προφανως και οποιος διαβασει το συγκεκριμενο(και ισως ολα?)βιβλιο του πυντσον, δε πρεπει να περιμενει ενα μυθιστορημα με αρχη μεση και τελος, με καταιγιστικες εξελιξεις και μια τελικη καθαρση και λυση ολων των "μυστηριων". Γενικως δεν πρεπει να περιμενει τιποτα.πρεπει να βουτηξει με το κεφαλι και απλα να απολαυσει την καταδυση στο μυαλο του συγγραφεα.ειναι πραγματικα σαν να σε εχει καλεσει ο Πυντσον στο ονειρο του.εικονες, χαρακτηρες, ανεξηγητα γεγονοτα παρελαύνουν μπροστα σου χωρις καμια λογικη σειρα και πολλες φορες χωρις συνδεση.ομως το αισθητικο αποτελεσμα -ειδικα σε ορισμενα σημεια- ειναι τοσο μεγαλειωδες που απλα ξεχνας τη "λογικη" που οι περισσοτεροι αναγνωστες εχουμε τοσο αναγκη στα αναγνωσματα μας.το βιβλιο αυτο λοιπον ηταν σαν εκεινον τον μοντερνο πινακα πριν χρονια.εσπασε κατι στον αναγνωστικο μου χαρακτηρα.καποιο φραγμα.και το ευχαριστηθηκα οσο δεν περιμενα.

I have just finished reading Thomas Pynchon’s first novel, V. (1963). This is one of those works which is so disturbing to readers who feel they must understand every reference, every symbol, every character. And what if the novel has hundreds of characters, most of them with highly fanciful names like Herbert Stencil or Benny Profane or Rachel Owlglass or Pig Bodine. For good or ill, something happened in the twentieth century that resulted in a great divorce of art from the common everyday experience of reality.

One can find it in James Joyce (Finnegan’s Wake), Samuel Beckett (The Unnamable), Georges Perec (Life: A User’s Manual), William Faulkner (Absalom, Absalom!), and Gertrude Stein (The Making of Americans). And, in fact, all over the place.

Because my academic training is in film history and criticism, I was able to make a connection to one of my favorite directors, the Spaniard Luis Buñuel. In an interview with André Bazin and Jacques Doniol-Valcroze that appeared in Cahiers du Cinéma in June 1954, Buñuel wrote:

For me it is natural to tend to see and to think of a situation from a sadistic rather than from, say, a neorealistic or mystical point of view. I ask myself: What must this character reach for? A revolver? A knife? A chair? In the end, I always choose whichever is most disturbing. That’s all…. [Quoted in Ado Kyrou, Luis Buñuel: An Introduction (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1963)]

If one looks at Pynchon’s novel V., one finds a search for a feminine entity referred to as V., presumably because that is the first letter of her name. In the course of the novel, there are dozens of characters who could qualify, and Pynchon is in no hurry to identify which one is right. The candidates include Victoria Wren, Vera Meroving, the goddess Venus, Veronica Manganese, a rat named Veronica in the sewers of New York, Madame Viola, Hedwig Vogelsang, the Blessed Virgin, or ??? Then again, V. could be a place, such as Valetta (Malta), Venezuela, the mysterious Vheissu (never explained), Vesuvius, or the V-Note Jazz Club in Manhattan ???

Thomas Pynchon is not terribly interested in providing closure, but he does know how to suck you in and keep turning those pages until you get to the strange death by waterspout of Sydney Stencil in 1919.

I hated this book. So much.

Tomas Pincon, pisac koji je sam po sebi misterija kao i sama V. ko god ona bila ili sta god to ona predstavljala anti junacima ovog anti romana ili vama koji ga citate.
Ali dodjavola Tomase kako si sa 26 ili 27 godina baratao ovolikim, po meni cesto, i nebitnim informacijama. Bio sam na korak do ludila toliko puta dok sam citao V. i taman kada pomislim da su reci samo bujica Pinconovih buncanja on nekako uspe da poentria kroz jednu recenicu ili jedan pasus. I kao da je je celo delo samo jedan fragment njegovih misli dok se u pozadini odvija nekakava opipljivija i bitnija radnja koju se nije setio da prenese na papir. Puno borbe, puno atmosfere, previse istorije, premalo nade i na kraju osecam samo ljubav prema ovoj knjizi ali ne i dovoljno odlucnosti da joj dam pet zvezdica.

"A phrase (it often happened when he was exhausted) kept cycling round and round, preconsciously, just under the threshold of lip and tongue movement: "Events seem to be ordered into an ominous logic." It repeated itself automatically and Stencil improved on it each time, placing emphasis on different words-"events seem"; "seem to be ordered"; "ominous logic"-pronouncing them differently, changing the "tone of voice" from sepulchral to jaunty: round and round and round. Events seem to ordered into an ominous logic. He found paper and pencil and began to write the sentence in varying hands and type faces."

As wartime paranoia, obsessiveness, elusiveness, and ambiguity all seem to be trademark characteristics of Thomas Pynchon's more epic narratives, it's easy enough for the reader to constantly stumble upon these intentionally scattered, meta-clues. Because his novels cover such a broad realm of subjects, while proposing a very unique, and humorous philosophy of history, the connections and transitions of V.'s hodgepodge of vignettes concerning a rich tapestry of characters struggling with both World Wars becomes more and more apparent as the "story" reaches its conclusion. Overall, this passage seems to function as an accurate metaphor for what it feels like to read V..

With his eagerly anticipated seventh novel coming out in August of this year, V. now stands as one of his more accessible works, not to mention a fascinating example of his writing to look back upon in retrospect. Benny Profane is the archetypal Pynchonian schlemihl; an endearing protagonist, merely trying to get by as the rest of the world struggles obsessively with finding existential meaning in a universe full of closed systems. Tyrone Slothrop of Gravity's Rainbow would later act as a more carefully constructed version of this character. While it's true that not all of Pynchon's protagonists are slackers simply looking for a good time, they still function as tour guides who offer a more or less objective view of the events taking place. Even Herbert Stencil who exists as sort of an opposite of Profane, still shares a set of common characteristics, namely, humility or humanity. Call it what you will.

We follow Profane after just getting out of the navy, living in New York. He falls in with a crowd of bohemians and drifters referred to as the Whole Sick Crew. This group resembles the social crowd in the Recognitions as well as characters belonging to any standard party scene in a beat novel (albeit far more tolerable, and acting as intentional parodies). Profane loafs around, finds a job hunting alligators in the sewers of New York. After shooting Stencil in the ass on one of his jobs more characters enter the picture, and we are introduced to Stencil's obsessive quest to find the elusive V., a sort of character that his father before him had been fascinated with. From there the narrative drifts back and forth between historical episodes set during the tail end of the 19th century, and the first half of the 20th.

Pynchon's sympathies have always been directed at the marginalized, poor, oppressed, idealistic, liberal, etc. Even when he sketches portraits of his capitalist, fascist, hateful villains, he still manages to show their early development from wide-eyed, idealistic dreamer to avaricious monster, while avoiding a sort of idealistic bias because he presents the reader with the inherent weakness and hypocrisy of his liberal heroes just as well. Gaddis did the same thing with Wyatt Gwyon and Edward Bast, albeit both met more morbid, Faustian ends.

V. functions as a metaphor for the late twentieth century, synthetic dehumanization, which has now become one of the more blatant examples of postmodern theorizing, but in 1961 this all must have read as more of a prescient idea. Several episodes in the book, as ambiguous as they are, sort of portray "her" as an unattainable object of desire. The fourth chapter entitled "In Which Esther Gets a Nose Job" is the earliest introduction to this theme. Naturally, Shoenmaker the man who performs this operation, later to become her insensitive lover is the first sort of villain to appear. Robots modeled after humans appear later on. Profane has a particularly profound and hilarious conversation with one of them. Pynchon utilizes this theme as a way of revealing how human beings desire this sort of mechanical, empty ontology, as a way of escaping their own horrific human condition. Once again, this is why Profane's character is so very important. He exemplifies the human spirit. In his lackadaisical approach to life, he achieves what is of the utmost importance to Pynchon. The ability to merely exist, and deal, regardless of whatever sort of astronomical terror will abound. Another reason why his own unique brand of historical fiction functions so well. What's more horrifying than the first half of the twentieth century?

Capolavoro.

EDIT: I give up again. 'V' is a travesty of juvenile puns, unconvincing dialogue, and (my own pet peeve) characters with impossibly trite names. Seriously, what gives?

EDIT: I decided to try reading it again.


have you ever had the feeling that an author is simply trying to bludgeon you over the head with abstruseness? have you ever read one of those books that all of the "serious readers" swear is an infallible masterpiece, despite its meat-fisted appropriation of the stylistic innovations of Eliot, Pound, Joyce, Woolf, et al.? If you haven't, then read 'V'.

(seriously, though, 'V' is a great book. i just read it too soon after my Ezra Pound phase, and it sort of rang hollow and derivative. i'm sure i'll love it when i read it again in a few years.)

Oh my my. My my my. I went into this one the day after the election because I heard how Pynchon paints America. I needed the surreal chaos of Pynchon's fiction as a distraction. Turns out, Pynchon is really too on the nose. And I was blown away.

I had read the best way to go into this book was to just let it happen. A note about not all pieces needing to connect/to make sense. I just went full force. I kind of regret starting that way. Around the halfway point I was so invested (infected?), I wanted to go back and start working at all the little strings. But I pushed forward. (I can't wait to reread this one).

My favorite chapters: "9, Mondaugen's Story" and "11, Confessions of Fausto Maijstral".

I am surprised how much I loved this book. I often read for the prose (see William H. Gass) and not necessarily the plot or the ideas. Of course, prose plot and purpose are a great combo. Pynchon's novel starts as mostly purpose (ideas), but as I worked through this book I found some really firecracker pieces of prose. Now I wonder if I missed some earlier pieces when I was just "letting the book wash over me."

I can't wait to move forward with Pynchon. Immediately.

Although not nearly as perfect as some of his later works, there are many traces of Pynchon's genius in this novel. It is not as drug-induced, decadent or heartbreaking as Gravity's Rainbow, nor is it as beautiful, ambitious or creative as Mason & Dixon, not to mention as impressively human or historically conscious as Against the Day.

Pynchon's writing in this early novel, though showing early incarnations of his later works, seems unrefined and confused. There are so called "Pynchon sentences" here, but none as decisive or as wonderful as in his later writings, in which almost every page is stacked full of incredibly sharp, yet long and haunting passages. Most significant in Pynchon's later writing is his incredible writing on the movement of social and political structures and mechanisms. In other words, Pynchon's later writing is dynamic; things and people move in Pynchon's world and the movement feels significant, as if it reflects on the movement of things and people in real life; a movement that is hard for us to grasp unless it is written by Pynchon's genius-pen.

That being said, "V", is a very good book. I really enjoyed it. There are some incredibly funny passages, specifically some about alligator-hunting in the New York sewers, and some interesting passages on Malta. Many of Pynchon's later thematic concerns appear in "V", such as automata, transhumanism, war, capitalism, historicity, truth, and most important: Love, but none of those thematic concerns seem as important as in his later novels, given the fact that Pynchon had not found his artistic style yet.

Is it still a bildungsroman if the person you're watching develop is the author, rather than a character within the novel they're writing?

This turned out to be my least favourite Pynchon novel to date. In saying that, I never tend to love his work on the first pass - it generally takes time for my feverish, obsessive love for his books to gestate. So let's give it time to see if a resonance starts to build.

Rather than attempt an exhaustive analysis of V in 2200 characters or less (for which I simply do not have the available cognitive capacity), I've excised a quote from one of its closing chapters that I feel encapsulates everything the novel has to say (swipe). That, and the simple sentiment "keep cool, but care".

V is basically TRP workshopping his hobbyhorses that we would later become patently familiar with in his major works. If nothing else, it was fascinating to watch his ideas develop. That, and the alligator hunting with the rat priest sequence.

Hope this one grows on me.

Pynchon and I have a love/hate relationship. The man is brilliant in his own right but he fails to appeal to me. Moderism just isn't my cup of tea. I do find his writing unique, original and initially intimidating. I was much more successful with n  V.n than Crying of Lot 49. I fancied n  V.n much more as well. Now that I am no longer intimidated by Pynchon, this read was more relaxed and I actually "got it" without wanting to bang my head against a brick wall. I realized I'm not stupid Pynchon is nothing short of brilliant. Reading his work is similar to playing with a Rubik's cube, took me a while before my breakthrough aha moment. ��

n  V.n carries many themes, some overt, some tucked away until you unleash their presence. You'll find ��in n  V.n a theme of "searching" as well as "replacement." I don't want to elaborate as to leading to spoilers, however, in my experience these two themes were present.��

Whatever you have heard about Pynchon - good/bad, take a shot and enjoy the experience. He might turn out to be your favorite author, his style might appeal to you but you'll never know unless you try. For goodness sake don't be intimated like I was, you'll waste time reading into more than what's printed. Relax and enjoy, whatever the outcome it will be a ride you'll remember. ��