Not quite as refined as his later works, but it’s a real spectacle of a novel, this onslaught of a style that’s so uniquely Pynchon.

A wild novel unified only by the impossibility of unifying it. As with most of Thomas Pynchon’s work, this first one is not for everybody but those who like it are going to like it a lot. Quests, paranoia, pop-culture (especially from the United States), wild parties, race & racism, belief systems, music, frantic sexual exploration, and a total lack of definitive answers to most of the novel’s questions are present in Pynchon’s work from the beginning.

I first read V. and Pynchon ,for that matter in 1999 and I was blown away. I probably understood 5% of it but I was amazed at the writing and some plot points.

20 years later and this reread was much needed.

The basic plot is about a spy who discovers a line about a mysterious character called V in his father’s journals. He then dedicates his life to finding out who V is.

But this is Pynchon so nothing is so straightforward. There are many plot diversions, false leads and seemingly unconnected scenes. I say seemingly because Pynchon drops clues and then returns to them. Even most absurd plotline has a deeper role. V is like a huge jigsaw , where the final piece makes the reader understand the plot.Like all Pynchon novels, there are songs, rhymes and bizarro set pieces, which lead to some funny moments.

It goes deeper though.

V is about the futility of war, the stupidity of mankind,our obsession with technology and our need to destroy. This is seen in the major set pieces in Cairo, Florence, South Africa and Malta.

If you deeper you’ll find out that t

The whole novel is a homage to Wittgenstein’s theories but I only caught hints of that.

There is no doubting that V is a masterpiece and one of the foundations of experimental literature.Unlike what critics say, The text is not unreadable and Pynchon does help the reader with the journey. Not the easiest of reads but a fun and rewarding one if the reader perseveres.

Reading Pynchon is sometimes like being thrown into the deep end of the pool and not knowing how to swim. You either drown in the prose or fight for survival. Pynchon's first novel is dense like much of his work but that should not be off putting. Among the themes are the duality of man and the circle of life. Also the animate and inanimate world. " profane decided no to argue. So all he said was "it's probably a nice place, that Rusty Spoon. But out of my class." "Rot she said, class, Aristocracy is in the soul. You may be the descendant of kings. Who knows." All the while only in the process of learning life's single lesson: that there is more accident to it than a man can ever admit to in a life time and stay sane."

Reading this novel was like a week-long binge on high-grade pot, while you’re at home feverish with COVID-19 and swilling massive quantities of Robitussin-with-codeine and endless pots of English Breakfast Tea, all the while channel-surfing on a television set that only plays twelve different obscure early-60s TV shows whose plots you can never quite follow. I give the book five stars.

Huhu tại sao mới 26 mà người ta đã có thể viết được một cuốn như vầy! Tầm tuổi này tôi vẫn còn đang vắt óc suy nghĩ caption 10 chữ cho mấy tấm ảnh chụp chó mèo up instagramm!

I spent last night thinking about this book when I should have been sleeping. That's a far cry from where I was a few weeks ago, lost in Cairo and ready to toss the e-book...and where I was again in Florence. Namibia was terribly disturbing, but I had to respect the effort. Malta was a bit slow too. But Pynchon never lost me for a second in Paris and when he got back to Malta again, I was fully engaged

What the hell am I talking about, you might ask, if you haven't read this. (And probably you haven't??) The real appeal for most of this book for me was Benny Profane, who lived a life on equal with his wonderful name. Just out of the Navy, he spent 1956 in the Virginia naval world and in the New York City underworld, until he graduated to the Whole Sick Crew, a crowd of very hippie-like eccentric, entertaining and generally useless souls (and also Rachel). The other leg of the V-ish plot includes the travelogue above and tried every which way to shake me off the book. Herbert Stencil searches for V., a woman of his father's generation, but also many other undefined and generally unobtainable mysteries. He takes us through the travelogue above, generally, by recreating other peoples stories of V. Pynchon just tries too hard in the early parts of these sections. It feels like he's showing off and it's very hard to take him seriously or care. But it pays out in the end. Eventually I not only adored the tragic lady V. but then sat wondering about all the different variations that V might be. I'm still wondering, even as I know there is no answer...I hope there is no answer.

So a gem of sorts comes out of this sometimes charming, sometimes just all too smart tangled mess.

V, by the way, could be Valletta, Malta, or Vesuvius, or many other things, but notably also a V2 rocket, which connects this book firmly with Gravity's Rainbow (which I haven't read. This is my first book by Pynchon). The rocket gets one very subtle mention. But I took it and ran. My head thinks Pynchon is, in 1963 and before, fretting about the modern world and all its destructive technology, with V2 rocket standing in for a nuclear missile. Profane yo-yo's, but he frets everything inanimate and V gets progressively more and more inanimate herself as she loses an eye and a few limbs. Humans are building and building and killing everything and Pynchon is trying to make sense of it. But it's not that simple. So he was V and we wonder. Mind you, my head could be a bit high on some Benny (a slang term for Benzedrine, an amphetamine).

This is a quick a review. Maybe I should have taken more time and been more careful. I can see I missed more than I covered. But, these moods are temporary things. So, posting as is.

Here are some thoughts I have on the Thomas Pynchon book "V." here:
https://open.substack.com/pub/tosh/p/...

Countless reviewers, critics, Goodreads veterans have set about summarising and explaining V. Just about every review I’ve read is radically different from the others, and those reviews that set about focusing on the core of the book, seem to have chosen a different core each time.

Where there is consensus is that V. is a (long) novel that will likely defeat that reader who sets out to “understand” the book and who reads it microscopically. It’s best to go page by page, and accept that the coherent whole is an elusive beast.
A neat, and easily quoted line that has been taken up as the essence of the book is
“ keep cool but care “(406)
This is repeated shortly afterwards and accompanied by a computer entity (the SHROUD) who comments
“It’s a watchword” (409)

It’s my fourth Pynchon and my least favourite so far. It really was too disjointed for my comprehension. It’s probably a wonderful university study text, discussed with like minded students and with the time to carry on the debate outside the lecture theatre.
Some bits I liked (in no particular order, and more as a future memory jog)

•tPynchon character names, as ever. Superb names are matched to the eccentricities of the character. Of the one hundred plus names three of the leading protagonists give a full flavour: Rachel Owlglass, Pig Bovine, Benny Profane.

•tWho or what is V.? A leading character, Herbert Stencil- (rare for Pynchon; a character who is predominantly bland and rather dull) addresses the reader to confirm that V is the object of a search through the ages. It’s something for the reader to hang on to, and good luck with that, V is a literary square peg whose round hole never materialises. V is a great example of the literary McGuffin. Some V candidates in the book include Victoria Wren Veronica Manganese, Vera Meroving, Vheissu Venezuela, Vesuvius, Venus, Valletta, Veronica (a sewer rat).

•tHumour. Pynchon is the master of the non sequitur, and his characters consistently say or do something that is totally at odds with the initial impression they have given. Bovine the drooling beer addled slob who returns to lucidity with a question about Sartre’s theory of identity impersonation. Weissman the sadist who prances around in front of a mirror.

•tSome storylines stand alone as great (and largely comprehensible) short stories. They are alternately crazy madcap and horrifically shocking

- New York City alligator hunting

- Shale Schoenmaker, a plastic surgeon whose craft ( nose reconstruction, anybody?)we are witness to in fine detail (this reminded me of David Foster Wallace’s writing style)

-Kurt Mondaugen and the Herero wars in 1904-7. The first example of German mass extermination in south West Africa- a pre cursor to Pynchon’s longer description in  Gravitys Rainbow

-In the Navy. One straightforward, recurring set of events throughout the book is the antics of US navy personnel on shore leave. Given Pynchon’s personal experience in the navy, and of dock personnel, and given that he was only twenty six when he write this debut novel, it’s tempting to think that he was writing from first hand experience! That’s drunkenness, mass brawls, womanising and generally bad behaviour.

-Songs and verse.Pynchon does love to incorporate rhymes and revelry in song. It’s a welcome reminder that the book is there to be enjoyed.

- “Kilroy was here”. I always wondered what this meant; and now I know.

I felt pretty exhausted by the time I finished V. I would normally expect to pick up the flow of the book the further into it I progress. Not so here in which the final third, and the epilogue were more challenging than the first three hundred pages. Still, I look forward with relish to the next one after about twelve month’s recovery time!

3.5

Mis notas/guía de lectura para V., de Thomas Pynchon

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.

V *****
Τα γνωστά μοτίβα του Pynchon που θα τον κάνουν παγκόσμιο είναι εδώ. Ανακάτεμα χρονικο , τοπολογικό και ιστορικό της τράπουλας φέρνει συνεχόμενες κεντες , παρουσιάζοντας ένα ακόμα μωσαϊκό της περιφέρειας του κόσμου λίγο πριν κ λίγο μετά τους δύο πολέμους.
Το ανοίγεις τυχαία, διαβάζεις 50 σελίδες και παίρνεις ισχυρή ντόπα

Η Βεϊσού μπορεί να οριστεί ως ένα σύμπτωμα. Συμπτώματα σαν κι αυτό παραμένουν πάντοτε ζωντανά σε κάποιο σημείο του κόσμου.
Δεν έχουμε άλλο χρόνο να παραμείνουμε στη Βεϊσού