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adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
It is difficult to say for certain if the five-star review will withstand a second reading--but we won't know that until I subject myself to it that second time. Fortunately for me, it has gone back to its "last in line" position for at least a little while.
First, the obvious stuff: this is the kind of novel that makes "Top N" lists of all kinds (formal and less so) and is widely regarded as a masterpiece among postmodern masterpieces. It's transgressive in a number of different ways--fucking with sexuality; history and modernity and futurism; politics and anarchy; mysticism and science; u.s.w.--all on its celebratory-romping exploration of annihilation on every possible scale. It's surreal and impenetrable and referential and still somehow an engaging read. But as I look back over my notes, I'm struck by a few of my own status updates:
And:
And:
But also:
And the emergent theme of my own reading experience was definitely an academic or collegient one. The kind of book where an upper-division English class of like 6 or 7 students sits around in a circle wanking over its references and allusions and going on at great length about its influence on other, more recent works. And this isn't necessarily a Bad Thing--this is part of what Gravity's Rainbow Intends to Be. But given how I am so quick to compare it (in my mind at least) to Infinite Jest, therein lies an important difference--Infinite Jest may be surreal and absurd and referential and seemingly impenetrable, but it is also colloquial and demotic in a way that Gravity's Rainbow is not. But this is an unfair comparison.
So then... what's with the five-star review? Because despite its impermeable nature, this novel--however dense, however exclusive--really does seem to accomplish what it sets out to discuss, and from every angle I could think of. And though much of it was lost on me (as a reader's guide was recommended to me, so do I recommend one to you), there is a gripping and tangled enough tale in here to keep one engaged with the prose and its narrative. (A prurient nature helps, too.)
------
See also:
• 10 Science Fiction Novels You Pretend to Have Read (And Why You Should Actually Read Them) at io9
First, the obvious stuff: this is the kind of novel that makes "Top N" lists of all kinds (formal and less so) and is widely regarded as a masterpiece among postmodern masterpieces. It's transgressive in a number of different ways--fucking with sexuality; history and modernity and futurism; politics and anarchy; mysticism and science; u.s.w.--all on its celebratory-romping exploration of annihilation on every possible scale. It's surreal and impenetrable and referential and still somehow an engaging read. But as I look back over my notes, I'm struck by a few of my own status updates:
Inappropriate analogies: Pynchon is like Neal Stephenson channelling Kurt Vonnegut doing an impression of George Orwell after having dinner with Philip K. Dick.
And:
Last night I dreamed that Slothrop was at a party with Bobby Shaftoe, both of them hitting on Juliana Frink.
And:
"It's like Neal Stephenson was writing a remix of Dhalgren for a class taught by Kurt Vonnegut?"
But also:
Well that last bit read like it was written by a horny college sophomore that just got introduced to absurdism.
And the emergent theme of my own reading experience was definitely an academic or collegient one. The kind of book where an upper-division English class of like 6 or 7 students sits around in a circle wanking over its references and allusions and going on at great length about its influence on other, more recent works. And this isn't necessarily a Bad Thing--this is part of what Gravity's Rainbow Intends to Be. But given how I am so quick to compare it (in my mind at least) to Infinite Jest, therein lies an important difference--Infinite Jest may be surreal and absurd and referential and seemingly impenetrable, but it is also colloquial and demotic in a way that Gravity's Rainbow is not. But this is an unfair comparison.
So then... what's with the five-star review? Because despite its impermeable nature, this novel--however dense, however exclusive--really does seem to accomplish what it sets out to discuss, and from every angle I could think of. And though much of it was lost on me (as a reader's guide was recommended to me, so do I recommend one to you), there is a gripping and tangled enough tale in here to keep one engaged with the prose and its narrative. (A prurient nature helps, too.)
------
See also:
• 10 Science Fiction Novels You Pretend to Have Read (And Why You Should Actually Read Them) at io9
There are people who will claim that this novel has meaning. They are wrong. The only meaning of this novel is to exemplify the chaotic unpredictability of unguided momentum resulting in the destruction of form.
The challenging thing about critiquing a "postmodern" book is that you may have to face the fact that absence of narrative cohesion and layoff, absence of consistent characterisation, or lack of unifying moral lesson, may in fact be the very point of the book. If the book's theme is to portray the meaninglessness and directionless chaos inherent in life, then it's hollow to point out that Slothrop was barely even a personality, that most characters had no clear aims or goals beyond impulse, and that the grand "conspiracy" was no more than the direction of varied self-motivated actors. Sure, that's life. Now here's 900 pages of characterless, directionless, meaningless, meandering, rambling chaos.
By page 200, the close of Episode 1, I was really struggling. This is harder than Ulysses, although I certainly got lost in parts there, as well. The narrative often jumps perspectives between characters, between long-past reminiscences, and between fantasies and daydreams, usually unannounced. I'm left wondering if this actually adds to the work; could not the same message, themes, impressions be communicated just as (or more) effectively if more signposting was to occur?
What is most frustrating is that the content of the novel, from historical setting, the conspiratorial, esoteric, lampoonish, all should coalesce to a novel almost perfectly curated for my tastes. But the novel never coalesced into an actual form that I enjoyed reading.
Part 2 certainly takes its foot off the gas a bit, with coherence put to forefront. Even when reading content and subjects which should hook me, I'm still waiting for the shoe to drop, but the reading itself is less enjoyable than perfunctory, waiting for a climax I'm increasingly doubtful will deliver.
At some point nearly 2/3rds through the book, Slothrop begins wondering where he is going, noticing that he has become a stranger to his Jamf, Imipolex, SG1 conspiracy. This immediately reminded me of Severian in book 4 of Gene Wolfe's New Sun, where he reached the frontlines of a war he just blithely wandered into without purpose or intent. If the protagonist has no drive to continue, why should we?
What rescues this impression is the depiction of the "anti-paranoia", where nothing is connected and there is no overarching plot. It is very fitting for the No-Man's "Zone"; a nation without a government, occupied by allies-turned-rivals. It's a void of meaning in Europe; a vacuum following a purposeful war.
Is Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow pretentious? There is so much tacked onto this story, from romanticised ballistic mathematics and ritualised polymer creation to post-colonial alternative history, to German silent film era (to 70s B-horror) references, pharmacohallucionogenic culture, at times the book feels like a rickety frame barrelling downhill with a thousand things tacked onto it, giving it a mass and momentum it can't sustain.
"The shift between propulsion and guidance, and the exhaustion of propulsion at Brennschluss." Tying into "anti-paranoia", there is this notion that after an energetic catalyst, events are carried not by a system of guidance or control, but reach the "Brennschluss point" where propulsion is exhausted and uncontrollable chaotic variables each act on the object, which is now committed to it's trajectory: Gravity's Rainbow.
From the Slow Learner podcast, I've learned that this book's composition predated the widespread knowledge of several topics, including MK Ultra (revealed to the public two years later, but it's likely Pynchon personally knew some participants), the Herero genocide, the recreational use of certain drugs (such as dextromethorphan, of which GR is the first published example of the "Robo-high").
At times it seems silly that Pynchon decided upon fictional literature as a vehicle for all this encyclopaedic knowledge, and I so often feel that his narrative creativity actively handicaps the delivery of information.
Even three quarters into the book, there are pages or even entire paragraphs where the words pass under my eyes and I don't comprehend a single thing about them. It isn't quite like Joyce, who occasionally uses clever nonsense to distort a passage and lose the reader, but these are grammatically correct passages that have nearly no meaning to me until I read a summary afterwards, and recognise the pieces I wasn't able to grasp before. It makes for a notoriously frustrating read, as the reading itself is often devoid of reward.
As the final chapter admits: "no clear happiness or redeeming cataclysm".
The challenging thing about critiquing a "postmodern" book is that you may have to face the fact that absence of narrative cohesion and layoff, absence of consistent characterisation, or lack of unifying moral lesson, may in fact be the very point of the book. If the book's theme is to portray the meaninglessness and directionless chaos inherent in life, then it's hollow to point out that Slothrop was barely even a personality, that most characters had no clear aims or goals beyond impulse, and that the grand "conspiracy" was no more than the direction of varied self-motivated actors. Sure, that's life. Now here's 900 pages of characterless, directionless, meaningless, meandering, rambling chaos.
By page 200, the close of Episode 1, I was really struggling. This is harder than Ulysses, although I certainly got lost in parts there, as well. The narrative often jumps perspectives between characters, between long-past reminiscences, and between fantasies and daydreams, usually unannounced. I'm left wondering if this actually adds to the work; could not the same message, themes, impressions be communicated just as (or more) effectively if more signposting was to occur?
What is most frustrating is that the content of the novel, from historical setting, the conspiratorial, esoteric, lampoonish, all should coalesce to a novel almost perfectly curated for my tastes. But the novel never coalesced into an actual form that I enjoyed reading.
Part 2 certainly takes its foot off the gas a bit, with coherence put to forefront. Even when reading content and subjects which should hook me, I'm still waiting for the shoe to drop, but the reading itself is less enjoyable than perfunctory, waiting for a climax I'm increasingly doubtful will deliver.
At some point nearly 2/3rds through the book, Slothrop begins wondering where he is going, noticing that he has become a stranger to his Jamf, Imipolex, SG1 conspiracy. This immediately reminded me of Severian in book 4 of Gene Wolfe's New Sun, where he reached the frontlines of a war he just blithely wandered into without purpose or intent. If the protagonist has no drive to continue, why should we?
What rescues this impression is the depiction of the "anti-paranoia", where nothing is connected and there is no overarching plot. It is very fitting for the No-Man's "Zone"; a nation without a government, occupied by allies-turned-rivals. It's a void of meaning in Europe; a vacuum following a purposeful war.
Is Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow pretentious? There is so much tacked onto this story, from romanticised ballistic mathematics and ritualised polymer creation to post-colonial alternative history, to German silent film era (to 70s B-horror) references, pharmacohallucionogenic culture, at times the book feels like a rickety frame barrelling downhill with a thousand things tacked onto it, giving it a mass and momentum it can't sustain.
"The shift between propulsion and guidance, and the exhaustion of propulsion at Brennschluss." Tying into "anti-paranoia", there is this notion that after an energetic catalyst, events are carried not by a system of guidance or control, but reach the "Brennschluss point" where propulsion is exhausted and uncontrollable chaotic variables each act on the object, which is now committed to it's trajectory: Gravity's Rainbow.
From the Slow Learner podcast, I've learned that this book's composition predated the widespread knowledge of several topics, including MK Ultra (revealed to the public two years later, but it's likely Pynchon personally knew some participants), the Herero genocide, the recreational use of certain drugs (such as dextromethorphan, of which GR is the first published example of the "Robo-high").
At times it seems silly that Pynchon decided upon fictional literature as a vehicle for all this encyclopaedic knowledge, and I so often feel that his narrative creativity actively handicaps the delivery of information.
Even three quarters into the book, there are pages or even entire paragraphs where the words pass under my eyes and I don't comprehend a single thing about them. It isn't quite like Joyce, who occasionally uses clever nonsense to distort a passage and lose the reader, but these are grammatically correct passages that have nearly no meaning to me until I read a summary afterwards, and recognise the pieces I wasn't able to grasp before. It makes for a notoriously frustrating read, as the reading itself is often devoid of reward.
As the final chapter admits: "no clear happiness or redeeming cataclysm".
I'm just not sure what to make of this one. At times I thought it was hilarious, at times it was poetic, but mostly it just kept me scratching my head. If the final section had some kind of closure, or at least added a little clarity I would have concluded that the time I spent reading this book was worth it. Pynchon has convinced me that he's wildly intelligent and creative; I'm just not sure I care...
Finally did it. Genuinely a work of genius, and unlike anything else I’ve ever read.
Forever one of the books I love (and hate, and struggle with, and am enthralled by, repulsed by, confused by, amazed by) the most. It hit at a really particular moment for me and shaped, on some atomic level, the way I think a sentence should work and sound. One of the first books I remember putting down and thinking that my idea of what a book could do and be was fundamentally changed. It's also very funny and often extremely troubling.
What to say ... well, there is some amazing writing, and not shockingly, this famously dense book does feel like a slog much of the time. Highly sexual, very humorous, good, I guess.
Gravity's Rainbow is an anti-war story centered around the German V-2 rocket and a weaponized penis. Yep. The first couple hundred pages are the hardest then you can drop into the flow of Pynchon and might enjoy his unique, distinct language. Every page has a story, it's wild.
Not my favorite book. Not a friendly book. Maybe written by an alien? Flashes of genius, I think. Read it, or don't. In the time it takes you could enjoy five bona fide great books, so there is that consideration. Can see people loving or hating this book...it wore me out but I liked it.
Gravity's Rainbow is an anti-war story centered around the German V-2 rocket and a weaponized penis. Yep. The first couple hundred pages are the hardest then you can drop into the flow of Pynchon and might enjoy his unique, distinct language. Every page has a story, it's wild.
Not my favorite book. Not a friendly book. Maybe written by an alien? Flashes of genius, I think. Read it, or don't. In the time it takes you could enjoy five bona fide great books, so there is that consideration. Can see people loving or hating this book...it wore me out but I liked it.
challenging
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
Relentlessly dark and pornographic. Some great passages denouncing war and man's immorality to man but quite a slog. I don't care for the whole bawdy WW2, pop culture, old movie thing. I liked Mason and Dixon much better. In fact reading Gravity's Rainbow tanked my ability to read anything more difficult than some great space operas for awhile.