Well, yesterday was April Fool's Day...I did not get fooled. Or maybe I was. Perhaps there was some sort of meta-foolery going on, which I won't see until years later, and suddenly I'll wake up with a strange light in my eyes, the dawn of a new understanding of what They'd done, with profound regret and a sense of loss at the dialectic of my personal history, vis-a-vis the V2 Rocket. As you might have guessed, I just finished up Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow , and my brain is still recovering from the massive effort. It took me a month to read the damn thing. I've read Russian novels in less time. I actually picked it up more on a personal dare than anything else; Gravity's Rainbow is considered the Quintessential Postmodern Novel (at least by Wikipedia ) . It's one of the "Big Three" of modern literature/college Lit courses, the other two being Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace and Ulysses by James Joyce. Being a...
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