I apologise for taking so long in posting this Poolside Book Review of the TRP’s latest, Against the Day. It’s wicked long and I haven’t been spending all that much time reading. And I’ve spend the better part of today trying to figure out exactly how to express my reaction to the novel. I’ve decided to be blunt: I did not care for it.
It saddens to me to say this, but lil’ Michiko Kakutani’s review perfectly described Against the Day as:
[A] humongous, bloated jigsaw puzzle of a story, pretentious without being provocative, elliptical without being illuminating, complicated without being rewardingly complex.
Well, I disagree with the pretentious label, but everything else is spot on. When I first read the NY Times review, I was all like, “Nuts to this skank! She best not disrespect the TRP!” But I know realize that my pathetic fanboy excitement for the upcoming release of a new Pynchon novel overwhelmed what little reason I still possess. Michiko Kakutani was right. Thomas Pynchon finally wrote a cruddy novel.
As I mentioned before, I spent a good chunk of time today pondering Against the Day. I would breakdance for a while, then ponder, then breakdance and then ponder some more. I came up with two points of comparison for Against the Day: Tolkien novels and the Torque Bow in Gears of War.
Now don’t think for a minute that I intend to compare Tolkien and the TRP as writers. That’s pointless. Thomas Pynchon could shove a Mr. Sketch marker up his pee-hole and use it to craft a better paragraph than anything Tolkien could ever dream of writing. But reading Against the Day reminded me of reading a Tolkien novel. In Against the Day, like in a Tolkien novel, every fucking character has a seemingly interminable back story. It’s like reading the Bible.
The plot of Against the Day doesn’t really advance, it just sort of flops along aimlessly. I’m not going to argue that the TRP’s previous novels were shining examples of logical, Chekhovian plots that strictly adhered to most, if not all, of the Aristotelian unities, but the plots, for all their wacky meandering, were driven and focused by something, whether it be Slothrup’s questing through Europe in Gravity’s Rainbow or the historical sleuthing of the 37 characters named Stencil in V.. Against the Day lacks that minimal amount of focus, and it’s so damn disappointing.
Getting to the Torque Bow comparison, the torque bow is, like a Pynchon novel, supposed to be wicked awesome. When I first got one in Gears, I was all like “Shit yeah! Torque!” I’ve always wanted to use torque as a weapon against aliens and monsters. So few games feature torque as a weapon, so when I came across it in Gears (and in bow form, no less), I was bursting with anticipation. Just as I was prior to the release of Against the Day. However, disappointment soon followed. It’s just a bow with exploding arrows, and you have to expose yourself to open fire for too long to get off a full-powered shot. I quickly switched out the torque bow for my trusty shotgun.
You see, idiots, the torque bow is a symbol of an unfulfilled potential for awesomeness. The same could be said for Against the Day. It opens with the Chums of Chance, and the parts of the novel that features the Chums are all magnificent. Everything else, not so much. On my scale of one to five tiny sunbathing Ludivine Sagniers, I give Against the Day two tiny sunbathing Ludivine Sagniers. I suggest you check it out from your local library and give it a read, but only because it will make you appreciate the TRP’s other works so much more.
1) your blog does not render in IE 6, which work makes me use.
2) Pynchon is purposefully obtuse and i can’t understand how anyone would want to read him yet alone enjoy his writings.
3) ludivine sagnier (sp?) is hot.
1) I know, but I don’t particularly care. For me to get this theme (or any theme, for that matter) to render properly in IE6 (I believe it looks fine in IE7), I would have to manually resize the picture in the Jim J. Bullock square, rather than use a max-width: 100% in my CSS, which is the CSS that IE6 doesn’t recognize. That’s way too much work for this dumbass blog. So basically, I apologise for any inconvenience that your shitty out-of-date browser might be causing, but I have no intention of using some bullshit hack just to please the IE6 crowd.
2) Don’t badmouth the TRP. And Pynchon is far from obtuse. Finnegan’s Wake, now that’s fucking obtuse. And Pynchon, when he’s on his game, is an absolute joy to read. I can’t understand why people can’t understand just how awesome the TRP is.
3) Yes, yes she is.
Look, I like to be all lit-pretense as the next guy, but name a book i, or someone who doesn’t enjoy flaying himself for fun, could read. And Lot 49 doesn’t count.
Obtuse is not the right word. how about obscurantic? is that even a word?
help me, shawn. i have been reading nothing but female authors lately because by and large, male authors suck right now.
Christ man, at least have the decency to turn to the classic Greek tragedies before you taint your brain with female authors. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t say that, considering I was about to start reading Ann Radcliffe’s The Italian before I got Colin MacInnes’ City of Spades from Amazon today. I love it when free super saver shipping gets to my apartment as quickly at 2nd day air would. Amazon Prime can kiss my ass.
Addressing your Pynchon problem: Vineland is perfectly accessible and I don’t believe Mason & Dixon was all that tough a read. And honestly, Against the Day wasn’t anything close to obtuse or confusing. It was just boring and filled with aimless meandering. Now if you’re looking for a book that will get you away the hysterical literature you’ve been reading, I’d suggest the book I suggest to everyone when they ask me what they should be reading: Invitation to a Beheading, by Vladimir Nabokov.
…..but then again, all these stories seem to be about shoes and men and sex and living in Manhattan…..
I’ll check out yr Nabakov recommendation. And I’ll stick my nose in Vineland and Mason and Dixon next time i’m at the bookstore, but if i see so much as one wandering, meandering digression or a sudden unexplained POV change designed specifically to confuse the reader, i’m calling the cops.
I feared you were about to spring a Delillo on me, for which i would have had to suspend your Ludivine posting rights.
I’ve read more DeLillo than I’d care to admit, but I will say that I enjoyed the prologue to Underworld and White Noise. However, I’m willing to conceed that DeLillo is probably the most overrated of all the so-called “post-modern” American authors. Well, Philip Roth is probably up there too. God, how I hate Philip Roth.