5/5 stars
As ever with Pynchon, I loved it even while I struggled to get into it at first. Episodic, confusing, beautifully written, dreamlike, near impossible to follow, and definitely deserving to be re-read – it was only with a passage on page 610(!) that my inability to keep track of what it all meant started to make sense, as Mason speculates to his companion about the purpose and meaning of the titular duo’s lengthy mission into the American wilderness:
“None of this may be about either you or me. Our story may lie rather behind and ahead… never here in the Present, upon the Line, whose true Drama belongs to others… and when ’tis all done I shall only return to Shapperton, no wiser, and someday wake up and not know if any of this’ happen’d,’ or if I merely dream’d it, even this very moment, Dixon, which I know is real…”
Dixon’s response to this may be that of many when approaching this book: “Oh dear…?”
It certainly won’t be to everyone’s taste, but a postmodern 18th century pastiche was never going to be. Hell, if the first sentence hasn’t put you off, you’ve got no excuse not to make it to the end, I say. At which point you’ll want to return to try it again, to try and understand the bits you missed the first time around:
“Snow-Balls have flown their Arcs, starr’d the Sides of Outbuildings, as of Cousins, carried Hats away into the brisk Wind off Delaware,-the Sleds are brought in and their Runners carefully dried and greased, shoes deposited in the back Hall, a stocking’d-foot Descent made upon the great Kitchen, in a purposeful Dither since Morning, punctuated by the ringing Lids of various Boilers and Stewing-Pots, fragrant with Pie-Spices, peel’d Fruits, Suet, heated Sugar,-the Children, having all upon the Fly, among rhythmic slaps of Batter and Spoon, coax’d and stolen what they might, proceed, as upon each afternoon all this snowy Advent, to a comfortable Room at the rear of the House, years since given over to their carefree Assaults.”
Glorious stuff.