But traipsing through Bleeding Edge, Pynchon’s latest novel, one notices that we only brush by the ragged blind energy of Pynchon’s early work. Gone are Tom’s four-day lease-breaking parties that end in drug-laced epiphanies, drunken Navymen howling for hoorhouses, meditations on heat-death… Now his protagonists would rather skip the whole orgy thing, order take-out, and put on an old Bette Davis movie.
I can only write book reviews on ships headed nowhere. Fortunately, I kept Marisha Pessl’s newest novel Night Film in tow. I was intrigued at the author’s switch to literary mystery, her first novel (Special Topics In Calamity Physics) being a foot soldier in the Dave-Eggers-Jonathan-Safron-Foer Clever Army.