Yeah, that's also about as far as I got into Gravity's Rainbow. Dull, dull, book. Is there a law that celebrated prose needs to be pointless, wordy, unlikely, and dull?
Why yes, there is such a law. It is known as "The Law of the Times' Boring Book Editor." And it is sacred.
God, this is great. I've been feeling like a hopeless naif ever since Thomas Pynchon put me to sleep in the '60s.
After failing to stay awake through Ayn Rand and James Joyce, I just figured it was a lost cause.
I can remember reading (more like skimming on my part) a short story called "The Dead" by James Joyce in college freshman English. We were required to write an essay about some aspect of the story. Man, I was straining to get a single page out of the topic I chose, "Theme and Symbolism in The Dead". I got a "D", and a written scolding from the teacher on my returned paper saying, "Much too broad a topic about this story" (or something to that effect). Thank God I studied engineering. Why waste time on Thomas Pynchon when you can read something truly entertaining by, say, Pat Conroy ("Lords of Discipline">>>>>anything by Pynchon or Joyce).
That was well played, even if that book sucks.
Turgid; meandering; pendulous; full of neither sound nor fury, signifying nothing that isn't tugid, meandering, and pendulous.
(Look on my Oxford comma ye mighty and despair...)
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