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Bang.

Possibly the greatest thing is a mad Brazilian chef stumbling tragically through a hotel kitchen, searching for his stolen machine gun. Or: a strange girl in a dead end town, sweet talking her car before the full seduction begins. Names like Benny Profane and Rachel Owlglass. It's a slow read but highly enjoyable (so far): Thomas Pynchon's V.

Working away at something, don't know what, but it gets more real everyday. I sat in the ghetto coffeeshop scribbling sentences this morning.

Comments (2)

Joy:

There was this huge, widely believed rumour, in the 80s I think, that Pynchon and J.D. Salinger were actually the same person. Salinger was a recluse who wrote but refused to publish; Pynchon refused to be interviewed or photographed -- he had no driver's permit because he wouldn't let them take his picture for it. A lot of articles were written about the possibility, but I think it was eventually disproved ...

ben:

Pynchon shows up a lot on the Simpsons for some reason, including an episode where he promises to include a recipe that Lisa makes in his "Gravity's Rainbow Cookbook," next to the recipe for the Frying of Latke 49.

This is the same episode where Marge looks in awe at a schmancy super-kitchen and proclaims: "This must be what Virginia Woolf meant when she was talking about a woman needing a room of her own!"

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