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Never mind a slow apprenticeship

Molti anni fa avevo iniziato a leggere V. di Pynchon: il libro della molteplicità, come dicono certi critici. Un libro enorme, pieno di digressioni e divagazioni, descrizioni dettagliatissime a prima vista lontane dal flusso della storia, storie diverse intrecciate da un filo apparentemente casuale. Un intricato labirinto da cui non sono riuscita to go out and, in fact, to my great regret, the reading of that book was never completed.

Then, recently I came across by chance in a bookstore this year: the first collection of short stories with a lot of Pynchon's foreword to the author. And I thought it would be a good opportunity to make a more soft approach in which the author has created a break point in contemporary literature, before going back to the "sacred monster" V. But the feeling was the same: the same sense of inconclusiveness, again too many details, too many digressions, too many stories in history. Too bad, I can not to appreciate the diversity that seems to me just as confusing. Even the style is smooth, but does not seem to get anywhere. Finish a story and you do not have nothing left. Finish the book and you do not have nothing left. Only the preface, which is memorable.

Too bad ... I hope to have the right inspiration to tackle it again V. and to capture the power of that author that actually, for now, I sense only at a conceptual level.

Titolo: Un lento apprendistato
Autore: Thomas Pynchon
Edizioni: Einaudi