Against the Day, by Thomas Pynchonby Todd Natti |
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Thomas Pynchon’s new novel, Against the Day, is a big book, clocking in at 1,085 pages. Perhaps a better word to describe it would be “difficult.” It’s a word that seems to work both for Pynchon (I challenge anyone not to call “difficult” a man who sends comedian Irwin Corey to accept the National Book Award on his behalf) and even better for his novels, which recently prompted Time magazine to state: “Ordinary novelists have readers. Thomas Pynchon has decoders.” |
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House of Meetings, by Martin Amisby Laura Nathan |
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If Martin Amis’ newest novel, House of Meetings, is any indication, the confessional letter still has literary merit. Written to the unnamed narrator’s so-called stepdaughter, Venus, House of Meetings reminds us of one of the letter’s purposes: to convey the “truth,” or at least those aspects of ourselves we are incapable of articulating face-to-face, over the phone, or even via e-mail, when the possibility of an immediate response leaves our stomachs in knots. |