V. and Vienna

by Carson Reynolds

Last weekend I went to Vienna for a look about. If I told you all that happened you wouldn’t believe me. Suffice it to say that it was certainly the best weekend I’ve had in a year.

I nearly finished Thomas Pynchon’s V. on the flight back. The book has been haunting me for the better part of a year. I started it before starting having to finish innumerable books for my generals. Then I decided to read Time of Our Singing, which went down easy. All the while V. has been mysteriously lurking in the background, unfinished. It shall not escape the next attempt. The book itself is astonishing.

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