Reading Pynchon, or, how to make sense of a notoriously difficult writer

The promotional video clip for Thomas Pynchon's Inherent Vice (2009) opens up to a screaming guitar solo that catapults the viewer back into the 1960s. Pynchon, in the mildly self-ironic voice he reserves for his autobiographical texts, both introduces and endorses the book. To his mock-noir voice-over narrative, the video shows images of Manhattan Beach in Los Angeles, which is transformed in the novel into the fictional “Gordita Beach.” The video, which followed a number of earlier semi-public, mostly tongue-in-cheek appearances, is the latest indication that Pynchon has mellowed out some, become more laid back and less paranoid. Maybe the next time around, he will actually explain to us what it all means.

Critical flashback

Until then, however, we're left to wonder. In fact, since the publication of his first novel V. in 1963, word has been out that Pynchon is a notoriously difficult writer. What exactly does “difficult” mean in this context? First, Pynchon injects an incredible amount of often extremely arcane cultural knowledge into his novels. Second, Pynchon constantly modulates narrative voices and stylistic registers, which makes his texts eminently heteroglossic. Rhetorical modes move from his signature bad lyrics for imaginary songs to highly poetic descriptions, such as that of a Christmas Mass during World War II in Gravity's Rainbow (1973).