My entire familiarity with Thomas Pynchon comes from a tiny moment in The OC, which mentions him as an American author of magical realism. At the time, I was reading The Tin Drum at school and thought I was quite into magical realism, so I mentally bookmarked Thomas Pynchon as an interesting author. Somewhere along the line, I must have heard that he was also intimidating, and a university Magical Realism module stripped me of the idea that I was into it… So when book club nominated Inherent Vice, it’s fair to say I wasn’t all that excited.
Inherent Vice has been described as ‘dicklit’, and Doc Sportello is certainly both a ‘private dick’ and one of those male characters who likes to keep the reader up-to-date about the current condition of his penis. If knowing how aroused a POV character is by every woman he encounters turns you off, Inherent Vice is probably not for you. The same is doubly true of hearing about drug trips, which are peppered through the narrative — usually just at the point when things are otherwise getting interesting.
“You mustn’t judge Osgood too harshly,” advised a voice to which Time, if it had not exactly been kind, had at least contributed some texture.
Inherent Vice, Thomas Pynchon
Thomas Pynchon fields a massive cast of characters who are not always easy to keep track of, especially as they mostly seem fairly superficial and exist solely in relation to how they can help Doc Sportello out with his sleuthing. The exceptions are Coy and Hope Harlingen, Shasta and Bigfoot Bjornsen. To keep track of the rest of the band-members, gang-members, limo-drivers and drug-doers, there’s a PDF character index which could be really helpful!
Unfortunately, struggling to remember who’s who in a detective story makes it hard to engage with the very premise. It’s difficult to piece clues together when you can’t remember whether it’s Xandra or Zirconia in the dentist’s waiting room with the cocaine. Doc does solve some parts of the mystery, but they’re all so sprawling and interconnected that they don’t feel satisfying.
There are good moments, but they’re usually digressions from the plot. There was some potential magical realism going on with the sinking of Lemuria which was enjoyable to read, and similarly a tangent about the replacement of fictional private investigators with pro-cop police procedurals still felt relevant.
Overall, Pynchon’s prose wasn’t as daunting as you might expect, but this particular novel wasn’t a hit.
Chalk Letters Books 