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Thomas Pynchon is the author of V., The Crying of Lot 49, Gravity's Rainbow, Slow Learner, a collection of short stories, Vineland, Mason and Dixon, Against the Day, Inherent Vice and, most recently, Bleeding Edge. He received the National Book Award for Gravity's Rainbow in 1974.
Thomas Pynchon, America’s greatest novelist, has written the
greatest novel about the most significant events in his country’s
21st century history. It is unequivocally a masterpiece.
*Scotsman*
It’s dense, complex and riotously, ridiculously funny.
*Esquire*
The looming shadow of 9/11 touches every page. Nonetheless, many of
those pages are outrageously funny, others are sexy, touchingly
domestic, satirical or deeply mysterious. All are brilliantly
written in Pynchon’s characteristically revved-up, even slightly
over-revved style – a joy to read… Swarms with amazing characters…
Full of verbal sass and pizzazz, as well as conspiracies within
conspiracies, Bleeding Edge is totally gonzo, totally wonderful. It
really is good to have Thomas Pynchon around, doing what he does
best.
*Washington Post*
Bleeding Edge, Pynchon’s eighth novel, is the best and most
surprising thing he’s written since those great books… The jokes in
this novel, incidentally, are superb, with the comic tone perhaps a
career high point.
*Telegraph*
Part thriller, part detective story, it’s a vibrant portrait of a
city on the cusp of change.
*Sunday Telegraph*
[Pynchon’s] eighth novel is something of a return to form, and
could well be his best since his comeback… Offers a winning
heroine, scintillating screwball dialogue and a typical host of
weird, zany or depraved characters, this time corralled into a
tighter-than-usual plot.
*Sunday Times*
Entropic in its plottery and joyously paranoid in its world view…
My advice: read it, but don’t try to follow it. It’ll make you
giddy.
*The Times*
There’s plenty of space within the pattern for Pynchon’s trademark
digressions…songs, terrible puns…and some magnificent set
pieces.
*Financial Times*
Though Bleeding Edge doesn’t stint on leftish theorizing about
far-right misdeeds, it also gives the sense that for the first time
Pynchon is looking at things from a very great height, as a battle
between toy soldiers.
*New Statesman*
The new novel by the reclusive Pynchon is set in New York in 2001
and follows a fraud investigator who takes on more than she
bargains for when she checks out a billionaire internet tycoon.
*Mail on Sunday*
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