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V. (Perennial Classics) por Thomas Pynchon
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V. (Perennial Classics) (original 1963; edição 2005)

por Thomas Pynchon (Autor)

MembrosCríticasPopularidadeAvaliação médiaMenções
4,582311,791 (4.05)124
The wild, macabre tale of the twentieth century and of two men -- one looking for something he has lost, the other with nothing much to lose -- and "V.," the unknown woman of the title.
Membro:merriicat
Título:V. (Perennial Classics)
Autores:Thomas Pynchon (Autor)
Informação:Harper Perennial Modern Classics (2005), 560 pages
Colecções:Favoritos, Read
Avaliação:*****
Etiquetas:Nenhum(a)

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V. por Thomas Pynchon (1963)

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    Mountolive por Lawrence Durrell (WSB7)
    WSB7: For a treatment of, among other things, political intrigue in a Mediterranean area state circa WWII, but handled from a modernist vs. a postmodernist perspective.
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Inglês (25)  Francês (4)  Espanhol (1)  Holandês (1)  Todas as línguas (31)
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> V. : comme victoire, comme les vols d'oiseaux en formation serrée qui traversent l'horizon des personnages, ou V comme Victoria, Véronique, Véra, autant de figures féminines croisées au fil de l'œuvre ? C'est la question que se pose l'un des personnages, Herbert Stencil, depuis qu'il a repéré le fameux signe dans le journal intime de son père défunt. Mais c'est surtout un prétexte romanesque, qui nous entraîne dans une quête effrénée à travers les époques, les lieux, les gens. On passe sans transition du Caire à New York, d'une jeune juive qui désire un nouveau nez à un prêtre légendaire qui évangélise les rats dans les égouts… Ces pittoresques récits enchâssés inventent un monde magique, où tous les éléments se répondent dans notre imagination.
Dans ce premier roman, l'écrivain le plus secret de la littérature américaine donnait déjà toute la mesure de son talent, qui ne s'est jamais démenti au fil des textes trop rares qu'il publie de loin en loin. Son dernier opus, Mason & Dixon, en est l'ultime confirmation. --Karla Manuele, Amazon.fr

> Par Linternaute (Linternaute) : 50 livres à avoir lus absolument
11 mars 2010 - A la recherche de V.
L'histoire : Benny Profane est un ancien matelot de l'US Navy, il rencontre la Tierce des Paumés, un groupe d'artistes bohèmes, parmi lesquels Herbet Stencil. Ce dernier est à la recherche d'une entité appelée V. ...
Pourquoi faut-il l'avoir lu ? Pour l'incroyable voyage à travers le début du XXe siècle offert par Thomas Pynchon.
  Joop-le-philosophe | Jan 28, 2019 |
As Yogi Berra sort of said: “When you come to a V. in the road, take it!”

So I did.

But I wish Thomas Pynchon had found a way not to take any fork leading to the soporific Stencil, no matter which character so named paraded into view. Focus on Pig Bodine! Let McClintic Sphere preside! It’d be a different book and maybe a worse one, I guess, if my wishes had been anticipated and fulfilled. I don’t care.

That’s my only big complaint.

Mr. Pynchon is funny, imaginative, and knows way more than the average Yogi (be prepared to encounter obscurities). There’s much to hold one’s interest while reading his novel and V. inspires respect for the author’s abilities. It also can strain one’s patience. How many named characters are there, 200? How many of them mattered?

V. is a curious book that becomes curiouser as things go along. Then, it ends. Don’t count on finding full satisfaction in that. But for the right reader (one whom Stencil interests), V. might be a marvel. ( )
2 vote dypaloh | Aug 16, 2017 |
6. V.by Thomas Pynchon
published: 1963
format: 534 page Kindle e-book
acquired: Dec 25, 2015
listened: Dec 31 - Feb 11
Rating: 4½ stars

I know I should take more time and write out a more careful, and more thought-out review, one that actually captures all aspects of the book, but this just kind of poured out. And these moods are temporary things. So, posting as is - flaws and all.

I spent last night thinking about this book when I should have been sleeping. That's a far cry from where I was a few weeks ago, lost in Cairo and ready to toss the e-book...and where I was again in Florence. Namibia in 1922 was terribly disturbing, but I had to respect the effort. Malta was a bit slow too, in WWII, but had it's appeal. But Pynchon certainly never lost me for a second in Paris and when he got back to Malta again, I was fully engaged.

What the hell am I talking about, you might ask, if you haven't read this. (And probably you haven't ??) The real appeal for most of this book for me was Benny Profane, who lived a life on equal with his wonderful name. Just out of the Navy, he spent 1956 in the Virginia naval world and in the New York City underworld, until he graduated to the Whole Sick Crew, a crowd of very hippie-like eccentric, entertaining and generally useless souls (and also Rachel). The other leg of the V-ish plot includes the travelogue above and tried every which way to shake me off the book. Herbert Stencil searches for V., a woman of his father's generation, but also many other undefined and generally unobtainable mysteries. He takes us through the travelogue above by recreating other peoples stories of V. Pynchon just tries too hard in the early parts of these sections. It feels like he's showing off and it's very hard to take him seriously or care. But it pays out in the end. Eventually I not only adored the tragic lady V. but then sat wondering about all the different variations that V might be. I'm still wondering, even as I know there is no answer...I hope there is no answer.

So a gem of sorts comes out of this sometimes charming, sometimes just all too smart tangled mess.

V, by the way, could be Valletta, Malta, or Vesuvius, or many other things, but notably also a V2 rocket, which connects this book firmly with Gravity's Rainbow (which I haven't read. This is my first book by Pynchon). The rocket gets one very subtle mention. But I took it and ran. My head thinks Pynchon is, in 1963 and before, fretting about the modern world and all its destructive technology, with V2 rocket standing in for a nuclear missile. Profane yo-yo's, but he frets everything inanimate and V gets progressively more and more inanimate herself as she loses an eye and a few limbs. Humans are building and building and killing everything and Pynchon is trying to make sense of it. But it's not that simple. So he has V and we wonder. Mind you, my head could be a bit high on some Benny (a slang term for Benzedrine, an amphetamine).

2016
https://www.librarything.com/topic/209547#5471203 ( )
4 vote dchaikin | Feb 12, 2016 |
Kindred's Reading Challenge: #15 A book by Jonathan Franzen, David Foster Wallace or Thomas Pynchon
  LaMala | Jun 7, 2015 |
I've read four Pynchon books, and the only one I was healthy for was Lot 49, which barely counts. For Gravity's Rainbow I was not only violently ill, but also on a cross-country road trip with my also violently ill father and my long-suffering mother, who could do little more than look on while we fought over things like whether it was acceptable to order dessert. For Inherent Vice, I was recovering from having my wisdom teeth removed. And now for V, not only did I finish it with Hurricane Sandy knocking limbs from trees outside my windows, but I was at the depths of a comparatively mild cold.

The lesson is that one shouldn't read Pynchon when doped out on legal drugs, because all I remember of GR is an octopus, and I don't recall much from IV, either. On the other hand, I remember nothing from 49 despite having read it twice, and I suspect that's because it just isn't that good. This whole trend worries me some, but the good news is I won't be forgetting V any time soon, because it's a flat out masterpiece and, I suspect, better than GR.

'V,' in ascending order of abstraction, is a person with a robot eye, is a Utopia that large numbers of people think actually exists, probably stands for 'vagina' as in the source to which a large number of people wish to return, is a way of symbolizing reflection, either with reference to the mirror stage or reflection theories of vulgar materialism ('culture is simply the reflection of economics'), and is the convergence of two strands of the plot.

The two strands follow, respectively, Stencil, a paranoid obsessive, whose story should, according to the paranoid perspective, be perfectly coherent but is in fact an endless search for an indefinable x (V). The second follows a picaro (Profane the schlemihl) whose story, as with any good picaresque, should have no coherence whatsoever but is, in fact, a fairly good illustration of the twentieth century decadence ("falling away") that 'V' chronicles, and the despair that decadence can induce.

Various characters have various ways of coping with this decadence: different religions, art, drunkenness/hedonism, dentistry, and so on, but none of them can hold a candle to the disasters that follow everybody, like colonialism, war, unemployment, deracination and general ennui. The human beings slowly giving way: a nose job here, a belly ring there, becoming more and more object and less and less subject, more and more merely what "is the case" and less and less that which cannot be said(there's much play with early Wittgenstein here), more and more cyborg, less and live alive.

The two narrative strands converge in Malta; the guiding metaphor is siege (Malta, which was besieged by the Ottomans, French under Napoleon, and the Axis powers in World War II). The human being is under siege, and neither the paranoid truth seeker nor the schizoid schlemihl can cope. Those who can and do cope (e.g., Schoenmaker) are manifestly dehumanizing evil bastards. But the book's manic energy makes it much less depressing than this sounds, and after all, there's still wine, wo/men and song. Including song about Wittgenstein.

Books of which 'V' weirdly reminded me: Vile Bodies (decadence); Siege of Krishnapur (siege & colonialism); Graham Greene & Javier Marias for the spy thriller aspects; Roth for the 'Jews in America' aspects; Rilke for the ambivalent drive to become pure matter.

Many reviewers say this is a really hard book, but I think maybe they're over-reacting: once you know or work out that there are two narrative strands, one of which is 'present day' and one of which is historical narrative, you can make your way through this book pretty easily. Particularly if you eschew all the 'V moves through time' nonsense. V does not move through time. Stencil's paranoia connects a number of things that need not be connected, just as my paranoia has linked together many aspects of the novel. The difficult aspect of the novel is to read it not as another dull pomo pastiche, but as the late modern masterpiece it is, dealing with difficult psychological concepts and historical realities. You can only read this book with paranoia: the urge to connect and seek order. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. ( )
8 vote stillatim | Dec 29, 2013 |
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» Adicionar outros autores (22 possíveis)

Nome do autorPapelTipo de autorObra?Estado
Thomas Pynchonautor principaltodas as ediçõescalculated
Almansi, GuidoPrefácioautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Øverås, LinnTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Danzas, MinnieTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Fujita, S. NeilDesigner da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Grigorʹeva, GlebaTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Jelinek, ElfriedePosfácioautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Khanina, Aleksei︠a︡Tradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Kim, Sang-guTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Martín Ramírez, CarlosTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Natale, GiuseppeTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Penberthy, MarkArtista da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Stössel, DietrichTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Teichmann, WulfTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
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Christmas Eve, 1955, Benny Profane, wearing black Levi's, suede jacket, sneakers and big cowboy hat, happened to pass through Norfolk, Virginia.
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The wild, macabre tale of the twentieth century and of two men -- one looking for something he has lost, the other with nothing much to lose -- and "V.," the unknown woman of the title.

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