Pynchon...

I find it alarming that although I see the strangeness of the names of the characters and the odd statements that they make and yet I don't think to look into it more. Why? I’m not sure maybe because I am so focused on detangling what I am reading that I do not take the opportunity to let it soak in, or it could be the fact that I am more occupied with what prompted the writer to even write this. Once again I am intrigued not by the work but by the reasoning behind it. I would never find myself sitting in a room thinking of such things, so why? Does this man find it so inspiring to write such a novel? Is it fun or is it an artistic statement? In some ways I envy someone that can sit and produce a novel with so much thought and passion behind what they are trying to write. When I can barely commit to writing a blog, or finishing, even starting a passion I may have.