Rating: 
Summary: Pynchon at his tricky best
Review: Thomas Pynchon is perhaps the most complex contemporary American author. He is a complete recluse, and his novels brim with more obscure popular culture, scientific theories, conspiracy theories, and classical allusions that just about anyone else. I recently took another look at my old copy of this novel, after critic Harold Bloom selected it as one of the best novels of the century. This is not a "tight" novel. There are a lot of loose ends, and the conclusion is puropsely vague so as to encourage the reader to devise his own ending. Without giving away too much, the novel concerns Oedipa Mass, a woman whose world is shaken by her discovery that she has been chosen as executor of her ex-boyfriend's will. This sets her on a mini-odysset through California trying to discover the reason why she is at the center of a plot much bigger than her ex-boyfriend's will. It is a fascinating novel. The reason this novel gets four stars and not five is simply because, at the end of the novel, I always feel as if there's something I've missed, as if Chapter five fell out of Pynchon's manuscript before he handed it to his publisher. Perhaps that's just an aspect of his post-modern mysteriousness. Despite this, this is a novel I re-read. That is, perhaps, the best recommendation a person can give a novel . . .
Rating: 
Summary: Pynchon at his most accessible- a funny postmodern joy
Review: In Crying of Lot 49, we join Oedipa Maas on a journey for the Truth about the Tristero. As Justin Carroll correctly points out in his review, Pynchon sets us (and Oedipa) up to expect a major revelation. However, I felt that the journey towards this Truth is the important and interesting part of the book. Through the central metaphors of entropy and layered, constructed, interpreted works of art, Pynchon explores the possibility for Truth, meaning and reality when it becomes impossible to separate oneself from the system being explored. I found Crying of Lot 49 to be an extremely enjoyable read. It is not an easy read, and it demanding my thought and attention. However, Pynchon's mastery of language makes it an engaging and fun read. Also, I found it to be much more accessible than V., Gravity's Rainbow, and Mason&Dixon- I could actually sit down and read Crying of Lot 49 without feeling I needed help. I strongly encourage any fans of Vonnegut or Catch-22 (I haven't read any other Heller) to check out Crying of Lot 49, as well as anyone who is looking to read a first Pynchon book.
Rating: 
Summary: Doubtfully a Perennial Classic For Much Longer
Review: It is very likely that to get the most out of THE CRYING OF LOT 49 one should read it through more than once or twice. This is true of many of the best novels, but Pynchon's 1965 hit would have to be more compelling on the first read to warrant further examination. There's a lot going on in this short novel, but not much to care about, despite the mystery of the "Tristero," a band of secret and ancient European marauders that exist to destroy private postal routes (do you think they had anything to do with that UPS strike a couple of years back?). Our heroine is Oedipa Maas, but she betrays no indication of swollen feet or patricidal tendencies. She and her ancient royal namesake do, however, share the same flaw of HAVING to know the truth, however much damage it does to them. Oedipa at least gets to keep her eyes, for all the good they do her. See--just keep peeling back the layers and there might be something grand to this book after all. Oedipa is launched on the Tristero mystero by the last will and testament of her ex-boyfriend (Pierce Inverarity--dust off your old Latin primers) which names her co-executrix. This requires a trip to "San Narciso"--cute, especially when one of the first things she does there is break a looking glass. And we're off and flying around the room like the aerosol can that shatters the mirror. Pynchon likes to have fun with character names, too (I kept picturing Oedipa's husband Mucho Maas as Roberto Duran--not fair to the author as Sugar Ray Leonard must still have been in high school when this book was written): Dr. Hilarius, Genghis Cohen, Mike Fallopian, all pretty rich. So we know we're dealing with something on a different plane, or, considering the amount of LSD and Jack Daniels in the book, a different trip. I'm all for stylized prose, and Pynchon is certainly no slouch at turning a phrase--but the overall effect seems more obfuscatory than revealing of much insight into human nature or the early-sixties California lifestyle. His characters are acid-paper cut-outs and the plot left me not as interested as I wanted to be by the end. The parts of THE CRYING OF LOT 49 are greater than the whole, but perhaps that's the point.
Rating:
Summary: Inventive and Funny
Review: Pynchon seems to rub many readers here the wrong way, but I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. 'Lot 49' makes us reconsider what a novel is capable of - it helps push some of the limits of a genre that has become banal so often nowadays. Pynchon's book overflows with a mixture of references to science and pop culture, and manages to weave them into all a wonderful fabric that wraps around Oedipa's search for the truth and order in her world. Conspiracy and intimation are central threads in the fabric, and the connection between ideas as disparate as Maxwell's Demon and a gay bar in California lead us to wonder what all the bits and pieces of our lives might add up to (if anything). If you're interested in a standard novel that does not ask you to consider anything more than a few plot turns, then perhaps 'Lot 49' would not be the best book for you. But if you'd like to be taken on a ride to places that other books might not have taken you before, by all means pick up Pynchon's witty and intelligent take on 20th century America - and hold on tight...
Rating:
Summary: The Crying of Lot 49
Review: Because her husband is chasing after young girls and because her psychiatrist is tripping on LSD, Oedipa ends up turning to strangers for help in finding the "Tristero." She does not know what the "Tristero" is, or even if it exists, but since it is connected to her ex-boyfirend, Pierce, and since she feels trapped in her normal life she decides to search all over California for evidence of the "Tristero." As Oedipa tries to make sense of all the evidence she has she ends up growing more isolated and paranoid. She wonders if it is some grand scheme against her set up by Pierce. She feels more evidence should lead to the truth, whereas the book shows it only makes her increasingly confused. The book leads to the point where Oedipa has two choices: continue looking for the truth of the "Tristero" or give up and go insane. The novel is on the short side being only 152 pages, and some could probably be omitted. Many scenes are there to confuse the reader just as Oedipa becomes increasingly confused. There are different scenes that repeat the same point 4 or 5 times (e.g. more information leads to confusion, there are only 2 choices with no gray area). The novel ends with Oedipa still in her search for the "Tristero." If you like a novel with complete closure, and if you like to know what happened to all the characters, then this is not the novel for you. I gave this novel 3 stars because there were enjoyable scenes, and I do agree with some of the points and ideas Pynchon brings up in this satire. However, I am not fond of the repetitiveness and lack of closure.
Rating:
Summary: Call me the online ape.
Review: I didn't much care for this book. I felt it was bland, believe it or not. It was a fairly challenging read, yes, and it had a few redeeming ideas. But what disturbs me the most is the idea that if you don't like this book you're some TV gorged ape or other simian counterpart. The types of people who tell me that I don't like this book because I possess not the lofty intellect to appreciate it, are the same types who tell me I am racist for not liking "The Invisible Man," or I am sexist for not enjoying Sylvia Plath in general. As the "Great Writers Are Not to Blame for Your Lack of Education," guy stated that he feared complaints that some novels are too challenging would lead to "The Dumbing Down of America," I fear the uglier problem at hand is the inability of a person to state his/her opinion without being assailed as some sort of saboteur to a school of theory or line of thinking.
Rating: 
Summary: Pynchon has fun at our expense
Review: I agree with the reviewer who is troubled by the idea that you have to be "Educated" in order to get certain books. I felt in reading this book that one had to be "hip" to Pynchon's "jive" to have a prayer of enjoying it. He presents us with a labyrinthine plotline filled with hipsters, weirdos and satire descended from the beatniks, all of which, ultimately, does not deliver anything close to a profound conclusion. It's as if Pynchon sets the reader up for a revelation and then, poof, there is no revelation, the revelation is made of feathers and dandelion puffs. Which left me feeling as though Pynchon is simply having fun at the reader's expense, weaving elaborate, dense, and bizarre language with very little substance. And the hijinx, while sometimes funny, aren't entertaining enough to sustain the weight of it all. This book is ultimately Dada-ist, which in my opinion is bad enough, but worse, it doesn't mean to be. It means to be profound and witty and elegantly irreverent. Please. Spare me the self-important novelist's language games. To be fair, I would try reading V or Gravity's Rainbow to see how it compared with this novel, since his use of language and insight are quite brilliant at times. But as for this book, whew. What a let-down.
Rating: 
Summary: I Wanted to Like Pynchon
Review: But boy, this book just turned me off completely. I take the point of the reader who wrote the review "Great Writers Are Not to Blame for Your Lack of Education", but I also believe that one should feel free to say, "I just didn't like it" and not have to worry about having your intelligence or lack thereof implicated. Having said that-- the character names; silly. Plot development; nonexistent. Characters; flat flat flat. This is all purely my opinion-- I'm definitely more of a classics reader. But I did get an education, and continue to educate myself, so I don't feel too bad about not liking Pynchon. And I think I may still give Gravity's Rainbow a try, you never know...
Rating:
Summary: Swimming in Jello
Review: This is a good book. While short, it is dense reading, but not in a bad way. You read it close & the words envelope you like a sweet smelling smoke. It pricks & nags @ you beneath your scalp & inside your heart. Some of the prose leaves me behind, but Pynchon has delivered so often w/in this group that you can't help but think that perhaps you missed. Subsequent reading do deepen the appreciation. The Courier's Tragedy portion reads like a lot of those opera summaries on public radio, the scholarly articles seem scholarly...in short, he is definitely depicting our world & our ways of depicting it, but he is also throwing the whole thing off kilter which I suppose makes sense in a work that is supposed to unsettle you & force you from a passive understanding/reading of it.
Rating:
Summary: Great art
Review: Pynchon is a word painter, that's the only way to describe him. He gives us these wonderful scenes described so well and cinematically, splashes in some bright colorful characters, and then gives us this dark undershading of paranoia; creating in the process great works of art. This book is perhaps one of his easier reads on the reader, not as demanding as Gravity's Rainbow, or as long as Mason & Dixon, but still filled with deep meaning and jaw dropping prose. Oedipa is a great straight character surrounded by the many surreal people she encounters in her journey to find W.A.S.T.E. and the mystery of the muted trumpet. Some of the best scenes come when she has to interact with some of them, like The Paranoias (I swear I laughed out-loud in some of those scenes). The book is quick, but dark; funny, but thought provoking; short, but much more fulfilling than any long popular novel. Pynchon may be the greatest living writer, his words are filled with vivid electricy, don't let this, one of his best, pass you by. I promise, the quality of the prose alone will be enough to make your head spin, the panoramic images will make it explode.
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