

And Pynchon really knows how to make characters memorable. The entire novel keeps you guessing up until the last second what, who, or where V actually is, and introduces you to a host of different characters with different connections that could all be V.

In Stencil’s eyes, finding out what V is will bring him one step closer to his father, who died in Malta in the 1919 riots. Stencil’s only problem is that he doesn’t know if V is a person, a place, or an object, and he has dedicated his entire life to finding out. A common tie between some of them is the island of Malta, and one particular individual named Stencil is obsessed with ‘V’. It follows a group of disillusioned individuals – some of them navy deserters, some of them artists trying too hard to be the next best things, and some of them deadbeats and prostitutes – who all meet and live together (in some capacity) in New York City. The story takes place in America and Malta, but it actually also bounces between a lot of different locations in flashbacks. Trying to explain this book simply is a bit of a struggle, but we can try, anyway. It was like watching Game of Thrones for the first time and struggling to remember who everyone was and their relation to each other. But plot-wise, there is so much going on all the time that I was very confused at first until I learned who all the characters were. This book is huge and weighs a ton, but damn if it isn’t a good read. I’m not talking only material and plot wise, I mean physically. Surprised that a book written by an American featured Malta so heavily, I bought it and promised myself I would read it and fully enjoy it one day. When I heard of this book the first time, it was in a class when a professor told us that this book had the best description of Valletta he had ever read. Other times, a book is gripping, but it’s too heavy to finish in a single sitting. But sometimes a book grabs you and you breeze through it. It took me five whole months to read this book and I am so ashamed by that fact.
