Splinters

Currently in Laos. Nice.

Am also struggling through Gravity's Rainbow. Which is proving not so nice. After finishing Plowing The Dark, I was up for another, suitably epic and audacious, novel of ideas - and GR seemd to fit the bill. But I'm about halfway through and just cannot get on with the whimsy of Pynchon's prose style. Where's the meat of the book? There's a lot of things touched on but nothing explored in depth. It's made me laugh out loud several times, so I keep ploughing through, but I'm beginning to lose interest in the whole thing. Is it one of those books that becomes clearer the more you read? Or is this basically it? Lots of characters shagging and singing? Please please let me know - I've got that "I can't go on, I must go on... " feeling at the moment.

It's enough to make me read Nick Hornby.