As literary events go, Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow is an absolute miracle of prose. Clocking in at almost 800 pages, occurring in a post WWII geography that sprawls over several continents, and featuring a cast of over 400 characters, each hustling and busting for whatever attention they can get (or in some cases, get away from), Gravity’s Rainbow is a work so wide-eyed in its vision and relentlessly thorough in its execution that it does not deny the reader anything except maybe the chance to catch a breath. Often lauded as one of the greatest books of the 20th century, and widely regarded as Pynchon’s best, Gravity’s Rainbow is the post-modern novel par excellence: it is a collision of worlds seen and unseen, a rumpus of ideas high and low brow, and a tumult of things deathly, humorous, and erotic.
For the sustained screaming that comes across the novel’s epic length, Gravity’s Rainbow is a novel without compassion. Easily the best book I’ve ever read, it is a reading experience no reader should pass up.
Sister Evangeline was just a girl when her father entrusted her to the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration in upstate New York. Now, at twenty-three, her discovery of a 1943 letter from the famous philanthropist Abigail Rockefeller to the late mother superior of Saint Rose Convent plunges Evangeline into a secret history that stretches back a thousand years: an ancient conflict between the Society of Angelologists and the monstrously beautiful descendants of angels and humans, the Nephilim. Rich in history, full of mesmerizing characters, and wondrously conceived, Angelology blends biblical lore, the myth of Orpheus and the Miltonic visions of Paradise Lost into a riveting tale of ordinary people engaged in a battle that will determine the fate of the world.