Oedipus Maas is an American housewife who becomes the executor of a millionaire’s will, only to be distracted by a postal conspiracy that dates back to the middle ages.
Once again, the thing that impresses me most about Pynchon is that he is one of the few authors whose characters can sing without it being awful. Unlike J. K. Rowling.
I’d classify this novel as a conspiracy comedy. Before I wrote this I had a whole list of similar novels drawn up in my head, but the only ones I can remember now are Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson’s Illuminatus Trilogy. (Crying of Lot 49 is better than those books). I was also going to talk about the typical traits of the genre, but I’ve forgotten all of those as all. Errrh… just imagine if The da Vinci Code was self-conscious about how silly it really is.
I’m fairly sure this is the shortest Pynchon book, so if this legendary author intrigues you, go check it out.