Pynchon, after writing a seamless and absolute classic comedy of history, [book:Mason and Dixon], now is back to his [book:Gravity's Rainbow] form, with a 1085 page juggernaut of caricatured characters that revels in tangential forays into sexual promiscuity, sci-fi balloon adventures, abstract mathematical equations, etc. This was most definitely not the book I should perhaps have picked up as a fictional "fun-to-read" book after a long non-fiction reading kick. This is not to suggest that I did not enjoy Against the Day, but rather to state that this is certainly not a book to take lightly. Like Gravity's Rainbow, Against the Day alternates between ridiculousness, mundanity, beauty, and sublimity often all within the breadth of one sentence. As with Gravity's Rainbow, I often could not distinguish whether my failure to be consistently engaged resided within my own lack of focus or within the author's.
I prefer Mason and Dixon for its more cohesive hilarity, but Against the Day has moments of startling honesty in the midst of its decadent smorgasbord of narratives. I also enjoyed the interspersed escapades of the Chums of Chance immensely.
My advice if you are considering delving into this behemoth: take your time with it, only read it when you've got the dedicated focus to appreciate its subtle beauty. I'm afraid that I hurried myself through this one a little too brusquely, as I was wending my way through library renewal after renewal, and I wanted to move on to some other books.