Seven hundred and sixty pages. "Unreadable, turgid, overwritten, and obscene" is how it was described by the 1974 Pulitzer Prize comittee.
But today's the day. I and many other internet connected readers (and maybe you?) are going to read Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. Like we did for Middlemarch, we'll read a chunk each week (70 pages), chat with each other about it, and maybe make it all the way through.
Why? Yeah, I wasn't sure at first, but then I read a one liner description of the novel - "centers on the design, production, and dispatch of V-2 rockets by the German military." It was that word "dispatch." My mother, at seventeen, was a person on whom those bombs were dispatched.