Snow-Balls have flown their Arcs, starr'd the Sides of Outbuildings, as of Cousins, carried Hats away into the brisk Wind off Delaware,-- the Sleds are brought in and their Runners carefully dried and greased, shoes deposited in the back Hall, a stocking'd-foot Descent made upon the great Kitchen, in a purposeful Dither since Morning, punctuated by the ringing Lids of Boilers and Stewing-Pots, fragrant with Pie-Spices, peel'd Fruits, Suet, heated Sugar,-- the Children, having all upon the Fly, among rhythmic slaps of Batter and Spoon, coax'd and stolen what they might, proceed, as upon each afternoon all this snowy December, to a comfortable Room at the rear of the House, years since given over to their carefree Assaults.
We have to bring some Pynchon with us into the Quackverse. We could have selected his magnum opus set during WWII, [RANCH], or [RANCH], some of which takes place on an airship. However, it was his 1997 stunner
Mason & Dixon that was not only our introduction to the author but which also first opened up our eyes to what literature was truly capable of accomplishing. Written in an 18th century vernacular (Tom doesn’t make anything easy) and featuring a wide cast of characters that includes not only the titular surveyors but also George Washington, fellow founding father and proud Philadelphian [RANCH], a particularly verbose canine and an obsessive robotic duck, it’s absurdly funny, profoundly moving, achingly beautiful, and brilliant in every way. It’s also his most human book.
Also, I want to say thanks to whoever suggested this category (Cap, I think?) because it inspired a re-read.
@Young Sandwich, you better disappoint us with your book pick after the "Horny" fiasco.