V., BY THOMAS PYNCHON

This is probably just about the dumbest book to pick up for pleasure reading when you suddenly find your time for pleasure vastly diminished. Nevertheless, I got the book as a gift a while back, and I hate having unread books on my shelf. I couldn’t get through Gravity’s Rainbow, but V. is at least shorter, so who knows. Maybe I’ll even enjoy it.

Addendum
I gave up. Not the kind of book you can read in 5 minute windows spaced anywhere from hours to days.