Oct. 15, 2007
05:31 p.m.
McGuane gets compared to Pynchon quite a bit, which I’ve never understood save perhaps the sheer madcap pace of language and witticisms, but whereas with Pynchon these come in bursts, with McGuane they’re pretty much sustained. Perhaps that’s why McGuane writes shorter books — you can only keep up that pace for so long, both as a writer and a reader. <em>The Bushwhacked Piano</em> remains one of my favorite books and this one is equally good, but somehow too much the same, the same tragic inevitability that makes <em>Piano</em> compelling occasionally strikes me a tedious here. But it’s still a fun short read, definitely worth while if you haven’t already
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