This felt like a reach back into pockets of his early work but with his new twist. Always love how the dude really commits to periods and their drawl in his dialogue. The motherfucking Gumshoe Manual in here. Prose of creeping fascism as something looming on the horizon, creeping into even the mundane. A barbarism. This was a good breezy read from Pynchon, but really has me hankering to finally start Against that day.. maybe next year.