Don’t get me wrong here, I love Thomas Pynchon and his labrythntine, self-indulgent and completely enthralling prose. But the cover for his new book, “Inherent Vice,” is just mind-bogglingly terrible.
It’s almost too easy to make fun of it. Let’s go over a few obvious cracks that could be made at this novel’s expense…
-“I didn’t know there was already a novelization of the Miami Vice/Ghostbusters crossover!”
-“You know why the car door is open? The driver didn’t want to be associated with the cover.”
-“Crying of Lot 49? More like, Crying of those Eyeballs of Mine!”
-“Oh, so this is why he doesn’t show his face in public.”
-“Shut up. Pynchon probably had nothing to do with the cover, and the book will still make your brain twist into a figure-8 and quiver with bizarre joy.”