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The Crying of Lot 49...
Well, I finally read it. Can't claim, though, to have understood a thing. If this is a novel about the nature of interpretation, then so be it, but I far prefer Paul Auster's City of Glass. Now there's a book that gets at the intricacies of hermeneutics without veering toward the unreadable. And if this is a novel about the postmodern condition, well, then, I give up entirely...
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