Bleeding Edge is filled with 9/11 conspiracy theories, eccentric characters, and a wild alternative universe called the “Deep Web.” It is very Pynchon; the only difference is that this universe is found through computers and not through hallucinogens like some of his other books.
This was the most comprehensible Pynchon book to me. Probably because I was alive during 2001, I’ve lived in Manhattan, I am familiar with the techno-jargon, and I’ve at least heard of the exuberant tales of tech boom. For those that are worrying that Pynchon is becoming more accessible, fear not as Jonathan Lethem writes in his review:
Thomas Pynchon is 76, and his refusal to develop a late style is practically infuriating. The man’s wildly consistent: the only reason Bleeding Edge couldn’t have been published in 1973 is that the Internet, the Giuliani/Disney version of Times Square and the war on terror hadn’t come along yet. This book, and Inherent Vice, make jubilant pendants on his mammoth enterprise, neon signposts to themes he took no trouble to hide in the first place.
But in the deep web of this book, lurks a darker message. Bleeding Edge could not have been released at a more appropriate time. At its core there is a struggle between those who want to get lost on the Internet and those who want to find them.