293 pages, Hardcover
Published October, 2025 by Penguin Press
So I am not a big Thomas Pynchon fan, although I have enjoyed everything that I have read. I was under the impression that my man had retired from writing; maybe he had, I still don’t know. When this came, I was surprised. After two friends I respect said nice things about the novel, I peeped at the plot and put it on hold at the library. It was a good thing I was 88th in a queue, because after one copy of the 30 that the San Diego Library made it my way, I forgot what interested me in the first place. I went in cold enough when I didn't know when the book took place or what it was about.
This going-in-cold method worked for me, so if you absolutely don’t want spoilers, know that I think this novel is great. Let's talk about why.
This novel is set in another one of those periods of American political strife, this case the early 1930s. While the obvious strife in most folks' minds is prohibition, but labor fights, race, and the near rise of fascism. This was the era when Sinclair Lewis was warning that it could happen here; he was about 90 years early.
This is the reason that TP seems to have chosen this era to write about. It almost speaks better about our era than doing modern set novel. Right from the opening paragraph, I was into it...
“When trouble comes to town, it usually takes the north shoreline. What with tough times down the lake in Chicago, changes in the wind, prohibition repeal just around the corner, dig out in the federal pokey in Atlanta, outfit affairs from jumpy and unpredictable, anybody needing an excuse to get out of town in a hurry comes breathing up here to Milwaukee, seldom gets more serious than somebody stole somebody's fish.”
What amazing world-building and tone setting in this paragraph. It is a little detail, but there is something wildly symbolic about talking about Chicago first in a novel set in Milwaukee, which always felt like a smaller sister city due to its location. TP setting this in the smaller sleepy city is a choice, which has a little bit to do with the cheese heiress thing. You see, this is the story of Hick McTaggart, a former strikebreaker turned private detective who is hired to find a kidnapped cheese heiress. Hicks could’ve been a cop, and nine out of ten writers would’ve made him a cop who got thrown off the force for being violent. TP really centers the story in the period by making Hicks a strikebreaker. It didn’t endear me to the guy that he was breaking knuckles for the company, but putting him at the center of labor strife was smart.
I mean I could pick a dozen random paragraphs of fantastic writing that classed up the joint…
“At the federal courthouse can take on a sinister look, a setting for a story best not told at bedtime, the jagged profile of an evil castle against the pale light reflected off the lake, bell tower, archways, gargoyles, haunted shadows, Halloween all year long. Or, as some like to think of it, Richardsonian Romanesque. Heavy icicles all along the overhangs, waiting to let loose and Pierce your skull, with no safety hat on the market known to be of any help.”
But many parts made me laugh. Some stuff, like BAGEL, just got me.
“And how many of you are there?”
Not as many as there should be, thanks to BAGEL, the Bureau Administering Golems employed Locally, whose agents are always snooping around, hoping to interrupt funny business and progress.”
Shadow Ticket probably is not one going to get the accolades that his earlier books got, but I enjoyed it alot. Many authors, as they get into the age TP is at start to lose their fastball, but I didn’t detect it. Fantastic read.
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