Thomas Pynchon's works are some of the most formative books for me:
To me, this is an essential post-modernist novel. The overwhelming, chaotic narrative structure reflects a world that is broken into shards and plunged into chaos. Like Tyrone Slothrop, the protagonist, we are left to navigate the shifting sands as best we can. There is no clear goal, no solution, no answer - there is only the world we make for ourselves.
This is a book that rewards repeated readings, revealing new layers of meaning with each return to the text.
This meandering work is best approached the way Pynchon presents it: As a collection of more or less tall tales, told by the fireside in the course of a long winter. Don't try to interpret, just come along for the ride.
Understanding will eventually come, but it might take a few readings.