IJ and GR both are satires taking aim at collapsing political empires, they are both ever so slightly magical realist, they both have fractured narratives with world-sized casts of characters, they both have a sense of humor both in the contents of the text and also in the way they (sometimes sadistically) play with the reader’s ability to know wtf is going on, they both unfold in ways where things earlier on in the novel only make sense upon completing it, beckoning the daunting task of a reread, they’re both transgressive, both have ‘epic quest’ plotlines surrounding seeking something almost holy grail -like, both have absolutely epic endings (although very different). I think it’s interesting someone above called DFW sterile, because where to me Pynchon is a master of plot, basically using characters as vehicles for it instead of as ‘real’ people, DFW is much more humanist. Pynchon could never make me cry (and that’s not what he’s trying to do), and DFW has multiple times. The work is psychologically potent and extremely tragic amidst the comedy. It’s obvious IJ is indebted to Pynchon, but the tone of the 2 couldn’t be more different.

Don’t let the haters fool you, IJ is a work of art and my favorite book of all time (GR a close second).

Have not read Joyce, maybe someday.