Meaning: Leslie Fiedler, an American literary critic, in this quote, expresses his evolving relationship with the works of Thomas Pynchon, an influential and enigmatic American novelist. Fiedler's statement encapsulates a common sentiment among readers and critics regarding Pynchon's writing style, which is characterized by intricate plots, dense prose, and complex themes. Fiedler's initial admiration for Pynchon's work followed by a diminishing appreciation reflects the challenges that many readers encounter when engaging with the author's oeuvre.

When Fiedler mentions having "liked him very much when I first read him," he acknowledges the initial allure and impact of Pynchon's early works, such as "V." and "The Crying of Lot 49." These novels, published in the 1960s, introduced readers to Pynchon's distinct narrative style, marked by labyrinthine plots, an array of eccentric characters, and a blend of historical, cultural, and scientific references. The complexity of Pynchon's storytelling initially captivated Fiedler and many others, drawing them into a world where conventional literary norms were subverted and traditional narrative structures were challenged.

However, Fiedler's subsequent statement, "I liked him less with each book," hints at a growing disillusionment with Pynchon's later works, particularly monumental novels like "Gravity's Rainbow" and "Mason & Dixon." These novels are renowned for their encyclopedic scope, intricate symbolism, and challenging prose, which demand rigorous engagement from readers. Fiedler's observation of Pynchon becoming "denser and more complex" underscores the author's evolving approach, which delves deeper into convoluted narratives and esoteric themes, potentially alienating some readers in the process.

Fiedler's comment that Pynchon's increasing density "didn't really pay off" alludes to the diminishing returns that he perceives in the author's later works. While Pynchon's intricate storytelling and intellectual depth may appeal to some readers and critics, others, like Fiedler, find themselves grappling with the diminishing accessibility and satisfaction derived from engaging with Pynchon's evolving literary style. The diminishing payoff that Fiedler mentions suggests a sense of diminishing resonance or fulfillment from the reading experience, as the complexities of Pynchon's later works may overshadow the emotional or intellectual rewards that readers seek in literature.

It is important to note that Fiedler's perspective on Pynchon's work is just one of many, and opinions on the author's evolving style are diverse and subject to individual interpretation. Pynchon's reputation as a literary innovator and intellectual provocateur continues to inspire fervent debate, with some lauding his intricate narratives and dense prose as groundbreaking and revelatory, while others find them impenetrable and self-indulgent. The polarizing nature of Pynchon's work ensures that discussions about his literary merit and impact remain lively and contentious within literary circles.

In conclusion, Leslie Fiedler's commentary on Thomas Pynchon's evolving literary style encapsulates the complex and evolving relationship that readers and critics have with the author's work. Fiedler's initial affinity for Pynchon's early novels gives way to a sense of diminishing resonance and satisfaction with the author's later, more complex works. This sentiment reflects the broader discourse around Pynchon's writing, which continues to provoke admiration, frustration, and rigorous critical engagement. Whether one finds Pynchon's increasing density rewarding or alienating, his legacy as a literary provocateur remains a subject of enduring fascination and debate in the realm of contemporary literature.