/lit/ - Literature

For some reason the following passage from Pynchon stuck with me
>What voices overheard, flinders of luminescent gods glimpsed among the wallpaper's stained foliage, candlestubs lit to rotate in the air over him, prefiguring the cigarette he or a friend must fall asleep someday smoking, thus to end among the flaming, secret salts held all those years by the insatiable stuffing of a mattress that could keep vestiges of every nightmare sweat, helpless overflowing bladder, viciously, tearfully consummated wet dream, like the memory bank to a computer of the lost?

>technological progress is accelerating
>young people have intimate knowledge of modern digital innovations which are arcane to me
>the world is interconnected, integrated, and ever-changing on per second basis
>have no energy or desire to keep up
>feel like I'm only reading classics to have some meaningless boomer pride in the old things
Books for this feel?