I just finished The Diamond Age the other day and I’m reading Paul Auster’s new book, Man In The Dark right now. It’s the shortest and easiest of reads so I imagine I’ll be done with it sometime today. And Yesterday, I was literally thinking about what my next book would be, something longer and more challening I decided, and then I pondered that for a bit. “I know,” I told myself, “maybe it’s time I went back and finally read all of Infinite Jest!”
And then as I was considering sleep and finishing up some research online for a future Counterforce post (about a certain spunky young redhead), I did a quick scan of the news, only to discover that Infinite Jest‘s author, David Foster Wallace, was dead.
A shame. I’m not a huge DFW (when you look at his pictures, you have to forgive him for looking like such a douche-y bro-seph) fan, but I am a fan. I read Oblivion: Stories by the winner of the MacArthur Foundation’s ”genius grant” a few years back, and also enjoyed his Brief Interviews With Hideous Men, which is soon be a movie by The Office‘s John Krasinski. Infinite Jest, considered one of Time magazine’s 100 best English language novels, which clocks in at something like 1079 pages (that’s an almost Stephenson-esque length!), just looks big and crazy and like good ridiculous fun. But apparently it’s a tough read in places, not just because of the length, but because of Wallace’s style as a nicely blended mix of Nabokov, Pynchon, and Delillo, but because he forces you to stay with him through an impressive gauntlet of reading (he’s a bit of a word drunk)(was, shit), and to be smart while doing it. Keep that dictionary handy. Hell, Lisa Schwarzbaum was so intimidated by the book’s striking length that, for her review in Entertainment Weekly, she didn’t even read the book, but does tell us that it weighs 3 pounds, 2.7 ounces. Awesome. Sadly, you’re not alone there, Lisa. It’s a common recurring joke between smart people that Infinite Jest is the next book they’re going to read, just like the joke about Pynchon: “I’m reading Gravity’s Rainbow. Well, re-reading it.” Regardless, the book itself created a tremendous bit of notoriety for the author, marking him as a future literary superstar. Did he capitalize on that fully? I just don’t know…
Sadly though, on September 12, Foster’s wife came home to find that he had hung himself. Alas, despite DFW being of excellent fancy, I did not know his work nearly as well I’d like to have. I’d like to take this opportunity to get to know it better and hopefully we’ll get some more details about the man in the wake of this tragedy.
When mentioning this to Lollipop Gomez, a fellow DFW fan who’ll probably do her own write up of the author later, I mentioned some confusion about how to handle this post. I want to talk about why it’s a shame that this talent is gone, but I don’t want to go into a critical dissection of him just yet, I told her. Also, I added, I want to keep this brief (not a strong suit of mine, obviously), but she replied wonderfully, “In his spirit, you should be as wordy as possible.” What can I say? Some of us sexy geniuses just don’t know how to shut up.
Well, I guess DFW did. He was 46.
I’ll leave you with a few links as an appreciation of the author, but I imagine you’ll hear more about him from us at some point…
DFW, along with others, on Charlie Rose.
Michiko Kakutani’s review of A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never do Again.
Salon‘s review of Brief Interviews With Hideous Men.
DFW on Infinite Jest.
The Perspective of DFW.
A wonderfully detailed review of Oblivion: Stories by the London Review Of Books.
An old, but excellent Salon interview with DFW.
The Believer‘s interview with DFW.
Michiko Kakutani’s review of Infinite Jest.
DFW called a prose magician, who mapped the mythic and the mundane, by Michiko Kakutani.
The very excited Newsweek review of Infinite Jest by David Gates.
Molly Lambert republishing DFW taking a dump on John Updike. (Happy birthday!)
DFW’s love letter to Roger Federer.
N+1 on DFW.
A personal encounter with DFW.
What the Infinite Fuck? Patton Oswalt on DFW.
In a nod to his mega-novel, DFW plays Wii tennis!
A letter from DFW, maybe.
DFW on John McCain after his failed Primary bid in 2000.
DFW’s favorite novel:
Would you like to know more about DFW’s style? I’ll quote the Wikipedia page on Infinite Jest for that: “Wallace’s writing voice is a postmodern mixture of high- and low-brow linguistic traits. He juxtaposes, often within a single sentence, colloquialisms and polysyllabic, highly esoteric words.”
Why DFW? Because Rick Moody can suck it.
DFW on XXX.
An excellent Infinite Jest resources page.
The Howling Fantods, a DFW appreciation site.
The excellent DFW tribute page at McSweeney’s.
VICTORY FOR THE FORCES OF DEMOCRATIC FREEDOM!
Why did Sarah Plain’s interview with Charlie Gibsom bomb so badly? Because they edited it to make her look stupid, they say.
A quick search on Youtube for DFW’s name brings me this interview with producer/songwriter David Foster and Chris “Kid” Reid. It’s interesting.
Tina Fey doing a wonderful job as Sarah Palin, and featuring the lovely Amy Poehler as Hillary. Watch it while you can.
James Bond drinks Coke Zero!? Bullshit.
Jesse Ventura says the government’s not telling you the truth about 9/11.
Three dead following quarrel over penis size.
A little more illumination on Michiko Kakutani.
German man sells his partner for beer. ‘Nuff said.
The Church Of England apologizes to Charles Darwin.
Literary suicide is all the rage.
Ben Gibbard - Your Ex-Lover Is Dead (live Stars cover)
I just noticed that I said Plain above rather than Palin. Sarah Plain. I don’t feel like changing it right this second.
Also, I should mention that this morning as I was thinking about doing this post, I flipped open my copy of Brief Interviews, eager to read one of DFW’s stories for a little refresher and I literally unintentionally opened it right up to “Suicide As A Sort Of Present.” Weird, no?
Looking at those pictures of this Wallace guy, I’m kinda sad he’s dead, cause I kinda want to punch him in the kidney.
excellent post, terrible tragedy
It really is, but thank you