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Ah, this is fucking terrible…

David Foster Wallace, the novelist, essayist and humorist best known for his 1997 tome “Infinite Jest,” was found dead last night at his home in Claremont, according to the Claremont Police Department. He was 46.

I’m usually unsentimental about such things, but this is terrible, and is upsetting me a bit. Who knows about Infinite Jest, fuck it really, but the stuff in Brief Interviews and especially Oblivion is excellent, as good as anything out there, writer’s writing, and all the rest.

Who can know what was going on, but it’s not a superfun lifepath, this one, no matter whether it seems to be turning out well, badly, or – as it always does or seems to do – somewhere in between, tending toward badly.

Written by adswithoutproducts

September 14, 2008 at 12:38 am

Posted in Uncategorized

4 Responses

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  1. […] reaction nails mine.  Wallace was a brilliant, unpredictable author whose next book always could’ve […]

  2. Still stunned since hearing the news last night. I put up a MetaFilter post that’s had over 300 stunned-into-silence comments that I think is worth reading, as well as (just now) a longer and more retrospective obituary post at my own site.

    G C

    September 14, 2008 at 4:08 pm

  3. Gerry,

    Honestly. Don’t mean to be mean at a time like this. But you’re looking like a self-serving dick running around posting the same comment on every site about your posts and the hits they generate.

    I’ve been around awhile in b’land. Free advice: don’t do shit like you’re doing, especially not in re: this sort of situation.

    CR

    September 15, 2008 at 12:14 am

  4. In Infinte Jest (which is worth the read), a cocaine addicted, clinically depressed grad student hosts a radio show under the pseudonym Madame Psychosis which offers solace to lots of troubled listeners in the Boston area. She attempts suicide, survives. One character, who is attracted to her show because in it she so nakedly reveals how sad she is, remarks that he thinks she would be less sad if she could only somehow hear her own show. It makes me think that I wish David Foster Wallace could have read his own books, and been fortified to face whatever it was he didn’t want to face–the way that many of us have.

    Tim

    September 15, 2008 at 12:37 am


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