Open Letter to David Foster Wallace
Dear Mr. Wallace,
I’ve done it… twice. I have read Infinite Jest… twice. It only took me 10 years and more than a dozen attempts, but I have done it and I am not pleased with you. At all.
Let me start by saying that I get it – ok… it’s a social commentary (a rather scathing one, at that) on how far people are willing to go for entertainment. I’m ok with that part. Really.
Let me also state, for the record, that the first time I read it all the way through, I was only reading half-assed. Your book was an Everest that I was sick of feeling defeated by. I had read several times up to the chapter written almost completely in Ebonics just to end up throwing it across the room in annoyed frustration. Did you REALLY have to put the end-notes at the back of the book? (Oops – that’s a separate rant.) So, yes – I had tried over a dozen times to get past that with no luck before I finally told myself that I didn’t care what it took, I was going to finish that book.
Apparently, what it took was an insane amount of skimming.
I made it through the first time, got to the end and was convinced that my skimming had caused me to miss something crucial. Certainly that wasn’t the end. We hadn’t yet figured out what turned poor Hal into the… whatever it is… in the first chapter. We hadn’t figured out how Hal, the PGOAT and Don get together to dig up the skull. We didn’t know what Peems was trying to tell Hal.
Basically, all of the questions that were posed in the story were left entirely unanswered.
Surely, in a novel that runs over 1200 pages (NOT INCLUDING YOUR FLIPPIN’ ENDNOTES!) there wouldn’t be unanswered questions.
So, I read it again. This time with a notebook, a pen and TWO bookmarks (one for the end-notes [were they REALLY necessary... I mean, REALLY!?] and one for my place in the novel). I was prepared. I made charts, graphs, time-lines – anything to help me keep track of what was going on. I read each sentence for every hidden innuendo.
And you know what I found, Mr. Foster Wallace? This is, of course, a rhetorical question because I’m sure you know what I found.
I found nothing.
There were no answers to those questions. In fact, there were all new unanswered questions as a result of the extra attention I had paid to the text. It was as if you just got tired of writing. Or if your editors just told you to turn in what you had knowing that only a few people on Earth would ever make it to the end of that gargantuan monstrosity to find out that you ended it on the edge of a cliff.
I want my ending, DFW. Even if it’s a total cop out, I want my ending. I have my theories, I have my hunches, I just… I WANT MY ENDING and I think it’s been long enough since then that whatever weariness you had while writing it has long since passed. Finish thy book, sir and have mercy on a girl!
Yours truly,
Monica
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The answer to your question about what happened to Hal is definitely in the book. Consider that maybe the ending isn’t the end, and the beginning isn’t the beginning.
And no, of course the end notes weren’t really necessary. Neither was reading the book. But they were in there because Wallace wanted you to experience the book the way you experience life: in a fragmented, not entirely linear manner. Even as you try to focus on the important thing you need to do or figure out next, you are sidetracked by unwanted thoughts. The briefer, medical end notes represented this. Sometimes you are distracted, sometimes you are derailed — sometimes for the better. Sometimes, the distractions lead you to important insights.
Thanks for the reply Troy, but I’m gonna have to disagree with you there about Hal.
We start the book in the interview with the University Dean and find out that, though Hal is perfectly intelligent and mentally capable, he is entirely unable to communicate in a way that does not somehow frighten and disturb people or make him seem in need of medical attention.
From there, we learn about his pot problem, about his eating of fungus, Pemulis’ sometimes overly successful revenge tactics, and caries. There is nothing within the text anywhere (and believe me, I’ve looked) that expressly states EXACTLY what is wrong with Hal or EXACTLY how it happened to be wrong with him. We can only infer that MAYBE Peems did something to Hal (ie, that freaky drug that I can’t remember the name of off-hand) and thus the reason for wanting to talk?? MAYBE the pot was keeping a weird fungus reaction at bay and thus the reason for his weird behavior after he stopped??
Basically, though, between the end of the book and the beginning of the book, there is a blank spot – things happen… important things… And we are not given any information on exactly what those things are other than vague hints. If the book were straighforward, this would be no problem to just “guess” what was going to happen. However, this bok is NOT straightforward (as you have mentioned) – it twists, turns, and in some places, completely bends. So, what I think *might* have happened is one of a thousand possibilities. None of them are wrong entirely, and none of them are really right.
If you still believe that it’s exactly laid out without any question or doubt what happens to Hal, throw me some page numbers and I’ll happily rescind that portion of this post.
Mahalo,
Monica
A sense of humor is definitely required when reading this work. Also, there is the matter of the title to be considered, which could not be more perfect.