Another dead writer: David Foster Wallace

September 15th, 2008 · No Comments

Via Bad American:

I think he might have known what was about to happen.

Associated Press
And more commentary here

CLAREMONT, Calif. (AP) - David Foster Wallace, the author best known for his 1996 novel “Infinite Jest,” was found dead in his home, according to police. He was 46.
Wallace’s wife found her husband had hanged himself when she returned home about 9:30 p.m. Friday, said Jackie Morales, a records clerk with the Claremont Police Department.
Wallace taught creative writing and English at nearby Pomona College.
Wallace’s first novel, “The Broom of the System,” gained national attention in 1987 for its ambition and offbeat humor. The New York Times said the 24-year-old author “attempts to give us a portrait, through a combination of Joycean word games, literary parody and zany picaresque adventure, of a contemporary America run amok.”
Published in 1996, “Infinite Jest” cemented Wallace’s reputation as a major American literary figure. The 1,000-plus-page tome, praised for its complexity and dark wit, topped many best-of lists. Time Magazine named “Infinite Jest” in its issue of the “100 Best English-language Novels from 1923 to 2005.”
Wallace received a “genius grant” from the MacArthur Foundation in 1997. His short fiction was published in Esquire, GQ, Harper’s, The New Yorker and the Paris Review. He wrote nonfiction for a number of publications, including an essay on the U.S. Open for Tennis magazine and a profile of the director David Lynch for Premiere.

Wallace also taught Freshman English at Illinois State University in the 1990s. It was during that time, I almost met him. I admit that I could not fathom Infinite Jest, but thoroughly enjoyed his spot-on critique of American Society, A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again.
The supposedly fun thing was going on a pleasure cruise.
I heard a lot about Wallace, all of it second hand from people who knew and worked with him at Illinois State. Wallace was always rather self-conscious about the whole ‘genius’ label and seemed genuinely happy (when not writing) teaching English composition.
From his LA Times obit this morning:

Gary Kates, the college’s dean, called Wallace’s death “an incredible loss.”
“He was a fabulous teacher,” Kates said Saturday. “He was hands-on with his students. He cared deeply about them. . . . He was a jewel on the faculty, and we deeply appreciated everything he gave to the college.”

He was somewhat reclusive except to a small circle of close friends but friendly if approached. His fans started an unofficial website which hasn’t been updated since 2000. Here is the embryonic bio that appeared there:

David Foster Wallace is the award winning author of several novels, more than a few short stories, and numerous articles, as well as being a college professor. Still in his 30’s, David has been called one of America’s most important young authors and is often compared to Thomas Pynchon, though he tends to shrug off that association. He is most widely known for his epic (1000+ page) novel, Infinite Jest, published in 1996 and critically acclaimed by critics and readers alike. Topics covered in Wallace’s work are wide ranging, but he seems to have a special interest in American culture, addictions, and excess. Ironically, because of his edgy body of work and his public persona, DFW has gained a cult following and become somewhat of a celebrity himself.

According to his Wikipedia entry, Wallace’s favorite book was CS Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters.
Also from the Wikipedia entry:

In the November 2007 issue of The Atlantic, which commemorated the magazine’s 150th anniversary, an invited series of authors, artists, politicians and others were asked to prepare 300 words or so on “the future of the American idea”. Wallace asked whether some things were still worth dying for, and presented a “thought experiment” in which “we decided that a certain baseline vulnerability to terrorism is part of the price of the American idea.” He goes on to say that we might have to accept that every now and then “a democratic republic cannot 100% protect itself [from terrorism] without subverting the very principles that made it worth protecting.” By comparison, he continues, we accept the 40,000 highway deaths each year as the price we pay for the convenience of the motor car. Finally, he asks, in the context of Guantanamo Bay, the Patriot Act, and warrantless wiretapping, “Have we become so selfish and scared that we don’t even want to consider whether some things trump safety?”

ALSO: Salon is trying to re-run it’s 1996 Infinite Jest interview with Wallace but is screwing up their own link. But here’s a 1999 interview in Salon on the release of Brief Interviews With Hideous Men.
This might seem rather morbid, but I’m not surprised, based on what I know and read of Wallace, that he chose hanging. I don’t think he believed in guns and I would also guess he viewed the act of hanging as a far more poignant statement than leaving one’s brains on the wall.
We don’t know exactly what brought him to this end. It seems extremely sad that his wife had to find him like that. His genius may have given way to depression (Hemingway) or he might have (and I base this on his writings) decided America was truly about to go off the deep end and he didn’t want to see it (Hunter S. Thompson).
While reading the comments on the LA Times obit, I came across this typical comment from a typically brain dead American conservative punk:

5. Never heard of this “progressive” guy; probably came to the realization that Barry and Joe ain’t gonna win, and could not face the truth about his skewered and very liberal views of the world around him. Or, maybe he fancied himself as Hemingway, who was depressed, so he decided to take the ultimate cure for all ills. It works, liberals, so have at it, now that you see the future with BO and Joe…I made a ditty: see the future with BO and Joe.
Submitted by: CT Sherwin
6:52 AM PDT, September 14, 2008

In light of that, I have to add something here as well. Many critics of Wallace complain that his prose is too dense, uses too many big words and is essentially hard for the average American mind to decipher. I freely admit I couldn’t handle Infinite Jest. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a work of genius. I might now give it another go.
But the one problem that people like Wallace face in modern America is they have so few intellectual peers. I consider myself a fairly intelligent person but I was actually intimidated with the idea of meeting him.
When you live in a nation that seems proud of it’s ignorance, the mere act of living becomes a hard road to hoe. I know that sounds arrogant but after being forced by everyone from Notre Dame nuns in the 70s to the staff at the Cedar Rapids Gazette in 2005 to apologize for being the smartest person in the room, I no longer care. America is a nation that celebrates idiocy and largely because of that, we are no longer great in the sense of arts and letters but only in the sense of making war/killing people.
Thomas Jefferson, dining alone in The White House, as the old joke goes, could maintain his sanity because he was surrounded by a cadre of learned men. They didn’t always agree, but they could at least respecteach other’s opinions. Jefferson could also ensconce himself at Monticello and tinker around with his ideas, inventions and writings with minimal interference.
That’s almost impossible to do today unless you’re independently wealthy. I always wondered how Wallace got on in such a society, how he was able to find people to have a reasonably intelligent conversation with and people who could understand what he was thinking. Technical knowledge is a different sort of matter - thank Goddess the geeks can find themselves fairly easily.
But a knowledge of arts and letters is so denigrated in American society that people who still retain a vocabulary above 500 words feel a part of a secret, closeted and somewhat persecuted minority. And they have a harder time finding solace in each others company. In fact, merely having this kind of knowledge renders you guilty of being an ‘elitist’ nowadays and the rest of your motives become suspect among your fellow Americans.
I think living in this society could have gradually become very difficult for Wallace.
In any case, a giant of American letters has checked out. I don’t know if they ever met, but I bet David and Kurt Vonnegut (they had Ithaca, NY in common) are probably chatting each other up in the hereafter. I hope he is at peace this evening.

One of my compatriots at Heartless and Brainless also speaks on Wallace’s death. I didn’t know his body of work, but I might have to check it out sometime, seeing as how I’ve heard he was so good.

I guess I’ll have to find out for myself.

But as for the man himself, it’s a sad event. We can always use more writers from his stock.
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