David Foster Wallace, RIP
David Foster Wallace, the author of Infinite Jest, died over the weekend at the age of 46. The writer and teacher was discovered by his wife after hanging himself in their apartment. I first came across this news here, and here. The tremendous outpouring of grief, beyond that experienced simply by the manner of his death, demonstrates just how much his writing impacted others. For me, the loss of anyone by their own hand, but particularly of someone who offered so much to so many, is a tragedy. In addition, the pain and suffering that follows in the wake of a suicide always tinges any sadness with anger.
Confession: I was only vaguely aware of DFW prior to his death. Infinite Jest was published while I was in the midst of graduate school, and as anyone who has attended graduate school can attest, more than a few cultural phenomena tend to pass you by while your nose is buried in texts related to your field of choice. What I’ve also noticed is, once you narrow your field of focus, it takes a concerted effort to re-widen it. In addition, wading back into the water after having been out for some time, you notice the current hasn’t stopped for you. If some achievement passed you by while you were out of the game, once you jumped back in you are confronted with choices - do you go back and try to catch up, or do you start fresh, with just an occasional foray back? It is books like Infinite Jest I missed at the time, and had not gotten back to.
Eh, enough about me. The point I am trying to make is that I will read Infinite Jest - not just because the author has passed away, but because of the comments regarding the impact of that book by people whose opinions I respect. Yes, this is a cliche, but true: It is unfortunate that it often takes a significant event, such as a death, to prompt a course of action. However, this is been observed so frequently that it must be him in nature. In the meantime, as a person I am saddened by this news, and as a psychologist I lament the loss of yet another to depression.
David Foster Wallace, RIP
David Foster Wallace, the author of Infinite Jest, died over the weekend at the age of 46. The writer and teacher was discovered by his wife after hanging himself in their apartment. I first came across this news here, and here. The tremendous outpouring of grief, beyond that experienced simply by the manner of his death, demonstrates just how much his writing impacted others. For me, the loss of anyone by their own hand, but particularly of someone who offered so much to so many, is a tragedy. In addition, the pain and suffering that follows in the wake of a suicide always tinges any sadness with anger.
Confession: I was only vaguely aware of DFW prior to his death. Infinite Jest was published while I was in the midst of graduate school, and as anyone who has attended graduate school can attest, more than a few cultural phenomena tend to pass you by while your nose is buried in texts related to your field of choice. What I’ve also noticed is, once you narrow your field of focus, it takes a concerted effort to re-widen it. In addition, wading back into the water after having been out for some time, you notice the current hasn’t stopped for you. If some achievement passed you by while you were out of the game, once you jumped back in you are confronted with choices - do you go back and try to catch up, or do you start fresh, with just an occasional foray back? It is books like Infinite Jest I missed at the time, and had not gotten back to.
Eh, enough about me. The point I am trying to make is that I will read Infinite Jest - not just because the author has passed away, but because of the comments regarding the impact of that book by people whose opinions I respect. Yes, this is a cliche, but true: It is unfortunate that it often takes a significant event, such as a death, to prompt a course of action. However, this is been observed so frequently that it must be him in nature. In the meantime, as a person I am saddened by this news, and as a psychologist I lament the loss of yet another to depression.