David Foster Wallace - A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again
(anyone know the context behind the cover btw? It's lost on me.)
Seven essays. All thought-provoking.
Derivative Sport in Tornado Alley: I say thought-provoking, but the first ~20 pages of the book are a hard read. I first had contact with this book quite a while ago, in my senior year of HS, though I never got past the first essay. It's Dave's origin story, I guess, or at least the origin for a lot of what you'll be finding later in the book and in IJ. The references to calc and linear algebra kind of filtered me the first time through, though now I know about enough to be able to decide whenever one of those metaphors doesn't actually apply, and reads more like DFW trying to sound academic on purpose (which happened more than once, I promise you, and I'm not saying it's necessarily a bad thing).
E Unibus Pluram: So after congratulating myself on getting past the roadblock that the previous me could not, I immediately found myself mindbroken by this one. It's about television, advertisements, and fiction, and it was written in the early 90s, so I naturally face it with both a sense of archaiety and also curiosity. I'll say right now that it is I think more truth-piercing, or otherwise at least mindful, than all of the post-internet cultural speculation following it. I'm sure there's like a billion essays you could approach in this style, but I'll leave it at that.
Getting Away from Already Being Pretty Much Away from It All: Again, I think that this is where DFW shines in terms of style, rather than any sort of depth in his topic. In that way, he's entirely unpretentious. Actually, I think that might be his best quality as a writer, that being, the way he can so casually switch from the math terminology of the opening essay to the city-slicker forced normal-guyness of this one. Also made me regret my childhood quite a bit, this one did. I have vague not-memories of this sort of thing for some reason, though the haziness of the memories themselves I think indicates that I was unable to partake in them.
Greatly Exaggereated: Is a book review, the shortest section among these here essays and/or arguments. Honestly not much I can say about this one, since it is about the book
Morte d'Author: An Autopsy, which I have not read and apparently very few others have done so. There are quite a few other books in the review, mentioned due to relation, which I do currently intend to read at some point, so I'll maybe end up looking into this one. too.
David Lynch Keeps His Head: I really wish people would stop talking about movies...
...And I still stand by that view but I'll admit this is maybe the most engaged I've been in reading someone's thoughts on movies. A lot of insight here I think into Lynch's stuff, which I'll admit I'm still not very familiar with, though this has made me more receptive to going deeper into his stuff.
Tennis Player Michael Joyce's Professional Artistry as a Paradigm of Certain Stuff about Choice, Freedom Discipline, Joy, Grotesquerie, and Human Completeness: I FUCKLING LOVE TENNIS. Honestly this made me want to start taking tennis lessons. Never done it before. Can't be that difficult, right? There's quite a bit in here about how the highest end of professional tennis players are almost dehumanizingly good at the sport. but honestly?
Nah. I'd win.
...Well, at least, I do fencing (mostly foil, if you're wondering) and comparing how David describes tennis to my actual experiences with fencing is rather disheartening. You probably think fencing is some sort of high-society rich person thing, though just comparing it to tennis? We're like the broke crackhead relative who lives in a ripped-up minivan which reeks so bad of cigarettes that even their nephew, whom pretends to not have a sense of smell, can't help but admit smells bad (in a nostalgic way).
Was that too much of an analogy?
Anyways, I'm also a bit embarrassed to admit, the main think I was thinking about while reading this was that I could totally right a bishoujoge about a tennis player girl. I have all the material. It would rock.
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again: The title essay, the one about the cruise ship, the one which people keep telling me to read. Since I still have a bit left to read I still haven't entirely made up my mind on it but it is
really good. Good in a similar way to the state fair essay, I mean. I've seen quite a few people compare Tim Rogers to DFW, and I think I see the resemblance now. Also a bit embarrassing to write that out, comparing an eceleb to an author like this, but I find both of them to be thought- and feeling-evoking.
All things considering, I would recommend this book to basically anyone who can tolerate DFW's intentionally west-coast-sounding, half-down-to-earth, half-academic authorial voice.