hallelujah
and i dont know what to say. i finally get some furniture, decide to move in despite the lack of a tv, and discover that David Foster Wallace is dead, alas.
i'm torn between disheartenment and disappointment. i, we, need a voice for us. he was the closest thing to print reality that we've had in a while, and there's no one on the forefront that seems worthy of taking up the standard.
i dropped a lot of money this last week. sucks having to rebuild your life from scratch, but at least i can say i'm sleeping in my own bed tonight.
i'm torn between disheartenment and disappointment. i, we, need a voice for us. he was the closest thing to print reality that we've had in a while, and there's no one on the forefront that seems worthy of taking up the standard.
i dropped a lot of money this last week. sucks having to rebuild your life from scratch, but at least i can say i'm sleeping in my own bed tonight.
posted by jersn at 7:22 AM
3 Comments:
You know, DFW's death really hasn't hit me yet. For the last few years he hasn't been an important writer to me, I guess because his output has been so pitifully small, and the some of the writers I've really liked lately (Gilbert Sorrentino, Felipe Alfau) are already dead. I will get 'Consider the Lobster', and reread IJ for sure now, though.
Never read him, but now I might - after I re-roof the house, clean the gutters, and pour a new concrete floor for the "mudroom".
tj, i'm assuming you've read Borges. i keep coming back to his writing because it transports you to another time and place that may or may not have ever existed. "the lottery of babylon" and the one page "borges and i" may be two of my favorite pieces of literature ever.
and j, you need to read more (ha!). i'll call ya soon. gonna head up to OH the first true week of October to see our long lost cousin from Cezch.
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