![]() ![]() ![]() This 1997 collection of essays features some of the writer’s best, including a dispatch from the set of a David Lynch movie (where Wallace never gets closer to Lynch than a glimpse of his subject peeing), a piece from the Illinois State Fair (“the air like wet wool”), the title meditation on the existential sadness of luxury cruises (maid service complete with “a creeping guilt, a deep accretive uneasiness, a discomfort that presents … a weird kind of pampering-paranoia”) and a profile of middling tennis pro Michael Joyce that eclipses his better-known essay on tour ace Roger Federer. Recently, however, I began to listen to the audio book version of A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again and to be honest I'm more frustrated/angry than I. A Supposedly Fun Thing Ill Never Do Again Essays and Arguments. I've read nearly everything he's done from Infinite Jest to Pale King to Consider the Lobster. ![]() Not just because of the acid insights or creeping melancholy, but because his mastery of language and powers of observation so dwarf our own. David Foster Wallace is one of my favorite writers of all time alongside Pynchon and Camus. David Foster Wallace has been the recipient of so much praise since his death in 2008 that perhaps it’s best to contribute a gripe. ![]()
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