Category: infinite summer

This evening, after work and a haircut and dancing, I sat down to read a bit of Infinite Jest. A few minutes ago, I reached the section break of page 507, which, according to the Index, means I am just over 51% of the way finished with the book. Also according to the Index, I don’t need to be there until August 6th. Meaning that, despite my struggles with the novel, at least I’m still reading! And I’m likely going to finish ahead of schedule – or, at the very least, I have a buffer so if I experience a setback, I can finish on time.

I love the comics featured at this post from Infinite Summer. Like the character in the first comic, I feel like I’ve been reading this for 100 years. Except I’ve only been reading for a month! I can’t believe how long this month has felt in my reading life. And I imagine I’ll feel the same way at the end of August, too. Even though I’m struggling and I expect I’ll feel lukewarm about the content (though not the style, which I adore), I’m going to finish this thing.

So the whole plan to blog about the entire Infinite Jest reading process clearly fell apart. Blame it on life.

But just because I haven’t been blogging doesn’t mean I haven’t been reading. In fact, I’m well ahead of schedule. I’m currently on page 434, and I only need to be on page 295 if I want to finish on time. Hooray for that!

I feel especially accomplished because my initial enjoyment for the novel faded pretty quickly. I adore Wallace as a prose stylist. I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to see him deliver the 2005 commencement address at Kenyon College. I think his nonfiction is brilliant. But I’m not particularly enjoying Infinite Jest.

There are moments of stylistic brilliance, of course, and that’s what keeps me hanging on. Well, that, as well as sheer determination to finish the book, to be able to say that I read it all the way through, from first page to final endnote. And there are plot points I enjoy. Just about everything that has to do with Ennet House Drug and Alcohol Recovery House has me hooked. But the plot about the Enfield Tennis Academy bores me. I don’t know if it’s because I generally find high school boys to be uninteresting literary subjects (Lord of the Flies and The Catcher in the Rye both bore me), or because not enough is happening to sustain my interest, but those sections just don’t do it for me. Nor do the bits about international intrigue.

*shrug* Well, it’s not for everybody. At least I’ll be able to say I gave it a fair shake.

I got up to page 55 today.

In recent months, I’ve complained quite a bit about literary fiction. Much of what I read in literary journals bores me. It’s beautiful, elegant – and nothing happens. I’ve gotten quite enamored with well-written genre fiction which, as one person put it, has both action and ambiance. Given that just last week I was complaining about lit fic, I was nervous about whether or not I’d really enjoy Infinite Jest. I was beginning to wonder whether or not I could still appreciate literary stories. And then, on page 49, I realized I was going to love this book.

I can’t quite explain the specific reasons why I’ve suddenly decided I like the book. There was nothing specific. I just read “Hal likes to get high in secret, but a bigger secret is that he’s as attached to the secrecy as he is to getting high.” I don’t even get high. But something about that line – it hit me on such a visceral level, that I was hooked. It doesn’t matter what our secrets are; for many people, what mattes is that we have a secret at all. There’s something about having that hidden nugget of your life that helps you feel in control, despite all the variables and chaos you have to deal with on a daily basis. Just a thought, something worth exploring later.

There’s no turning back now. I’m looking forward to the journey of this book.

Most of what I read today touched on themes of secrecy, and since that’s what really stuck with me today, I’m looking forward to seeing where the secret motif goes as the book continues. I might try to focus on that throughout my reading, because I know this book will go in so many directions, it might be good to pick a thread and use that to guide my explorations. Or maybe I’ll go off in another direction. Or maybe I’ll end up directionless. We’ll see.

Finishing out today on page 42. Reading this was a lovely way to spend my lunch hour.

Assorted thoughts:

• Forget the footnotes. I can’t read this book unless I’m in the presence of a dictionary! Not that I’m complaining. This will be the most work I’ve done to expand my vocabulary since I stopped being a student.
• “I’m an O.E.D. man, Doctor. If that’s what you are.” – I’m totally an O.E.D. woman. I hope to be able to use this line someday in conversation.
• “Praying for just one conversation, amateur or no, that does not end in terror? That does not end like all others: you staring, me swallowing?”  – I feel like an unfortunate number of my conversations end this way. I pray that I get one, sooner or later, that does not end in terror.
• I’m not a big fan of the medical attache. Interesting that 47 pages into a very long novel, I’ve found two characters that I don’t like, and I’m still inclined to keep reading.
• “Year of the Trial-Size Dove Bar” broke my heart.

I’m ending day one a bit ahead of schedule; I read halfway through page 27 on my lunch hour at work.

Some miscellaneous thoughts:

• I skipped the Eggers introduction. I don’t typically like to read introductions when I’m starting something new and exciting. I wanted to go into this book not knowing anything (other than it’s awesome, and it’s long, and there are endnotes). I’ll read the Eggers introduction when I’m done.
• This book is going to expand my vocabulary. I’ve already had to look up three words. Whee!
• “My chest bumps like a dryer with shoes in it”  – best line of fiction ever?
• “The integrity of my sleep has been forever compromised, sir.”  – I hope I get to use this line someday.
• I don’t like Erdedy. But I love that Wallace has made him so unlikeable.
• “He . . . realized intellectually that the feeling of deprived panic over missing something made no sense.” – I need to remember this more often.