On DFW

I know I'm expected to comment on this, but I feel a bit bad that my reaction isn't what I'd like it to be. Yes: it's sad that a tremendous talent was cut short. That said, I never managed to get into Infinite Jest, nor the essays, though I keep trying because they're favorites of a number of people whose literary opinions I respect. Very honestly, I find his writing like statuary: obviously difficult to construct, displaying genius on the part of the crafter, but cold, hard, and remote. I've always reacted poorly to the preciousness and self-congratulatory tone in the essays I've attempted, but, then, I've never taken well to pretty much anything pomo. At times, that feels like a personal failing. Perhaps I'll keep trying.

Furthermore, most suicides -- pretty much all that can't be considered as euthanasia -- make me angry rather than sad. It might be too much time in Asia that's talking, but a person -- every person -- has a certain social embeddedness. And with that, comes a concomitant responsibility. Moreover, a man who kills himself in such a way as to be discovered by his wife isn't merely ending personal pain, he's engaging in one of the most savagely aggressive and cruelly wounding acts possible. I find it difficult to go from those circumstances to accolades celebrating his humanity and sensitivity.