He [Wallace] sent a quick note to his friend [Franzen] explaining his behavior. the bold fact is that I'm a little afraid of you right now,[...] all I can tell you is that I may have been that [a wort...
When David Markson wrote in June to complain about an author's getting an award he though should have been his, Wallace gently warned him away from the pitfall of envy: Mostly I try to remember how lu...
A publisher sent him a galley of a novel by a writer he had barely heard of, one that impressed him deeply and seemed to embody all the literary qualities he had called for in his fictional Futures es...
Grammar, he saw, was agreement, community, consensus.
He found he was popular, known for a loose style and an appealing willingness to digress. We spend most of our time talking about Twin Peaks and The Simpsons so they think I am an okay caballero, he t...
I go through a loop in which I notice all the ways I am - for just an example - self-centered and careerist and not true to standards and values that transcend my own petty interests, and feel like I'...
Quoted Lewis Hyde, whose pamphlet on John Berryman and alcohol he had read in his early months at Granada House: Irony has only emergency use. Carried over time, it is the voice of the trapped who hav...
Centerless pop-culture country full of marginalized subnations that are themselves postmodern, looped, self-referential, self-obsessed, voyeuristic, passive, slack-jawed, debased.
Beef industry, that was very good news. But a few Americans were not reassured. They weren’t convinced the USDA had done what it could to protect them. They knew that the agency’s image as a protector...
There is a sense—again brought to full boil in Infinite Jest—that our obsession with being entertained has deadened our affect, that we are not, as a character warns in that book, choosing carefully e...
That was it exactly—irony was defeatist, timid, the telltale of a generation too afraid to say what it meant, and so in danger of forgetting it had anything to say.
It is the ultimate metafictional act, not homicide but suicide. (Wallace would say that one of the problems of metafiction is that there is no difference.)
In the age of media, we are nothing but minds waiting to be filled, emotions waiting to be manipulated.
In dark times, the definition of good art would seem to be art that locates and applies CPR to those elements of what’s human and magical that still live and glow despite the times’ darkness.
His anguish, he wrote, had multiple sources, from a fear of fame to a fear of failure. Behind the ordinary fears lurked the fear of being ordinary.
He told his roommate that when he was writing, I can’t feel my ass in the chair.
He hoped they could meet in Boston soon to 'drink or eat or whatever.' Franzen in turn suggested a Red Sox game.
He found Fraden, the department head, exactly how he hoped she’d be. They soon had a standing date to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer every Tuesday night at her house. As
American writers were still content to describe an ironic culture when they should be showing the way out.
America was, Wallace now knew, a nation of addicts, unable to see that what looked like love freely given was really need neurotically and chronically unsatisfied.