Today I finished the longest book I've ever read: Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace.
I felt like I should write at least something about it in a blog post, considering that I spent about two-and-a-half months reading it exclusively, which, now that I think about it, is really not that long in the grand scheme of things. But book worked itself into both my conscious and subconscious thoughts in that period of time, and it's hard to let go of the story, especially considering how frustratingly and abruptly the story ends. Ari read the book before me, and really loved it, which I think was part of my motivation for picking it up in the first place. However, he also prepared me for the disappointment of getting through all 1,000+ pages and feeling like there could have been at least another 1,000 or so more. (Not that I WANT to read anymore! I'm perfectly happy to be done with it!)
I've now spent the last two hours researching different analyses and interpretations of the story, and it's just making me even more frustrated. I'm glad I was able to get insight into the strange, amazing, and extremely twisted mind of a writer like David Foster Wallace. However, now that I have finished his "masterwork", I think I can safely say that I don't need to read any more of his fiction.
And that concludes my rather incoherent rambling on this topic.
No comments:
Post a Comment