Hello,
I am doing well. I had a working weekend, but it was great to catch up with some old friends. So it wasn't a complete loss.
Today we are going to get a little heavy and contemplative. I was checking the news online this morning when I learned about the death of David Foster Wallace. He had committed suicide on Friday night at age 46 leaving a wife and family. For a link to the article I read click here. Of course this is tragic news but it wasn't like I was a big fan of his work.
So you ask if I wasn't a big fan then how do I know this writer? Here's Some Background: As I've mentioned before, I work as a book seller. I remember when Wallace's debut novel Infinite Jest came out mainly because of it's size. If you haven't seen it, the book is massive. At 1000+ pages the book is tough to display on a shelf and intimidating to try reading. This is one of the main reasons that I have not tried it, although people have recommended it to me multiple times.
All the facts have not yet come to light so I'll try not to judge. Though I cannot help that I feel a certain amount of anger and disappointment when a writer/musician/artist chooses to take their own life. I admit that my feelings are motivated by selfishness because it means that there will be no new work. The door is shut, the machine closed down for the night so to speak.
Despite this I also try to understand that in order to reach that point emotionally a human being is beyond any rationality. The sense of despair must be immense. It's sad that no one saw the signs and tried to help David Foster Wallace. But I guess the same can be said for Kurt Cobain, Sylvia Plath, or Robert E. Howard, as well as many others. It's even harder when a family is left behind. I feel sorry for his kids.
In the end I guess perhaps there isn't much one can say. I think that this will finally motivate me to tackle one of his books, although I think it will be one of the shorter ones.
Well sorry about the morbidity this week. I hope you all have a great week.
Book Slave.
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