Infinite Quest

I'm slowly plodding through David Foster Wallace's ambitious novel Infinite Jest. Without going into details, IJ, released in 1996 and re released in a bargain priced $10 tenth anniversary edition in 2006, is a novel just under 1100 pages (actually 981 pages followed by over 100 plus pages of "endnotes.") Any summary of the story can't do the book justice, but it's set a decade into the future with countless intertwining characters and non-linear plot lines covering addiction, politics, entertainment, commercialism, and tennis. I'm on page 580-something with 400 or more to go. At this rate it will take me a total of just under a year to get from cover to cover.

I read it probably five times a week, in short bursts of 20-30 minutes at a time, as a half hour seems to be the most I can put into it in one sitting, often because I'm reading it over lunch and must return to my cubicle, but also because it's such a brain workout. Almost without exception, I find each chapter completely engaging, but after reading a few (or often just one), and peeking ahead at the next one to see that it has nothing to do with what I just read or perhaps nothing to do with any portion of the previous 580 pages, my default reaction is to put it down and rest.

I've been reading it for a long time, but on a consistent enough basis that I've never lost track of what I think is happening. I must disclose that this is probably mostly due to the ridiculous four page bookmark that I created. Well, not so much created, but formatted. I combined chapter and character summaries written by others that are gentle in their plot details, but specific in their ability to provoke my memory, into a 4 x 6, four page, brochure style bookmark. It's a good road map of the book, and I recommend it highly to anyone beginning an infinite quest of their own, and would readily provide a digital copy to any such brave individuals. Of course it's one of those things I put together on a slow day at work, much like most things of this nature get created and posted and shared I suspect, by some unchallenged information loving technology embracing slacker who would rather create a sortable spreadsheet organizing every girl he ever kissed by height, weight, year, duration, and nature of the relationship than create another traffic simulation model. I've never actually created the kissed girl spreadsheet, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not interested now that I've come up with the idea. Freaky bookmark explanation aside, the point is that I like to read IJ in almost daily 30 minute thought provoking brain exercise doses, put it down for a day, and repeat. During the past six months, it's become much more a part of me and my life than any other book, mostly because it's constantly been by my side and vigorously engaging me for so long.

Now I must admit, my relationship with the book hasn't been without it's hitches. I first attempted to read it a few years ago and fizzled out before page 200. On this attempt, around page 300 or so (the Eschaton part), the book seemed to become a bit of a hassle again, but those feelings dissipated after a thirty minute session or two. I'm now past the curiousity stage and am completely committed and have no doubt that I will finish it.

I love the book not because of the story or the characters or anything literal from the book, but because of how constantly robust and completely consuming the book is. Despite the challenging vocabulary, never-ending endnotes, and fractured chapter structure, attention and comprehension are actually surprisingly easy (a DFW trademark, I think). In fact the book is so fractured in plot and organization that I'm beginning to think that the 30 minute session approach is the best way to read it. By consciously not just plowing through it, I've been able to patiently digest each segment, and really, if I'm going to read this bad boy, than I'm going *read* the damn thing, even if it takes the better part of a year.

At one time I thought that when finished, I would be elated about my conquest and relieved to have the burden lifted, but now I'm starting to think that more than anything I'm really just going to miss it. I've heard vague grumblings that the book doesn't really have a resolute ending, which if true could only propagate the feeling of emptiness I'm cautiously expecting. Not emptiness in a I just wasted a year of my life on a story with no ending kind of way, but emptiness in a semi-close friend moved away expectedly and with contact information in place but never calls or emails or writes kind of way. It hasn't been easy, but after all, a quest as rewarding as this one isn't supposed to be easy, and the nearer I get to the end the more I regret that it has to end at all.

Supplemental sentence added Feb 1 - Something about IJ makes those who read it want to find others on the quest.