Month of Glad

As we prepare to enter what will surely be International David Foster Wallace Month (a day seems paltry, a year is just greedy), here is an old interview from The Believer, which includes the following, one of DFWs many dog references. After reading the book-length interview that is Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself, these have almost come to seem metonymic not only for all kinds of DFW’s concerns, but also for the still-pointed sadness of his absence.

If you live by yourself and have dogs, things get strange. I know I’m not the only person who projects skewed parental neuroses onto his pets or companion-animals or whatever. But I have it pretty bad; it’s a source of some amusement to friends. First, I began to get this strong feeling that it was traumatic for them to be left alone more than a couple hours. This is not quite as psycho as it may seem, because most of the dogs I’ve ended up with have had shall we say hard puppyhoods, including one past owner who went to jail… but that’s neither here nor there. The point is that I got reluctant to leave them alone for very long, and then after a while I got so I actually needed one or more dogs around in order to be comfortable enough to feel like working

Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself

The wonderful Wyatt Mason has a review of Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace by David Lipsky in the latest New York Review of Books. WM makes some good points about DFW’s willingness to explore the various sofas, couches, ottomans, divans, chaise lounges and footstools that constitute our mental furniture. He argues that there was nothing ‘un-edited’ about DFW’s stories and novels (if memory serves, Infinite Jest had about 500 pages cut from it). For my part, I have a copy of Lipsky’s book glaring at me right now. There is a dog on the cover. His name is Drone.

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