David Foster Wallace is Dead

September 15th, 2008 at 3:08 pm

Author David Foster Wallace, 46, was found dead at home by his wife, having hung himself in the garage.

A writer of “postmodern,” “darkly ironic” tales, David Foster Wallace is best known for his 1,079-page novel Infinite Jest. I’ve only read the abridged, illustrated version.*

But I did read Wallace’s collection of short stories, A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again. The titular thing is cruising. I read it prior to going on a cruise myself. Beyond Wallace’s signature barrage of endless footnotes, which I found mostly distracting, he suffered from mild agoraphobia and therefore confined himself to his tiny cabin, missing about 85% of the obnoxious excess that makes a cruise worthwhile.

While I don’t have anything more intelligent to say about David Foster Wallace that you can find by Googleing his name right now, I do mourn his loss and find comfort in imagining a lively discussion in Hell between him, Arthur C. Clarke, and Norman Mailer.

I’m sure they’re looking down hoping we vote for Obama.

*To the best of the authwhore’s knowledge, an abridged, illustrated version of Infinite Jest does not exist.

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2 Responses to “David Foster Wallace is Dead”

  1. I’d rather he was here. Having a discussion.

  2. He died? What the hell. What’s with the suicide thing too? So strange.

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