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lizburny's review against another edition
challenging
dark
funny
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
It is a book that pulls you in and pushes you away.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Addiction, Adult/minor relationship, Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Animal death, Bullying, Child abuse, Cursing, Death, Domestic abuse, Drug abuse, Drug use, Emotional abuse, Gore, Hate crime, Homophobia, Incest, Infidelity, Mental illness, Panic attacks/disorders, Physical abuse, Racial slurs, Racism, Rape, Sexual assault, Sexual content, Sexual violence, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Transphobia, Violence, Forced institutionalization, Islamophobia, Grief, Medical trauma, Suicide attempt, Death of parent, Murder, Schizophrenia/Psychosis , Cultural appropriation, Alcohol, and Injury/Injury detail
emily_mad's review against another edition
challenging
dark
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Incest, Mental illness, Suicide, and Violence
thepurplebookwyrm's review
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
1.75
Fuck this book. My brain hurts.
Several days later...
My brain still hurts, but I shall do my best to structure my thoughts and feelings about this bish into a semi-coherent review.
Premise:
Sike! Just kidding, this fucker doesn't really have a plot.
But fiiiiiiine...
-> Ya got Harold (yes, seriously) Incandenza, a teen prodigy studying at a tennis academy founded by his father, bopping along with his friends and getting addicted to cannabis.
-> Ya got the rest of the Incandenza family doing stuff and things.
-> Ya got a bunch of drug addicts doing drugs, fucking up their lives because they do drugs, and trying to turn their lives around at the Ennet Recovery House, all more or less centring on a character named Don Gately.
-> Ya got a government agent from the US conversing (for way too long, holy shit, and over lots of separate chapters) with a double agent from a group of Quebec separatists, about the merits and demerits of 'Murican Freedom™, and how this all relates back to brain-washing (literally) entertainment.
And it's all more or less set in a quasi-dystopian near-future when bits of north-eastern America are no longer inhabited because... something to do with "nuclear" waste actually re-wilding shit à la Area X, kinda (if I got that right). And bits of Canada aren't really... independent anymore (if I got that right). Calendar years are sponsored by various brands because not-so-subtle theming on consumerism and entertainment (and addiction). The Internet isn't really a thing like it actually is in the real world, but nor does it actually resemble cyberpunk-ish propositions. Rather, people watch a lot of tailored content on 'teleputers', and that's about it.
Oh, and there's a fuck ton of endnotes, most of which are pointless (don't fucking @ me), given they just give you pharmaceutical information on various mood- and consciousness-altering substances (a fair few of which aren't even in circulation anymore, but whatevs).
Rambling thoughts (because why shouldn't they be giving the book itself is an abject rambling mess):
1) Plot, structure or rather lack thereof: I want to formally apologise to every book I ever criticised for their lack of proper and/or conventional structure. I was but a Sweet Summer Child who clearly didn't know what true chaos of form entailed in literature. Because holy shit: Infinite Jest, in my book, barely even qualifies as a novel. There is no real plot to speak of. The structure is a sprawling mess of indulgent excess. And no, I don't give a fuck that this was probably by design, and part of the supposed "point". This shit, right here, is why peeps make fun of 'Post-Modernism' in the Arts, gah dayum. Fiction literature is a storytelling art form: I will die on this (subjective, sure, but so what!) hill, and given Infinite Jest barely, just barely, tells a cogent and meaningful story, it barely qualifies as fiction literature, as a novel. That's just how it is for me.
It was a mess: nothing justified those 1400 pages. Because what little meaningful commentary, theming, emotionality there was in this text was completely obliterated by the sheer mass of "litbabble" inflating, bloating, padding it out. Reading Infinite Jest felt like I was being force-fed words! And it made me realise that 'Horseshoe Theory' can in fact be applied to literature: if flat and too-sparse writing seldom achieves much in terms of conveying ideas, emotions, meaning, what have you, neither does its indulgently, bloatedly excessive counterpart! I sure learned that the hard way... fuck me. 🥲
2) Prose, I guess: not that it was all bad in terms of prose? I'll give Wallace this: I can tell the man could, in fact, write, in the sense that he could competently, and more or less effectively at times, switch between different writing styles. But being able to do that doesn't mean one should just shove all of them in one book, and cut them up across wildly dissonant chapters like he did. The amount of tonal whiplash I experienced reading Infinite Jest was insane. Hell, the structural whiplash I experienced wasn't any better, to come back to that. Obscenely long walls of text –not to mention obscenely long fucking sentences – alternated with snappy dialogues, drug-fuelled internal monologues, email transcripts, serialised anecdotes and political meeting minutes. Just why the actual fuck was it written that way?! Yes, it did reek of "try-hardism" in places, sue me. I didn't even mind the vocabulary: it wasn't that advanced, all things considered, but like... why am I not bothered by this shit when Miéville or Nabokov does it, hmm? Because their vocabulary gets woven into their narratives in a way that feels seamless and organic!
3) Characters: I didn't care about anyone, or anything in Infinite Jest. What I find really bizarre, however, is that for something that is 1400 pages long, I found Infinite Jest's character work surprisingly superficial, across most of its protagonists. It's not that it was non-existent, or even bad per se, but more so that I expected a lot more depth given the sheer hugeness of this... 'pseudo-tale'.
4) World-building: this one is really freaking weird genre-wise. Infinite Jest primarily reads as general fiction, yes, but it is technically set in the near-future (as imagined in the 1980s/90s by Wallace), and features a North American landscape that is a little different from our own. And I think this genre-bending choice was, not only entirely unnecessary for the book's theming (such as I read it), but just... really poorly executed. Because it was under-developed, or rather developed in a way too narrow, and thus uncommitted fashion. I felt, at times, like I was reading dystopian or lite science-fiction that has aged really, and I mean really badly – think something rather mediocre written in, say, the 1960s. If you contrast this to the kind of mild and subtle world-building you find in Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale or Butler's Parable of the Sower, Infinite Jest doesn't come off as thoughtfully prescient, it comes off as incredibly clunky – even old-fashioned in some respects.
And I repeat, its theming did not need this weird, 'speculative literature-lite' framing. Or, conversely, if Wallace really wanted to play with the idea of dystopian 'entertainment-addiction', he should've committed more fully to sheer speculation because, as it stands, I'd argue freaking Brave New World does that shit way better, and in a much more concise, not to mention memorable, manner. Basically, Wallace's chonker suffers from vaguely residing in that wishy-washy nothing genre-space 'magically realist' novels occupy.
5) Theming: the only merit I found in Infinite Jest (because no, it wasn't all negative, hence the two stars) were its bits of commentary, theming... on addiction. And, sure, linked to that: mental illness, despair, and entertainment – kind of. I say 'kind of' because, really, at the end of the day, entertainment itself is critiqued through the lens of addiction, and the destruction it wreaks on individuals and, fine, society with regards to questions of individual freedom, responsibility, etc... Though really, I think the individual tragedy of addiction is what comes through the text the most.
And yes, I'm aware this, alongside depression, is something with which Wallace was intimately familiar. This is probably why the latter point comes through the text as strongly as it does: as a fellow mental illness sufferer, I could definitely tell Wallace wrote a lot of the addiction and depression stuff straight from the source of painful experience. And as it so happens... the best parts, by lightyears, of the book were indeed (some of) those that dealt with the horror of addiction, and/or the agony of severe depression.
What maddens me, however, is that so much of that was then lost in the freaking sauce of the book's inherent, indulgent excess. And I'm left with this question: was the "Haha, gotchu!" aspect of the book – reflecting the indulgent excess of addiction by being, itself, indulgently excessive in style – really worth it, given I felt it took away from its thematic and emotional impact? I really don't think so. It's near impossible to pull off this kind of... meta-critique (I don't think that's the right concept, but fuck it) because, 90% of the time, you just end up reifying the thing you're trying to criticise. And I just don't think Wallace pulled it off.
The ending pissed me off. I'm not sure I fully "got it", but whatever, I was so fucking done with this bish. No, I didn't read every single endnote, because fuck off with that honestly and, quite frankly, if you think that emulates the 'feeling of a tennis match': a) you've never actually watched tennis, and/or b) you've never played tennis. I actually have played tennis, and seen my fair share of tennis because my parents watched a lot of it on telly. Guess what: tennis goes pretty freaking fast. But you know what doesn't go pretty freaking fast? Me having to take 10 to 20 fucking minutes to read a goddamn endnote that takes me out of the main text! So I call massive bullshit.
I was originally recommended Infinite Jest by my ex. I kinda get why he relates to this, in places, and it kind of breaks my heart honestly. But outside of that, I don't understand what he, or anyone else, finds funny about this one. Because for me, Wallace's magnum opus wasn't so much an Infinite Jest as it was, well... a Bad Joke.
PS: okay, fine, the whole 'Eschaton' thing was actually pretty funny, in a very fucked up dark humour sort of way – my ex gets exactly one point there.
Several days later...
My brain still hurts, but I shall do my best to structure my thoughts and feelings about this bish into a semi-coherent review.
Premise:
Sike! Just kidding, this fucker doesn't really have a plot.
But fiiiiiiine...
-> Ya got Harold (yes, seriously) Incandenza, a teen prodigy studying at a tennis academy founded by his father, bopping along with his friends and getting addicted to cannabis.
-> Ya got the rest of the Incandenza family doing stuff and things.
-> Ya got a bunch of drug addicts doing drugs, fucking up their lives because they do drugs, and trying to turn their lives around at the Ennet Recovery House, all more or less centring on a character named Don Gately.
-> Ya got a government agent from the US conversing (for way too long, holy shit, and over lots of separate chapters) with a double agent from a group of Quebec separatists, about the merits and demerits of 'Murican Freedom™, and how this all relates back to brain-washing (literally) entertainment.
And it's all more or less set in a quasi-dystopian near-future when bits of north-eastern America are no longer inhabited because... something to do with "nuclear" waste actually re-wilding shit à la Area X, kinda (if I got that right). And bits of Canada aren't really... independent anymore (if I got that right). Calendar years are sponsored by various brands because not-so-subtle theming on consumerism and entertainment (and addiction). The Internet isn't really a thing like it actually is in the real world, but nor does it actually resemble cyberpunk-ish propositions. Rather, people watch a lot of tailored content on 'teleputers', and that's about it.
Oh, and there's a fuck ton of endnotes, most of which are pointless (don't fucking @ me), given they just give you pharmaceutical information on various mood- and consciousness-altering substances (a fair few of which aren't even in circulation anymore, but whatevs).
Rambling thoughts (because why shouldn't they be giving the book itself is an abject rambling mess):
1) Plot, structure or rather lack thereof: I want to formally apologise to every book I ever criticised for their lack of proper and/or conventional structure. I was but a Sweet Summer Child who clearly didn't know what true chaos of form entailed in literature. Because holy shit: Infinite Jest, in my book, barely even qualifies as a novel. There is no real plot to speak of. The structure is a sprawling mess of indulgent excess. And no, I don't give a fuck that this was probably by design, and part of the supposed "point". This shit, right here, is why peeps make fun of 'Post-Modernism' in the Arts, gah dayum. Fiction literature is a storytelling art form: I will die on this (subjective, sure, but so what!) hill, and given Infinite Jest barely, just barely, tells a cogent and meaningful story, it barely qualifies as fiction literature, as a novel. That's just how it is for me.
It was a mess: nothing justified those 1400 pages. Because what little meaningful commentary, theming, emotionality there was in this text was completely obliterated by the sheer mass of "litbabble" inflating, bloating, padding it out. Reading Infinite Jest felt like I was being force-fed words! And it made me realise that 'Horseshoe Theory' can in fact be applied to literature: if flat and too-sparse writing seldom achieves much in terms of conveying ideas, emotions, meaning, what have you, neither does its indulgently, bloatedly excessive counterpart! I sure learned that the hard way... fuck me. 🥲
2) Prose, I guess: not that it was all bad in terms of prose? I'll give Wallace this: I can tell the man could, in fact, write, in the sense that he could competently, and more or less effectively at times, switch between different writing styles. But being able to do that doesn't mean one should just shove all of them in one book, and cut them up across wildly dissonant chapters like he did. The amount of tonal whiplash I experienced reading Infinite Jest was insane. Hell, the structural whiplash I experienced wasn't any better, to come back to that. Obscenely long walls of text –not to mention obscenely long fucking sentences – alternated with snappy dialogues, drug-fuelled internal monologues, email transcripts, serialised anecdotes and political meeting minutes. Just why the actual fuck was it written that way?! Yes, it did reek of "try-hardism" in places, sue me. I didn't even mind the vocabulary: it wasn't that advanced, all things considered, but like... why am I not bothered by this shit when Miéville or Nabokov does it, hmm? Because their vocabulary gets woven into their narratives in a way that feels seamless and organic!
3) Characters: I didn't care about anyone, or anything in Infinite Jest. What I find really bizarre, however, is that for something that is 1400 pages long, I found Infinite Jest's character work surprisingly superficial, across most of its protagonists. It's not that it was non-existent, or even bad per se, but more so that I expected a lot more depth given the sheer hugeness of this... 'pseudo-tale'.
4) World-building: this one is really freaking weird genre-wise. Infinite Jest primarily reads as general fiction, yes, but it is technically set in the near-future (as imagined in the 1980s/90s by Wallace), and features a North American landscape that is a little different from our own. And I think this genre-bending choice was, not only entirely unnecessary for the book's theming (such as I read it), but just... really poorly executed. Because it was under-developed, or rather developed in a way too narrow, and thus uncommitted fashion. I felt, at times, like I was reading dystopian or lite science-fiction that has aged really, and I mean really badly – think something rather mediocre written in, say, the 1960s. If you contrast this to the kind of mild and subtle world-building you find in Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale or Butler's Parable of the Sower, Infinite Jest doesn't come off as thoughtfully prescient, it comes off as incredibly clunky – even old-fashioned in some respects.
And I repeat, its theming did not need this weird, 'speculative literature-lite' framing. Or, conversely, if Wallace really wanted to play with the idea of dystopian 'entertainment-addiction', he should've committed more fully to sheer speculation because, as it stands, I'd argue freaking Brave New World does that shit way better, and in a much more concise, not to mention memorable, manner. Basically, Wallace's chonker suffers from vaguely residing in that wishy-washy nothing genre-space 'magically realist' novels occupy.
5) Theming: the only merit I found in Infinite Jest (because no, it wasn't all negative, hence the two stars) were its bits of commentary, theming... on addiction. And, sure, linked to that: mental illness, despair, and entertainment – kind of. I say 'kind of' because, really, at the end of the day, entertainment itself is critiqued through the lens of addiction, and the destruction it wreaks on individuals and, fine, society with regards to questions of individual freedom, responsibility, etc... Though really, I think the individual tragedy of addiction is what comes through the text the most.
And yes, I'm aware this, alongside depression, is something with which Wallace was intimately familiar. This is probably why the latter point comes through the text as strongly as it does: as a fellow mental illness sufferer, I could definitely tell Wallace wrote a lot of the addiction and depression stuff straight from the source of painful experience. And as it so happens... the best parts, by lightyears, of the book were indeed (some of) those that dealt with the horror of addiction, and/or the agony of severe depression.
What maddens me, however, is that so much of that was then lost in the freaking sauce of the book's inherent, indulgent excess. And I'm left with this question: was the "Haha, gotchu!" aspect of the book – reflecting the indulgent excess of addiction by being, itself, indulgently excessive in style – really worth it, given I felt it took away from its thematic and emotional impact? I really don't think so. It's near impossible to pull off this kind of... meta-critique (I don't think that's the right concept, but fuck it) because, 90% of the time, you just end up reifying the thing you're trying to criticise. And I just don't think Wallace pulled it off.
The ending pissed me off. I'm not sure I fully "got it", but whatever, I was so fucking done with this bish. No, I didn't read every single endnote, because fuck off with that honestly and, quite frankly, if you think that emulates the 'feeling of a tennis match': a) you've never actually watched tennis, and/or b) you've never played tennis. I actually have played tennis, and seen my fair share of tennis because my parents watched a lot of it on telly. Guess what: tennis goes pretty freaking fast. But you know what doesn't go pretty freaking fast? Me having to take 10 to 20 fucking minutes to read a goddamn endnote that takes me out of the main text! So I call massive bullshit.
I was originally recommended Infinite Jest by my ex. I kinda get why he relates to this, in places, and it kind of breaks my heart honestly. But outside of that, I don't understand what he, or anyone else, finds funny about this one. Because for me, Wallace's magnum opus wasn't so much an Infinite Jest as it was, well... a Bad Joke.
PS: okay, fine, the whole 'Eschaton' thing was actually pretty funny, in a very fucked up dark humour sort of way – my ex gets exactly one point there.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Drug abuse and Mental illness
Minor: Animal cruelty and Sexual violence
Drug abuse and mental illness – depression specifically – are central themes/thematic explorations of Infinite Jest. Some characters, who are drug addicts, also talk about their experiences with sexual violence, or with harming animals.julziez's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Addiction, Adult/minor relationship, Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Animal death, Body horror, Body shaming, Death, Drug abuse, Drug use, Fatphobia, Gore, Gun violence, Homophobia, Mental illness, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Racism, Rape, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Torture, Transphobia, Violence, Forced institutionalization, Xenophobia, Blood, Excrement, Vomit, Antisemitism, Medical content, Grief, Suicide attempt, Death of parent, Alcohol, and Injury/Injury detail
edick's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
funny
lighthearted
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
Man, I might be ensnared by the feelings I have from finishing this amazing piece, so the almost-5 might be impulsive, but I absolutely loved Infinite Jest.
Wallace’s style and flow of writing is truly mesmerizing. His insertion of minute details may seem sporadic at first, but as I moved through IJ I found a calculated precision that revealed itself slowly, as you see everything tie into itself. I know that this is a popular one to reread, and I plan on it, but I was so crushed when I hit the last page. I haven’t got a feeling like this since East of Eden — Wallace absolutely immerses you in a scattered mix of O.N.A.N. locales, and I was so sad to not have any more to explore.
There’s just so much I can ramble about with this one. Overall, Infinite Jest just displays so much… humanity, I’d say. I don’t think it’s for everyone, but so many elements of the lens Wallace viewed the world with ring true to me. So much incredible, subtle humor enmeshed in some absolutely desolate, crushing vignettes of Enfield’s inhabitants stumping through life. There are so many absolutely bizarre fragments here, but simultaneously it all feels so raw & authentic.
I realized it not too far in, but the weird MFA-litbro reputation Infinite Jest has these days is absurd. Wallace’s prose is so fun, so addicting, but with pretty substantial depth and agility. It doesn’t really talk down to ya, but he throws in some interesting word choice and concepts to keep you on your toes. Yes, it’s long and winding, but like many amazing “non-linear” works its beauty simply unfolds the more you immerse yourself.
Wallace’s style and flow of writing is truly mesmerizing. His insertion of minute details may seem sporadic at first, but as I moved through IJ I found a calculated precision that revealed itself slowly, as you see everything tie into itself. I know that this is a popular one to reread, and I plan on it, but I was so crushed when I hit the last page. I haven’t got a feeling like this since East of Eden — Wallace absolutely immerses you in a scattered mix of O.N.A.N. locales, and I was so sad to not have any more to explore.
There’s just so much I can ramble about with this one. Overall, Infinite Jest just displays so much… humanity, I’d say. I don’t think it’s for everyone, but so many elements of the lens Wallace viewed the world with ring true to me. So much incredible, subtle humor enmeshed in some absolutely desolate, crushing vignettes of Enfield’s inhabitants stumping through life. There are so many absolutely bizarre fragments here, but simultaneously it all feels so raw & authentic.
I realized it not too far in, but the weird MFA-litbro reputation Infinite Jest has these days is absurd. Wallace’s prose is so fun, so addicting, but with pretty substantial depth and agility. It doesn’t really talk down to ya, but he throws in some interesting word choice and concepts to keep you on your toes. Yes, it’s long and winding, but like many amazing “non-linear” works its beauty simply unfolds the more you immerse yourself.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Animal cruelty, Animal death, Domestic abuse, and Alcohol
Moderate: Drug abuse, Drug use, Homophobia, Mental illness, Panic attacks/disorders, Racial slurs, Suicide, and Murder
Minor: Transphobia and Xenophobia
nickds's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Animal death, Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Drug abuse, Drug use, Incest, Mental illness, Pedophilia, Self harm, Sexual content, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Suicide attempt, Death of parent, Alcohol, and Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Child death and Deadnaming
surdiablo's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Alright, I have put off writing this review for so long since I felt I needed to mull over it for a while and the process felt somewhat daunting. It's time to finally express my thoughts regarding this literary behemoth that's been taunting me for a while. As you can imagine from the rating, I have mixed feelings, although my overall impression is positive. This will be a short ramble without much eloquence, but with indirect spoilers so brace for impact if you choose to read it in its entirety. As usual, I will start with the good, the bad, and the ugly.
So DFW was undoubtedly a genius and an extremely talented writer, no argument there. This sprawling interconnected narrative takes a lot of chops to pull off and that's what impressed me the most, along with his realistic depiction of addiction and mental health crises. Various characters with their distinct voices develop throughout the scrambled timeline of the story. It explores several themes and concepts like what it means to be truly free, the advancement of technology, the influence of media in society, and so forth, which for the most part was well-executed. The way he switches between different POVs was impressive and occasionally jarring, alongside his footnotes within footnotes, which ranged from significant to superfluous. The chapters featuring Marathe and Steeply were among my favorite sections since they involved lots of philosophical musings, and the AFR plot in general was fantastic. The humor, often dark, got plenty of random chuckles from me at the most unexpected times. Several passages left me awestruck thinking to myself "Damn, this man can write!". Regardless of the cons I am about to list, I can see why this book is revered and there are moments of brilliance I simply can't deny the existence of.
But I'm afraid that's where my praises end. Infinite Jest, despite all its merits, is ultimately too bloated and self-indulgent for me to fully appreciate. A lot of people seem to mention how the experience felt rewarding to piece info together from footnotes and random tangents, but I found it to be a chore for the majority. ( I don't care much about drugs or tennis, so that was always gonna be difficult tbh, so your mileage may vary ). There were moments it worked well, the filmography list for example, but all the pharmaceutical descriptions and meandering did nothing to serve the overall narrative or pacing. ( No, I don't care if switching back and forth between footnotes emulates a tennis match! ). The difficulty felt purely artificial, things were often complicated just for the sake of it, and almost half of the novel is DFW just flexing himself, entire sections existing solely to showcase his intellectual prowess which I found pretentious. Now I'm fine with the occasional self-indulgent writing but in this case, it became annoying after the first half. While being realistic, there's plenty of repetition regarding addiction which did not need to be hammered down as it was. I did enjoy the overall story, although it would have been preferable to get a more conclusive ending for other characters besides Hal and Gately but I know that's moot since it's a post-modern book. Many might disagree, but I concur with the sentiment that there's an amazing 500 to 700-page book in there somewhere. Ultimately, it was a journey with peaks of brilliance and valleys of frustration. I do not regret reading it, it just didn't blow me away like I thought it would. I'm not the biggest fan of post-modernism anyway so if the themes strike your fancy, certainly go ahead. The experience is certainly one of a kind, for better or worse.
P.S. It didn't bother me, but there's plenty of disturbing imagery as well if you are planning to read it but wasn't aware. Enough to make me add this at the end. 😄
So DFW was undoubtedly a genius and an extremely talented writer, no argument there. This sprawling interconnected narrative takes a lot of chops to pull off and that's what impressed me the most, along with his realistic depiction of addiction and mental health crises. Various characters with their distinct voices develop throughout the scrambled timeline of the story. It explores several themes and concepts like what it means to be truly free, the advancement of technology, the influence of media in society, and so forth, which for the most part was well-executed. The way he switches between different POVs was impressive and occasionally jarring, alongside his footnotes within footnotes, which ranged from significant to superfluous. The chapters featuring Marathe and Steeply were among my favorite sections since they involved lots of philosophical musings, and the AFR plot in general was fantastic. The humor, often dark, got plenty of random chuckles from me at the most unexpected times. Several passages left me awestruck thinking to myself "Damn, this man can write!". Regardless of the cons I am about to list, I can see why this book is revered and there are moments of brilliance I simply can't deny the existence of.
But I'm afraid that's where my praises end. Infinite Jest, despite all its merits, is ultimately too bloated and self-indulgent for me to fully appreciate. A lot of people seem to mention how the experience felt rewarding to piece info together from footnotes and random tangents, but I found it to be a chore for the majority. ( I don't care much about drugs or tennis, so that was always gonna be difficult tbh, so your mileage may vary ). There were moments it worked well, the filmography list for example, but all the pharmaceutical descriptions and meandering did nothing to serve the overall narrative or pacing. ( No, I don't care if switching back and forth between footnotes emulates a tennis match! ). The difficulty felt purely artificial, things were often complicated just for the sake of it, and almost half of the novel is DFW just flexing himself, entire sections existing solely to showcase his intellectual prowess which I found pretentious. Now I'm fine with the occasional self-indulgent writing but in this case, it became annoying after the first half. While being realistic, there's plenty of repetition regarding addiction which did not need to be hammered down as it was. I did enjoy the overall story, although it would have been preferable to get a more conclusive ending for other characters besides Hal and Gately but I know that's moot since it's a post-modern book. Many might disagree, but I concur with the sentiment that there's an amazing 500 to 700-page book in there somewhere. Ultimately, it was a journey with peaks of brilliance and valleys of frustration. I do not regret reading it, it just didn't blow me away like I thought it would. I'm not the biggest fan of post-modernism anyway so if the themes strike your fancy, certainly go ahead. The experience is certainly one of a kind, for better or worse.
P.S. It didn't bother me, but there's plenty of disturbing imagery as well if you are planning to read it but wasn't aware. Enough to make me add this at the end. 😄
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Drug abuse, Gore, Mental illness, and Physical abuse
Moderate: Animal cruelty, Incest, Pedophilia, Racial slurs, and Sexual violence
charlottekm's review against another edition
3.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal cruelty, Animal death, Drug abuse, Drug use, Mental illness, Racial slurs, Racism, and Schizophrenia/Psychosis
rho21's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Drug abuse
Moderate: Suicide attempt
Minor: Drug use, Mental illness, and Sexual content
lichtwelle's review against another edition
challenging
dark
funny
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Drug abuse, and Violence
Moderate: Animal cruelty, Child abuse, Mental illness, Sexual violence, and Suicidal thoughts
Minor: Adult/minor relationship, Suicide, and Torture