raincorbyn's review against another edition
1.0
Nope. Made it 1/3 of the way through. I get it, PoMo through the roof, quirkily named characters aware they're in stories while they tell stories that also affect the main narrative, and absurdism to the point of nihilism. Pass. This just pushed my inevitable Infinite Jest attempt another 5 years down the line.
sweetpeppah's review against another edition
3.0
wildly creative and interesting scenarios.. but all the therapy and musings on existence got old.
dustin_frueh7921's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
funny
informative
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
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
4.0
Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden. They’re long and thin and splay-toed, with buttons of yellow callus on the little toes and a thick stair-step of it on the back of the heel, and a few long black hairs are curling out of the skin at the tops of the feet, and the red nail polish is cracking and peeling in curls and candy-stripped with decay.
In The Broom of the System, debut novelist David Foster Wallace attempted to explore the provisional truths of identity and the journey of self-discovery. Thrown into the fray in ways which almost felt intuitive, were themes revolving steadily around religion as opposed to fate, as well as the perilous nature of fanaticism; and about relationships and of the human condition. He seemed particularly interested in the tug and pull nature of psychology and philosophy. Twenty-four year old Wallace presented those themes and scenarios in ways that could perhaps come across as somewhat abstract to the uninitiated reader, and perhaps because I was moderately familiar with his style and prose, the novel was fairly easy to understand. I walked away with an even deeper appreciation for post-modernism and philosophical theory (the bulk of which was a direct reaction to Austrian-British philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein, and his ideas surrounding linguistics. In fact, Wallace had gone on record saying that his book could be seen as a conversation between the Wittgenstein and Jacques Derrida.
One of the most impressive aspects of it was just how fun Wallace made the overall reading experience. Given the intellectual backdrop, one might be afraid of the prose being overly complicated, dense, and possibly even trite. Nothing could be further from the truth. Not in my experience, at least. What’s more, he brought an abundance of life, strength, and agency to these characters that made the journey with them much more profound than I could’ve imagined.
His worldbuilding was original, creative, and exceptionally clever. His style lent itself nicely to a world which was perhaps more complex than the real world at the time of its publication. Wallace’s world was primarily set in 1990, but it was an alternate, or parallel, world, in East Corinth, Ohio. As the term might imply, there were similarities to the late 80s and early 90s, but a lot of the creative mechanisms he used were frankly, fascinating and awe-inspiring. The magic and beauty of his writing wasn’t necessarily the uber creativity or Big Picture Thinking. For me, it was the abundance of small details, the subtleties among a vastly larger world.
J: ”I smell breakthrough. The truth is that there’s no difference between a life and a story? But a life pretends to be something more? But it really isn’t more?”
L: “I would kill for a shower.”
J: “What have I said? What have I said? I’ve said that hygiene anxiety is what?”
L: “According to whom?”
J: “Ejection remains an option. Don’t misdirect so transparently. According to me and to my truly great teacher, Olaf Blentner, the pioneer of hygiene anxiety research…”
L: “Hygiene anxiety is identity anxiety.”
J: “I am gagging on the stench of breakthrough.”
L: “I’ve been having digestive trouble, too, really, so don’t…”
Through there were several characters and a few subsequent POV’s, Wallace’s primary focus was on Lenore Stonecipher Beadsman, a young and naïve telephone switchboard operator, whose main focus was providing adequate customer service. It wasn’t too long, however, before the sudden disappearance of her great-grandmother (a patient at the Shaker Heights Nursing Home,) took her mundane life and challenged everything she had held so dear. With those absurd scenarios, her life could only become more complicated and chaotic.
It was through Gramma Lenore that the protagonist, Lenore, became familiar with Wittgenstein’s philosophies. The early writings of Wittgenstein, in particular, seemed to have contributed to the core values and beliefs she would place on her life. They essentially come to dominate her life and filled her with an existential dread.
”Suppose Gramma tells me really convincingly that all that really exists of my life is what can be said about it… If there’s nothing about me but what can be said about me, what separates me from the lady in this story Rick got who eats junk food and gains weight and squashes her child in her sleep? She’s exactly what’s said about her, right? And same with me, seems like. Gramma says she’s going to show me how a life is words and nothing else. Gramma says words can kill and create. Everything.
Essentially, the questions she’s wrestling with, and the questions that Wallace implores of the reader, concern identity and purpose in the world. Are we merely the occupations and adjectives that others see? Are we simply the things we purchase and consume, or do they consume us? Are we something more, or less, than mere words would suggest?
There’s something else to be said about The Broom of the System: the playful means of exploring his characters and the unique roles they inhabited in their personal and professional lives. It’s baffling how he could juggle as much as he did, as skillfully as he did, and at such a young age. The result was an enriching story, filled with angst and lore and a profound understanding of what it means to be human.
For the most part, the narrative was linear, though not without its fair share of intellectual pique. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be a David Foster Wallace novel without its difficulties, some of which included entire scenes lacking context, and whose only insights were dialogue. In fact, there was only one scene that seemed overly difficult and complex, albeit very interesting. Others yet were written as professional transcripts, oddball journal entries, and several fictitious accounts of the strange and the heartbreakingly tragic. Similar to a lot of what he wrote later, Broom was also very meta. Like a Russian doll, there were stories within stories, within stories, and some of the more touching moments took place between Rick Vigorous and Lenore, as he read stories aloud to her.
Lenore’s journey to find Gramma Lenore was a strange one. Many parts it of were hilarious, particularly after Vlad the Impaler was introduced and everything that came with that. What followed can be described in many ways, but I’d call it an absurd clarity. That is, clear until the ending, which was the most bizarre and absurd series of events that the book had to offer. It’s probably the weirdest conclusion I’ve ever read. But, was it actually a “conclusion,” and what exactly was Wallace trying to convey with it?
On the one hand, the obvious response would be that the author was heavy-handedly playing with the expectation of the reader. I think he was also giving commentary on our need to find answers. We want to defy and explain the mysterious and wrap them up neatly—even beautifully—with an elaborate bow. But what he did here was equally frustrating and admirable. It took a certain audacity to subvert the reader’s expectations and I respect that. Was I, or am I still, somewhat disappointed with the risks he took? Admittedly, yes. It would’ve been nice to have a little more clarity, a little more questions answered. But I also can’t imagine it unfolding any other way.
If he had written your typical ending, complete with all—or most—questions answered, I wouldn’t appreciate it as much. I wouldn’t respect it. Frankly, doing the socially expected thing would have cheapened it, and all of his playful linguistics prior would’ve been moot.
Attachment to things, to places, to other living beings requires in my view expenditures of energy and attention far in excess of the value of the things thus brought into the relation of attachment. Does this seem unreasonable? The attempt to have the order of one’s life depend on things and persons outside that life is a silly thing, a thing perhaps appropriate only for those weaker, less successful, less fortunate, less advanced that I.
Would I recommend The Broom of the System, though, seems to be the pertinent question, doesn’t it? The fact of the matter is, and I’ve sure you’ve heard it before, but it bears repeating: the writings of David Foster Wallace aren’t for everyone. His work is definitely polarizing. I loved it, as I’ve loved everything of his that I’ve read so far (Girl with Curious Hair, Infinite Jest, and a handful of his essays,) but I don’t consider myself your typical reader. I’m very analytical, diverse, and I’m constantly striving to learn new things; to evolve and to be the best version of myself. But if my review has piqued your interest, and if you enter it expecting a very unconventional ending, then you might just have a fun time with it.
In The Broom of the System, debut novelist David Foster Wallace attempted to explore the provisional truths of identity and the journey of self-discovery. Thrown into the fray in ways which almost felt intuitive, were themes revolving steadily around religion as opposed to fate, as well as the perilous nature of fanaticism; and about relationships and of the human condition. He seemed particularly interested in the tug and pull nature of psychology and philosophy. Twenty-four year old Wallace presented those themes and scenarios in ways that could perhaps come across as somewhat abstract to the uninitiated reader, and perhaps because I was moderately familiar with his style and prose, the novel was fairly easy to understand. I walked away with an even deeper appreciation for post-modernism and philosophical theory (the bulk of which was a direct reaction to Austrian-British philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein, and his ideas surrounding linguistics. In fact, Wallace had gone on record saying that his book could be seen as a conversation between the Wittgenstein and Jacques Derrida.
One of the most impressive aspects of it was just how fun Wallace made the overall reading experience. Given the intellectual backdrop, one might be afraid of the prose being overly complicated, dense, and possibly even trite. Nothing could be further from the truth. Not in my experience, at least. What’s more, he brought an abundance of life, strength, and agency to these characters that made the journey with them much more profound than I could’ve imagined.
His worldbuilding was original, creative, and exceptionally clever. His style lent itself nicely to a world which was perhaps more complex than the real world at the time of its publication. Wallace’s world was primarily set in 1990, but it was an alternate, or parallel, world, in East Corinth, Ohio. As the term might imply, there were similarities to the late 80s and early 90s, but a lot of the creative mechanisms he used were frankly, fascinating and awe-inspiring. The magic and beauty of his writing wasn’t necessarily the uber creativity or Big Picture Thinking. For me, it was the abundance of small details, the subtleties among a vastly larger world.
J: ”I smell breakthrough. The truth is that there’s no difference between a life and a story? But a life pretends to be something more? But it really isn’t more?”
L: “I would kill for a shower.”
J: “What have I said? What have I said? I’ve said that hygiene anxiety is what?”
L: “According to whom?”
J: “Ejection remains an option. Don’t misdirect so transparently. According to me and to my truly great teacher, Olaf Blentner, the pioneer of hygiene anxiety research…”
L: “Hygiene anxiety is identity anxiety.”
J: “I am gagging on the stench of breakthrough.”
L: “I’ve been having digestive trouble, too, really, so don’t…”
Through there were several characters and a few subsequent POV’s, Wallace’s primary focus was on Lenore Stonecipher Beadsman, a young and naïve telephone switchboard operator, whose main focus was providing adequate customer service. It wasn’t too long, however, before the sudden disappearance of her great-grandmother (a patient at the Shaker Heights Nursing Home,) took her mundane life and challenged everything she had held so dear. With those absurd scenarios, her life could only become more complicated and chaotic.
It was through Gramma Lenore that the protagonist, Lenore, became familiar with Wittgenstein’s philosophies. The early writings of Wittgenstein, in particular, seemed to have contributed to the core values and beliefs she would place on her life. They essentially come to dominate her life and filled her with an existential dread.
”Suppose Gramma tells me really convincingly that all that really exists of my life is what can be said about it… If there’s nothing about me but what can be said about me, what separates me from the lady in this story Rick got who eats junk food and gains weight and squashes her child in her sleep? She’s exactly what’s said about her, right? And same with me, seems like. Gramma says she’s going to show me how a life is words and nothing else. Gramma says words can kill and create. Everything.
Essentially, the questions she’s wrestling with, and the questions that Wallace implores of the reader, concern identity and purpose in the world. Are we merely the occupations and adjectives that others see? Are we simply the things we purchase and consume, or do they consume us? Are we something more, or less, than mere words would suggest?
There’s something else to be said about The Broom of the System: the playful means of exploring his characters and the unique roles they inhabited in their personal and professional lives. It’s baffling how he could juggle as much as he did, as skillfully as he did, and at such a young age. The result was an enriching story, filled with angst and lore and a profound understanding of what it means to be human.
For the most part, the narrative was linear, though not without its fair share of intellectual pique. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be a David Foster Wallace novel without its difficulties, some of which included entire scenes lacking context, and whose only insights were dialogue. In fact, there was only one scene that seemed overly difficult and complex, albeit very interesting. Others yet were written as professional transcripts, oddball journal entries, and several fictitious accounts of the strange and the heartbreakingly tragic. Similar to a lot of what he wrote later, Broom was also very meta. Like a Russian doll, there were stories within stories, within stories, and some of the more touching moments took place between Rick Vigorous and Lenore, as he read stories aloud to her.
Lenore’s journey to find Gramma Lenore was a strange one. Many parts it of were hilarious, particularly after Vlad the Impaler was introduced and everything that came with that. What followed can be described in many ways, but I’d call it an absurd clarity. That is, clear until the ending, which was the most bizarre and absurd series of events that the book had to offer. It’s probably the weirdest conclusion I’ve ever read. But, was it actually a “conclusion,” and what exactly was Wallace trying to convey with it?
On the one hand, the obvious response would be that the author was heavy-handedly playing with the expectation of the reader. I think he was also giving commentary on our need to find answers. We want to defy and explain the mysterious and wrap them up neatly—even beautifully—with an elaborate bow. But what he did here was equally frustrating and admirable. It took a certain audacity to subvert the reader’s expectations and I respect that. Was I, or am I still, somewhat disappointed with the risks he took? Admittedly, yes. It would’ve been nice to have a little more clarity, a little more questions answered. But I also can’t imagine it unfolding any other way.
If he had written your typical ending, complete with all—or most—questions answered, I wouldn’t appreciate it as much. I wouldn’t respect it. Frankly, doing the socially expected thing would have cheapened it, and all of his playful linguistics prior would’ve been moot.
Attachment to things, to places, to other living beings requires in my view expenditures of energy and attention far in excess of the value of the things thus brought into the relation of attachment. Does this seem unreasonable? The attempt to have the order of one’s life depend on things and persons outside that life is a silly thing, a thing perhaps appropriate only for those weaker, less successful, less fortunate, less advanced that I.
Would I recommend The Broom of the System, though, seems to be the pertinent question, doesn’t it? The fact of the matter is, and I’ve sure you’ve heard it before, but it bears repeating: the writings of David Foster Wallace aren’t for everyone. His work is definitely polarizing. I loved it, as I’ve loved everything of his that I’ve read so far (Girl with Curious Hair, Infinite Jest, and a handful of his essays,) but I don’t consider myself your typical reader. I’m very analytical, diverse, and I’m constantly striving to learn new things; to evolve and to be the best version of myself. But if my review has piqued your interest, and if you enter it expecting a very unconventional ending, then you might just have a fun time with it.
joelevard's review against another edition
3.0
This book flat-out demands a multi-layered meta-review. I mean, it has everything a po-mosexual could ask for: characters aware they might be characters in a novel, nested short stories read by the characters that comment on the parent text, an intentionally unresolved and fractured plot, pages and pages of ironic philosophical dialogue, and an ending that just
Unfortunately, that level of post-modern detachment requires real talent, the talent of, say, David Foster Wallace. Yet DFW famously criticized this, his debut novel, as reading like the work of a hyper-literate 14-year-old. Maybe. 14-year-olds aren't generally known for their restraint and this book includes everything, whether it works or not. The thing is, an astonishing amount of it does work, provided, of course, you are into this sort of thing. It is very much of a muchness: an evangelical talking parrot, a global conspiracy involving baby food, missing senior citizens, secret chemical formulas, childhood sexual obsession, mirages in a man-made desert, a fat man occupying infinite space, a character named Wang Dang Lang. You have to just go with it. It helps that it is really, really funny. Don't let the pout and that stupid bandanna (and, you know, the tragic way he died) fool you: DFW was a funny man.
This review in inadequate. But it is aware of that fact. Onto Infinite Jest! I have a feeling this was just a warm-up.
Unfortunately, that level of post-modern detachment requires real talent, the talent of, say, David Foster Wallace. Yet DFW famously criticized this, his debut novel, as reading like the work of a hyper-literate 14-year-old. Maybe. 14-year-olds aren't generally known for their restraint and this book includes everything, whether it works or not. The thing is, an astonishing amount of it does work, provided, of course, you are into this sort of thing. It is very much of a muchness: an evangelical talking parrot, a global conspiracy involving baby food, missing senior citizens, secret chemical formulas, childhood sexual obsession, mirages in a man-made desert, a fat man occupying infinite space, a character named Wang Dang Lang. You have to just go with it. It helps that it is really, really funny. Don't let the pout and that stupid bandanna (and, you know, the tragic way he died) fool you: DFW was a funny man.
This review in inadequate. But it is aware of that fact. Onto Infinite Jest! I have a feeling this was just a warm-up.
beatsbybeard's review against another edition
2.0
A self-aware, post-modern, Wittgensteinian exploration of language, function, and identity that floated far above my head for all 467 pages. There were pieces that were entertaining, even legitimately funny, but it was just too damn long and too damn opaque for this uneducated mope. Plus, I'm waiting for some much more pertinent books about race to arrive, and the Whiteness seeped like an over-mayoed club sandwich. Sticking to DFW's essays on the chance that I return (much) further down the road.
adamz24's review against another edition
3.0
DFW said of The Broom of the System that it "seems like it was written by a very smart 14 year old." He's sort of right. Sort of.
It's minor Wallace. It contains nothing of the tremendous emotional range, brilliant characterization, and ingenious narrative drive of Wallace's other two novels and his better short stories. It is a collegiate novel which contains one too many snarkily dismissive lines about collegiate writing. It desperately seeks to attain the sort of tone and really really human quality of Wallace's later writing (even some of the stuff in his Girl With Curious Hair collection, published not too long after this), but ends up falling into too many predictable traps. It was written after Wallace read The Crying of Lot 49 and is so similar in some respects that it reads like a pale Pynchon imitation at times, with significant debt also to DeLillo and also to the whole zany farce comedy meets pomo lit type thing.
Worst of all, this is the only thing Wallace has written which maybe fits the description certain varieties of dung beetle attribute to him (soulless writer obsessed by pomo trickery, unnecessarily verbose and lacking in substance etc. etc.)
All of which is not even to say that this is bad or close to bad etc. It's a really, really entertaining book. It's funny as fuck (gut-bustingly funny on occasion, f'real) and whatnot and so on and so forth and contains some amazingly amusing and imaginative and sad and weird and effective and affecting bits and overall hangs together well enough that few aside from the grumpiest readers of Wallace's later fiction will object too strenuously to the book's many faults, nearly all of which are forgivable once we get to the final bit with the bird on TV and also the very ending of the book which is just terrific on so many levels.
It's minor Wallace. It contains nothing of the tremendous emotional range, brilliant characterization, and ingenious narrative drive of Wallace's other two novels and his better short stories. It is a collegiate novel which contains one too many snarkily dismissive lines about collegiate writing. It desperately seeks to attain the sort of tone and really really human quality of Wallace's later writing (even some of the stuff in his Girl With Curious Hair collection, published not too long after this), but ends up falling into too many predictable traps. It was written after Wallace read The Crying of Lot 49 and is so similar in some respects that it reads like a pale Pynchon imitation at times, with significant debt also to DeLillo and also to the whole zany farce comedy meets pomo lit type thing.
Worst of all, this is the only thing Wallace has written which maybe fits the description certain varieties of dung beetle attribute to him (soulless writer obsessed by pomo trickery, unnecessarily verbose and lacking in substance etc. etc.)
All of which is not even to say that this is bad or close to bad etc. It's a really, really entertaining book. It's funny as fuck (gut-bustingly funny on occasion, f'real) and whatnot and so on and so forth and contains some amazingly amusing and imaginative and sad and weird and effective and affecting bits and overall hangs together well enough that few aside from the grumpiest readers of Wallace's later fiction will object too strenuously to the book's many faults, nearly all of which are forgivable once we get to the final bit with the bird on TV and also the very ending of the book which is just terrific on so many levels.
nguyenlibrary's review against another edition
4.0
Great language and stories within stories. I want to read more from this author now.
tonybz's review against another edition
adventurous
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0