Friday, July 12, 2024

Infinite Jest: Pages 258-375: Tennis, the Incandenzas, Gately, Quebec Separatists

Shard-like fragmentation, prisms of reflected light, shafts of it exploding outward into the human reader's consciousness. How can it all cohere? And where do these meanderings lead?

There's tennis. This we know. Gerhardt Schtitt and Aubrey deLint, the clipped-consonant-named coaches at good old E.T.A. (The Enfield Tennis Academy). The kids, a school of them, from near babes to adult wannabes, names that appear and that gradually, over hundreds of pages, become personalities; John Wayne, Michael Pemulis, Teddy Schacht, Postal Weight, Ann Kittenplan, Jim Troeltsch, Ortho "The Darkness" Stice.

This is a jock novel. Sports. Sweat. Aching young bodies. Lyle the sweat-licking guru in the weight room. Locker room musings.

Oh but wait. The simmering weirdness unfolds through returned-to narratives and set pieces. Those not-quite-chapter breaks when one thread of narrative comes to a halt and the next salvo explodes from below. This is not strictly a jock book at all. 

The Incandenzas start to come into view, and that view is Gothic, all blood-colored mist and dysfunction, alcohol-steeped, twisted. They are a deeply unsettling family, each individual damaged in some way, quirky, lonely, gifted but socially-challenged and, in the case of Himself, James Orin Incandenza, the besotted patriarch, avant-garde filmmaker, tennis academy founder, a suicide.

The matriarch, Avril, tall and thin, a grammarian, smokes and holds an administrative position at E.T.A which she co-founded with James O. Mother or Orin and Hal and, possibly (though hinted as not likely) Mario (whose father may actually be C.T. Tavis, Avril's half-brother, possibly explaining Mario's deformities). 

Orin, the eldest son of James O. and Avril (nee Mondragon), an athlete but a failed tennis player and, as we the readers are introduced to him, a football (as in American football) punter in Arizona. Former boyfriend of, wait for it, Joelle van Dynne.

Mario, the second son who may or may not be the biological son of James O., physically deformed, a savant and, like his (maybe) father, a filmmaker. He wobbles but doesn't fall down.

Hal, the youngest, the tennis prodigy, the weed-smoking, precocious polymath who memorizes entries from the OED. An ETA standout but moody with evident addiction issues.

And there's the Gately and the Ennet House recovery facility (in close proximity to E.T.A., the Enfield Tennis Academy). Crime, addiction, recovery, Boston AA meetings, the sordid violent underside of serious addicts' lives, all of which gets explored in horrific scenes of depravity, mayhem, desperation.

This is how these two main themes connect: Tennis/ETA (and its cast of characters all with some particular dysfunction) and the Ennet House/Gately (and it's cast of characters as well - Randy Lenz, Erdedy, Joelle van Dynne, Charlotte Treat, Bruce Green, Kate Gompert, et. al.) have in common addiction & dedication (to tennis or to sobriety) and all the struggles that either entail. And those struggles unfold in dramatic and quirkily observant scenes and set pieces, in descriptions that dazzle, and in sinuous sentences that conjure the grotesque and the banal and often drape them in humor or sadness.  

The third main theme that emerges does so out of the dystopian future in which the novel is set. It seems like current time (circa the 1990s) but the USA has morphed and the geopolitical structure of North America has become O.N.A.N, the Organization of North American Nations. This includes the former sovereign nation of Canada, a contingent of whose population (namely, the Quebecois) are, at the very least, disheartened by the new reality and, to the most extreme, have organized active resistance cells to attack the former-USA and endeavor to separate Quebec from the Great Concavity (a roughly 4 state-sized area of land, formerly Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, and some of New York State that has been turned into a gigantic waste disposal area) and, by extension, from O.N.A.N.

Hence, the Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents, "...pretty much Quebec's most dreaded and rapacious anti-O.N.A.N terrorist cell." (endnote#39a pg 994). 

For a deeper dive into the Quebec separatist issue, see endnote #110 beginning on page 1004 and ending on page 122 (a freaking whopper). The endnote presents, among smaller diversions, a long phone conversation between Hal and punter brother Orin, the latter of whom has inquired of his boy genius brother about the Quebec issue and what can he (Hal) tell him (Orin) about it; the ensuing transcript lays out a lot of worthwhile history to the present crisis.

Oh, and here's the tie-in twist. The Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents seek "The Entertainment" i.e. Infinite Jest, the capitvatingly deadly interlace entertainment cartridge, the great weapon (so the Separatists think) with which to wage war on O.N.A.N. Made by Himself, James Orin Incandenza, and featuring (we come to learn) Madame Psychosis herself, the veiled one, Joelle van Dyne. 



Sunday, May 5, 2024

Infinite Jest: Interlude Over: Pages 127-258

"Mmyellow"

You can almost hear DFW answering the phone, a land line, maybe a rotary phone. But this is Hal's phone answering standard.

Phew! That was quite an interlude. Six years. Actually, 8 years. But who's counting? Let's pick this up again. 

We're reading Infinite Jest, the 20th anniversary paperback from Back Bay Books (2015). We started in 2016 but circumstances intervened and we paused.

In the years since much has happened. #MeToo and the whole revelation of DFW's fucked-up-ness (as if IJ wasn't a crystal ball insight into the man himself). Tales to tell, darts to hurl, judgment to pass. DFW has lost his literary shine. And worse.  

Patricia Lockwood and her London Review of Books 2023 takedown (volume 45 Number 14 July 13 2023), for example.

(PL):

"Infinite Jest - man, I don't know. Perhaps I would have enjoyed it more had the rhetorical move not so often been 'and then this little kid had a claw.' It's like watching someone undergo the latest possible puberty. It genuinely reads like he has not had sex. You feel not only that he shouldn't be allowed to take drugs, but that he shouldn't be allowed to drink Diet Pepsi." (PL, LRB 2023)

She asks "What are we learning when we discover that someone was not good." 

It seems that PL has come to pronounce judgment. That she is reading to find what she is looking for.

But enough of Patricia Lockwood.

Let's refocus.

This whole  bloggy effort started out as a 3 way "read Infinite Jest" among friends; two friends quickly dropped out leaving me to carry on.

I paused in 2016. I was 127 pages in, my second time reading it.

I have now reread from the beginning, powered through the first 127 pages with a feeling of "ah, it's good to be back" and kept going and here we are 257 pages in. DFW's familiar voice telling me stories, making me laugh.

Light bulbs of understanding going on reading the Hal/Orin phone call (starting on pg 242 (5 NOVEMBER - YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT). Incandenza family history.

We will get to summaries and comments on those intervening 100+ pages but the important broad generalization is that the second time around things become much clearer the characters more familiar the plot lines less obscure and more intertwined the whole "what the fuck is going on?!" frustrations and sentiments of a first time reading tempered by the gradual then sudden understanding of what's going on.

Though "what's going on" maybe isn't the best phrase to employ for IJ. More apt might be to say that what was, upon first reading, disparate & obscure & rife with uncertain connections/characters/plot lines become, on the second reading, a gradual cohesion of connectivity and a familiarity with the myriad different characters (most of whom have weird and unlikely names that are often harsh awkward in the mouth [e.g. Troeltsch, deLintt, Schacht]).

Pages 127-258 Madame Psychosis aka Joelle van Dyne; Michael Pemulis; James Incandenza aka Himself; the Incandenzas as a twisted family of oddities; Hal the stoner tennis prodigy; his deformed brother Mario; Gately the criminal; Poor Tony and addiction. Junkie crime, horrific scenes you cringe reading.

Addiction. Shot through the book like glacial layers of deposited desperation. This is the sadness that juxtaposes the hilarity.

A comfortable clarity now reading this for a second time. Open attention to the actual writing, the tale-telling, the descriptive power.

NOTE: Helpful additional sources consulted since first attempt at second reading IJ; Every Love Story is a Ghost Story (D.T. Max), essays, the interviews with Michael Silverblatt, The Pale King, Conversations with David Foster Wallace (University Press of Mississippi Stephen J. Burn, editor), Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself  (David Lipsky), In the Land of Men: A Memoir (Adrienne Miller). 







Tuesday, May 25, 2021

Bedlam

And then there was Bedlam.



Friday, September 15, 2017

Amorphous

Accidental Image

I see a variation of the laughing face that adorned the credits of some early Three Stooges shorts. Something funny, but also a hint diabolical. Sometimes it's impossible to discern meaning from the quivering and ever-changing Semiotics of the day-to-day; this is where your creative mojo kicks in. 

The ability to see unique wonder in the banal detritus of our industrial nation lives. The eye twitch of brain synapse that distills a glance into a Zen-like zap of beauty or symmetry or conundrum; the visceral perception of something fleeting or ephemeral that nevertheless makes the heart hum or entrances the eyes in delightful vision; the sudden apprehension of a building's detail that causes you to smile wanly.

Rubbing a cat's belly

You don't have to go to any trouble to notice things; you just have to look around with interest and curiosity. And allow yourself the luxury of unfiltered observation, allow yourself the pleasure of creating your own visual enjoyment by noticing the weird or enigmatic detail somewhere on the vast sheet of your Total Daily Landscape. It is there, that odd juxtaposition, that elegantly spontaneous composition that jumps out at you from the plastic surround, you can ascertain it, you can etch it into your gravitational spin, but you have to be open to it.

You have to have your head up, your eyes surveying the landscape. You cannot be staring at the screen in the palm of your hand. Living and noticing combats staring and clicking.

Out of nothing




Saturday, August 26, 2017

Eclipse

Lescaret and a partial eclipse of the sun
August 21, 2017

Sunday, July 23, 2017

With No Time Left to Fool Around




Tour de France 2017
They said it was something else   
but when the truth came out
many people were left chagrined,
wondering how they'd been so
easily deceived.

Sometimes there's nothing to say. There is only the blurry horizon line
sinking into evening.

On the off chance
that ale falls from the sky
and roast lambs sprout
from barren fields, do not
stop to question your 
good fortune.
Eat and drink like
someone with no time
left to fool around.


Friday, July 14, 2017

Vermeer in the Tour

Two riders

"... two riders were approaching and the wind began to howl."