I did not know that he was dead.

Posted by mofembot Sun, 24 May 2009 10:39:00 GMT

As it was on his List of Gift Suggestions, and as I am more and more incapable of coming up with decent presents that I think up all by myself, I bought Consider the Lobster for Mr Mo for Christmas. I just finished reading it last week, so when dirkster42 cheered books in a comment in Cheers & Jeers the other day, I sprang in and chirruped my satisfaction to the world (as it were):

Just finished David Foster Wallace’s Consider the Lobster. His review on the American usage book was utterly brilliant and amazingly funny. – In fact, all the essays were, though I (who still struggle with prudishness because of my conservative Mormon upbringing) thought it would have been better not to have put Red Son as the first entry. (It’s about the Porn Industry’s Academy Awards, and is, um… gosh. Blush. Titter. Swoon.)

But then someone asked a question in response to my comment, and I googled for the answer… which is when I (re)discovered that David Foster Wallace, this incredible writer, one of the very best writers I have ever read, had killed himself last September after losing a lifelong struggle against depression.

When I expressed my profound dismay, Mr Mo asked if I’d been “under a rock” to have been unaware of Wallace’s death. Well, the answer is no: I did in fact vaguely recall seeing some tributes on DKos and elsewhere when he died last year. But, see, until now I hadn’t really read his work, hadn’t until now made any connection as a fellow SNOOT,* hadn’t had any reason to know why his death (among so many deaths) represented such an enormous loss for the literary world (and also for the world at large: his was a truly moral and honest voice).

Even at this late date, some 8 months later, learning anew via Rolling Stone of his death now that I know him… hit me viscerally and hard, not the least reason being that depression was his killer, and I do indeed understand depression so deep and malignant that it draws death closer.

As I seek out more of his work to read, I know I will finish each story, each book, each essay with tears in my eyes, no matter how hard I will laugh and how delighted I will be at his deft use of language as I am reading: I was lucky, very lucky, and David Foster Wallace was not, and the world is much poorer for his passing.

*”SNOOT” is Wallace’s acronymic term for people who deeply, genuinely, and anal-retentively care about correct and effective language use, per his essay “Authority and American Usage” in Consider the Lobster. If you want to know what SNOOT stands for, I encourage you to read the essay.

(Cross-posted at DailyKos.)

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On the road again (and again, and again...)

Posted by mofembot Sun, 17 May 2009 11:41:00 GMT

In about an hour I will have to leave for the Marseille airport after an unexpected weekend home (I don’t feel like talking about it right now). Unfortunately, a direct flight from and to Frankfurt was too expensive to manage, so I’m on a KLM flight that connects through Amsterdam, thereby prolonging the trip by several hours. I will not get back to Heidelberg until around midnight, I think. (I’d been in Heidelberg this past week to reacquaint myself with the vagaries of my German client’s internal software, and to get acquainted with the people with whom I will be working long distance for much of the summer; I will be back here in France “definitively” as of this coming Thursday, Ascension Day.)

As I get older, I seem to find traveling more tiring. “No duh,” I hear you say. I should clarify: I still like traveling when it’s to someplace interesting and new. Business travel, however, rarely qualifies. And since my business days tend to be jam-packed with business-related activities and tasks — and none moreso than when working for my German client, because invariably my other major client, based in Paris, has work for me to do for them concurrently — the prospect of a too-late arrival home (assuming all flights are on time) and having to leave my rented room by 7h30 tomorrow morning (by agreement with my landlady, who uses my room for babysitting)… tires me just thinking about it.

On the plus side, I have no luggage to check in, and I brought with me a bunch of clothes that I’m leaving here in Aix-en-Provence, so I will be traveling light indeed. (Ever looking on the bright side, that’s me.) The weather in Germany will continue to be on the cool side, but it looks like the rain may have finally stopped. With any luck, I may have enough time to see something fun on Thursday morning before I head back to the airport. And definitely on the plus side, at least Mr Mo and I will be on the same connecting flight from Amsterdam to Marseille on Thursday evening.

Bon voyage to us all.

UPDATE: It was on this journey that I found myself in Schiphol airport in Amsterdam just before boarding time for my connecting flight. As it turned out, the flight to Frankfurt was at a gate right next to a flight to Marseille, and boarding times were about five minutes apart. As I looked at the two gates and destinations, I honest-to-god could not remember if I was coming or going, and had to look at my boarding pass so as to get into the right line. Sheesh.

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