Call number
814.54 WAL
Collection
Publication
Back Bay Books (2007), 343 pages
Description
For this collection, Wallace immerses himself in the three-ring circus that is the presidential race in order to document one of the most vicious campaigns in recent history. Later he strolls from booth to booth at a lobster festival in Maine and risks life and limb to get to the bottom of the lobster question. Then he wheedles his way into an L.A. radio studio, armed with tubs of chicken, to get the behind-the-scenes view of a conservative talk show featuring a host with an unnatural penchant for clothing that looks good only on the radio. Do lobsters feel pain? Did Franz Kafka have a sick sense of humor? What is John Updike's deal anyway? And who won the Adult Video News' Female Performer of the Year Award the same year Gwyneth Paltrow won her Oscar? Wallace answers these questions and more.--From publisher description.… (more)
User reviews
LibraryThing member absurdeist
In lieu of standard review (supposedly a "review" I know I'll never write again),
**[“Dude, it's just lobsters man, relax.]**
interspersed within whatever the hell this is (homage? tribute? unconscionable crap?) I’m presently composing now
**[“Why do you care so deeply about lobsters? Don’t
are snippets from an imaginary one-sided conversation. a brief and hideous interview, I had with the late DFW recently;
**[“Mr. Wallace, if you'll pardon my transgression as I regress to alluding to earlier famous essay of yours, can’t you suck down some margaritas and just enjoy the damn cruise?]**
said fantasy monologue acting, I believe, as curious catharsis, channeling my loss -- strangely personal,
**[“You tell us lobsters’er basically gigantic insects, that folks on the coast of Maine call ‘em ‘bugs,’ so what are you...I don't see you lugubriating about the unethical treatment of escargot!"]**
though simultaneously distant and, I guess, vicarious?, if that’s the right word, which I don't think it is (I mean, I obviously didn’t know DFW
**[“I’ll admit I’ve never really considered the lobster like you have, Mr. Wallace, and if I’ve ever considered lobsters before buying your book (besides acknowledging that they taste mmm-mmm good, dip ‘em in butter, mmm), I’ve considered them disgustingly overgrown, underseawater cockroaches.”]**
even though his writing spoke to me and untold others about everything and more, as in Moses-and-the-Burning-Bush-Speak, as if he were indeed (not necessarily Yahweh or Allah or Buddha) but my/our dearest most understanding friend) -- into, what?,
**[“Remove their pincers, paint ‘em black – voila! -- you got yerself a ‘roided up sea salted cockroach -- yuck"]**
something “productive?”; nah, what the hell does that mean?-- that’s the sort of disingenuous drivel DFW loathed; or,
**[“I’m just jesting about the lobsters, Mr. Wallace, I admire your enriching, truly educational and edifying, disturbing even, ultra-linguistic meta-analysis of ethics/morality-Maine-Lobster-Festivalish"]**
channeling to maybe expunge the nebulous, hard to mentally grasp and accurately articulate, grief over DFWs death, (why it’s so painful to me when I didn’t literally know him beyond his books/interviews) out of my head, onto the page,
**[“Forgive my sentimentality, Dave – and what’s so necessarily automatically wrong with being somewhat sentimental at times anyway?!”]**
so that my heart can maybe intervene and somehow translate these emotions in-transit through the oblivion between my brain and the page in order to …in order to what?...make sense of it?...
**[“But I’m already remembering you fondly, perhaps even sentimentally – despite your assumed omnipresent protestations of hyper-literary-vigilance against said syrupy nostalgia -- and despite what you did.”]**
make sense of the bewildering incomprehensibility of what you did, of that which will never be explained, only hinted at in essays and fictions, because the only person who could possibly explain it to us, is now dead?
**[Nevermind, Mr Wallace, I'm obviously confused from so much considering, searching for answers to infinite questions only you'd think to ask.]**
**[“Dude, it's just lobsters man, relax.]**
interspersed within whatever the hell this is (homage? tribute? unconscionable crap?) I’m presently composing now
**[“Why do you care so deeply about lobsters? Don’t
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you think you maybe, just maybe, you might care a wee bit too much about bottom-dwellers?”]**are snippets from an imaginary one-sided conversation. a brief and hideous interview, I had with the late DFW recently;
**[“Mr. Wallace, if you'll pardon my transgression as I regress to alluding to earlier famous essay of yours, can’t you suck down some margaritas and just enjoy the damn cruise?]**
said fantasy monologue acting, I believe, as curious catharsis, channeling my loss -- strangely personal,
**[“You tell us lobsters’er basically gigantic insects, that folks on the coast of Maine call ‘em ‘bugs,’ so what are you...I don't see you lugubriating about the unethical treatment of escargot!"]**
though simultaneously distant and, I guess, vicarious?, if that’s the right word, which I don't think it is (I mean, I obviously didn’t know DFW
**[“I’ll admit I’ve never really considered the lobster like you have, Mr. Wallace, and if I’ve ever considered lobsters before buying your book (besides acknowledging that they taste mmm-mmm good, dip ‘em in butter, mmm), I’ve considered them disgustingly overgrown, underseawater cockroaches.”]**
even though his writing spoke to me and untold others about everything and more, as in Moses-and-the-Burning-Bush-Speak, as if he were indeed (not necessarily Yahweh or Allah or Buddha) but my/our dearest most understanding friend) -- into, what?,
**[“Remove their pincers, paint ‘em black – voila! -- you got yerself a ‘roided up sea salted cockroach -- yuck"]**
something “productive?”; nah, what the hell does that mean?-- that’s the sort of disingenuous drivel DFW loathed; or,
**[“I’m just jesting about the lobsters, Mr. Wallace, I admire your enriching, truly educational and edifying, disturbing even, ultra-linguistic meta-analysis of ethics/morality-Maine-Lobster-Festivalish"]**
channeling to maybe expunge the nebulous, hard to mentally grasp and accurately articulate, grief over DFWs death, (why it’s so painful to me when I didn’t literally know him beyond his books/interviews) out of my head, onto the page,
**[“Forgive my sentimentality, Dave – and what’s so necessarily automatically wrong with being somewhat sentimental at times anyway?!”]**
so that my heart can maybe intervene and somehow translate these emotions in-transit through the oblivion between my brain and the page in order to …in order to what?...make sense of it?...
**[“But I’m already remembering you fondly, perhaps even sentimentally – despite your assumed omnipresent protestations of hyper-literary-vigilance against said syrupy nostalgia -- and despite what you did.”]**
make sense of the bewildering incomprehensibility of what you did, of that which will never be explained, only hinted at in essays and fictions, because the only person who could possibly explain it to us, is now dead?
**[Nevermind, Mr Wallace, I'm obviously confused from so much considering, searching for answers to infinite questions only you'd think to ask.]**
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LibraryThing member Periodista
For those who have never read Wallace's nonfiction before, this isn't the essay collection to start with. A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again has more winners that I read over and over, with the piece on taking a cruise an absolute gem.
That book also has accounts of the Illinois State Fair
The funny piece on a porn movie awards show in Las Vegas is really more Wallace's element. Yes, it's as tacky and ridiculous as you might expect, but he also gets the perspective of the addled waiters as the awards dinner, just like he did with Tibor (the Tibster) in the cruise story.
The piece of Updike the misogynist makes you wonder why Wallace wasn't given more chances to take on these grand old men. Wouldn't he have been good on Roth and Bellow?
Also spot on is the review, from Harper's, of a new Oxford book on American usage. He really zeroes in on the author/editor's premises, whether he's liberal or conservative, yadda yadda. Maybe this only interests copy editors and their fans, but it was a lot more interesting that the review in A Supposedly Fun Thing of some text on deconstructionism or something. Then there was a strange visit to some obscure right-wing talk show host in Southern Calfornia; why would anyone outside the region and time give a damn.
Maybe the John McCain profile would have seemed more interesting if I hadn't read Michael Lewis's very similar treatment in a book covering the Dole election (whenever that was). The two writers have the same problem: they know very little about *policy* and have little interest in learning more. They both like and admire McCain and, without thinking very much, assume that;s all readers and voters want or need to know. Lewis went through the whole campaign, so he's the worst offender; he never tried to grasp the platforms of any of the candidates in that race. Well, regardless, we all know all this color stuff about McCain many times over by now; Wallace's piece doesn't age well.
That book also has accounts of the Illinois State Fair
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and a top-level tennis tournament. This volume has a visit to the Maine lobster vessel but it doesn't reach the peaks (well, digressions and ruminations) that the earlier volume did. Instead he pretty much settles on mulling over where lobsters feel pain (they seem to) and thus whether we should be eating or cooking then. He would have made a good popular science writer. The funny piece on a porn movie awards show in Las Vegas is really more Wallace's element. Yes, it's as tacky and ridiculous as you might expect, but he also gets the perspective of the addled waiters as the awards dinner, just like he did with Tibor (the Tibster) in the cruise story.
The piece of Updike the misogynist makes you wonder why Wallace wasn't given more chances to take on these grand old men. Wouldn't he have been good on Roth and Bellow?
Also spot on is the review, from Harper's, of a new Oxford book on American usage. He really zeroes in on the author/editor's premises, whether he's liberal or conservative, yadda yadda. Maybe this only interests copy editors and their fans, but it was a lot more interesting that the review in A Supposedly Fun Thing of some text on deconstructionism or something. Then there was a strange visit to some obscure right-wing talk show host in Southern Calfornia; why would anyone outside the region and time give a damn.
Maybe the John McCain profile would have seemed more interesting if I hadn't read Michael Lewis's very similar treatment in a book covering the Dole election (whenever that was). The two writers have the same problem: they know very little about *policy* and have little interest in learning more. They both like and admire McCain and, without thinking very much, assume that;s all readers and voters want or need to know. Lewis went through the whole campaign, so he's the worst offender; he never tried to grasp the platforms of any of the candidates in that race. Well, regardless, we all know all this color stuff about McCain many times over by now; Wallace's piece doesn't age well.
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LibraryThing member nohablo
The perfect marriage of head and heart. Loopily earnest and self-reflexive with a terrifying capacity to understand and understand: not just brain-straining theories, but - more impressively - people. Feels and writes the world with all nerve endings exposed, at once rawly disappointed at the
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overall state of meanness and pettiness and inhumanity, but still, somehow, achingly hopeful. Never simple, never reductive, always great. Show Less
LibraryThing member joshberg
This thoroughly brilliant book of essays probably deserves 5 stars; my only quibble is that as a collection it asks a lot of the reader. DFW's metafictional take is effective and charming, with footnotes and annotations that are at least as entertaining as the more traditional text they complement.
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But since this is a series of essays, the PoMo approach can start to feel like too much of a good thing. Still, the subjects are varied and wonderful--among other adventures, the author spends time at the Adult Video Awards, on John McCain's 2000 Straight Talk Express bus, and visiting a late-night radio shock-jock--and the observations surprising, illuminating and witty. Show Less
LibraryThing member elsyd
I probably would have been more open to David Foster Wallace had the book been rearranged. I was offended by the first essay, Big Red Sun.This author is quite amazing. Smart, talented and leaned! I probably wouldn't pick up something by him again, or reccomend this book to a friend, but it was
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definately informative. Show Less
LibraryThing member mrtall
More incandescent prose from one of my favorite essayists. DFW is in fine form throughout, with particularly good pieces on the 'seamy underbelly' of lexicography, John McCain's 2000 presidential campaign, a porn convention, a talk radio host, the works of Dostoyevsky, and the eponymous
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crustaceans. I can never make up my mind: Wallace is famous for his copious use of footnotes and other digressions; is he self-indulgent (i.e. he can't bear to leave out even a single pearl of his wisdom) or is he instead a hyper-considerate, even nervous, writer who's obsessed with avoiding confusion or leaving himself open to misinterpretation? Either way, his style works for me, so I'd highly recommend this volume. Show Less
LibraryThing member basilisksam
For once the hype is deserved. Have to admit I'd never come across him before his death and the first thing I read was a piece in "The Guardian" which impressed me so much I went out and found Lobster. It's especially impressive how he searches out everything there is to know about lobsters and
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whether they can feel pain without ever preaching for or against eating them. His description of the porn industry and the porn awards show succeeded in making me feel revulsion towards it in a way that any number of feminist authors have failed to do in the past. That's quite some feat. Show Less
LibraryThing member Stbalbach
It's a shame it took Wallace's untimely death to remind me I had not yet read the Lobster book. I read Supposedly Funny Thing a few years ago and was blown away. Reading Wallace the world is new again, I'll never see the things he describes the same again. He can write about any subject in any
The most memorable/important essays for me include "Up, Simba" in which Wallace was a journalist attached to John McCain's 2000 Presidential campaign. In "Big Red Son" he covers the adult video awards ceremony in Vegas. In "Authority and American Usage" he writes a novella-length book review of a dictionary - probably the greatest and most informative book review I have ever read, and which made me want to buy the dictionary and raised my interest in linguistics in general (although Wallace does that in all his essays).
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genre (book review, political journalism, tourism, etc..) and set a new standard of what is possible. Even if the subject matter is arcane or mundane, you still end up learning huge important universal things, it almost doesn't even matter what the subject of his essays are about, they are all just profound. I can't help coming away after reading Wallace feeling like my IQ has improved by a few points. The old saying, books are the company you keep. It is no wonder his death has affected so many. It's a terrible loss, an authors most productive years are often in their 40s-60s, Wallace was just getting started, but he was productive, and there is a lot to be thankful for.The most memorable/important essays for me include "Up, Simba" in which Wallace was a journalist attached to John McCain's 2000 Presidential campaign. In "Big Red Son" he covers the adult video awards ceremony in Vegas. In "Authority and American Usage" he writes a novella-length book review of a dictionary - probably the greatest and most informative book review I have ever read, and which made me want to buy the dictionary and raised my interest in linguistics in general (although Wallace does that in all his essays).
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LibraryThing member jnyrose
A fascinating collection of essays that range in subject from the porn industry to lobsters to political campaigns but never lose their basic faith in humanity or sense of humor and occasional puzzlement about what humanity gets up to. Each essay is carefully set out to provoke a well-thought out
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response in its readers. And, often, make them laugh as they think about changing some aspect of their lives or the world. Show Less
LibraryThing member mana_tominaga
Dyamic engaging collection of essays on various topics ranging from the annual adult porn industry awards to Kafka's humor to lobsters.
LibraryThing member br77rino
David Foster Wallace is the wittiest writer I've read. I put him right up there with Douglas Adams and H.L. Mencken. His criticisms and observations of contemporary life are a joy to read for anyone who at times feels exasperated by modern society.
LibraryThing member DaniSkye
Nobody writes like DFW: read this book.
LibraryThing member PatriciaUttaro
I like Wallace's voice, but I ahve to say I was a little turned off by the lengthy first section about the porn industry. It could easily have been half as long and still packed a punch.
LibraryThing member MarthaJeanne
The title essay is the only one even vaguely worth reading, and it is about three stars. In its favour is also that there are few footnotes, and the main text mostly stays at a readable size. I have not read the essays that have been printed in a wild variety of font sizes out of respect for my
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eyes. I should have passed on the others out of respect for my brain. Show Less
LibraryThing member expatrick
This book is awesome
LibraryThing member Laatsch
Wallace has a refreshingly intellectual viewpoint on a wide variety of issues, from the politics of food, to pornography, to musings on patriotism post 9/11. He challenges our assumptions about these topics, but never loses sight of the human aspects of his topics
LibraryThing member Lacy.Simons
rereading in honor of the lobster festival here in rockland, which we just survived again...
LibraryThing member comixminx
A substantial, chewy read with more footnotes than you could shake a stick at. Seriously, don't read this if you don't like footnotes cos dude there are f'notes on f'notes.
As a collection of essays, of course the level of interest in the various items will vary. The first essay in particular - Big
Pausing only to give an honourable mention to the chapter on John McCain's entry into the 2000 presidential race - interesting partly because of subsequent events of course - the other chapter that stuck in my mine was the last one, about radio talk-show host John Ziegler. It was full of good analysis of just why noxious right-wing talk show radio has become so popular and such big business; and it also outlined quite what a horrible-sounding so-and-so the talk show host in question actually is. (I looked him up afterwards and his most recent activity has involved being a fervent Sarah Palin supporter, which about says it all.) All that and a mad layout that is a sort of instead-of-footnoting, gone more bonkers than you'd think likely or feasible. But it's fun!
As a collection of essays, of course the level of interest in the various items will vary. The first essay in particular - Big
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Red Son - was really not that hot a hit. It hotted up a bit with the next chapter, where Wallace gave John Updike a well-deserved good kicking; but the one I really liked a lot was the chapter on Authority and American Usage - lexicography, language geekery, and both footnotes and endnotes for 60 pages! Yeah ok maybe that won't float your boat but I loved it. Particularly cos it was even about a book published by us, heh heh... All that and the Private Language Argument too! Cor. I nearly expired with geeky happiness.Pausing only to give an honourable mention to the chapter on John McCain's entry into the 2000 presidential race - interesting partly because of subsequent events of course - the other chapter that stuck in my mine was the last one, about radio talk-show host John Ziegler. It was full of good analysis of just why noxious right-wing talk show radio has become so popular and such big business; and it also outlined quite what a horrible-sounding so-and-so the talk show host in question actually is. (I looked him up afterwards and his most recent activity has involved being a fervent Sarah Palin supporter, which about says it all.) All that and a mad layout that is a sort of instead-of-footnoting, gone more bonkers than you'd think likely or feasible. But it's fun!
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LibraryThing member ecw0647
A series of lucid, well-written, essays on a variety of topics. Reminiscent of John McPhee's better essays with a moral tinge, a linkage of the aesthetic with the moral, if you will. The one on the reaction of people in Bloomington/Normal Illinois to 9/11 is both insightful and poignant. I
This is not the kind of book you want to listen to in the car with your kids or grand-kids. In the third essay, his descriptions of events at the Adult Video awards (which began in 1982 coincident with the rise of VCRs.) The exhibits at their convention got even my normally unflappable nature perturbed. The idea that an exhibitor would have a starlet squatting on his table masturbating with a riding crop was a bit much. The judges for the awards have to sit through the equivalent of 1.4 years of sexual coupling and after their eyes glazed over I suspect their “members” (to quote Fanny Hill) probably locked into a permanently flaccid state much like workers in chocolate factories who are permitted to eat all the chocolate they want, soon develop a positive distaste for the stuff.
All of this leads me to an observation. Many of the essays reveal a deep concern on the part of Wallace for wanting to examine all the moral ramifications of his subject. I'm beginning to understand why he committed suicide. He must have deeply disturbed by what he discovered.
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especially liked the way he handled the issue of pain in the lobster: unhysterical, rational, and detailed with correct information. He asks if gastronomes, i.e. those who delight in the preparation and presentation of food, think much about “the moral status and probable suffering of the animals involved, and, if so, what ethical system have they “worked out to enjoy gastronomic culture. Is it the product of actual thought? Or do you just not want to think about it?” Will the Maine Lobster festival be seen decades from now much as we view the Roman games?This is not the kind of book you want to listen to in the car with your kids or grand-kids. In the third essay, his descriptions of events at the Adult Video awards (which began in 1982 coincident with the rise of VCRs.) The exhibits at their convention got even my normally unflappable nature perturbed. The idea that an exhibitor would have a starlet squatting on his table masturbating with a riding crop was a bit much. The judges for the awards have to sit through the equivalent of 1.4 years of sexual coupling and after their eyes glazed over I suspect their “members” (to quote Fanny Hill) probably locked into a permanently flaccid state much like workers in chocolate factories who are permitted to eat all the chocolate they want, soon develop a positive distaste for the stuff.
All of this leads me to an observation. Many of the essays reveal a deep concern on the part of Wallace for wanting to examine all the moral ramifications of his subject. I'm beginning to understand why he committed suicide. He must have deeply disturbed by what he discovered.
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LibraryThing member stillatim
Oddly, the best essay here is about dictionaries. The title essay makes you feel bad for eating animals without any of the blood-and-guts visceral stuff you get from such essays in general. The porn essay makes you feel bad for having sex without any of the quasi-religious guilt you usually get in
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such essays. The essay about 9/11 makes you feel bad for hating on the moral majority. They're all okay essays. The dictionary essay, combined with the essay on Joseph Franks' work on Dostoevsky, are the real low-key manifesto pieces here, designed to make you feel bad for not caring about anything at all. This isn't, *pace* the Cleveland Plain Dealer, "brilliantly entertaining." The best essays here actually force you to consider your own life. Imagine that. That said, there's plenty of padding, and nobody needs to read the piece on Kafka, the review of Updike (who is justifiably skewered, but still), or even the piece about a tennis autobiography. Even the McCain essay is a little dull post-Obama, although it's interesting to find out that Obama essentially out McCained McCain to win the election.
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LibraryThing member thatotter
Some of these essays were both informative and entertaining. I enjoyed the inside look granted by "Up, Simba" and "Host." But the heavily-footnoted writing style got old for me: DFW's continued reliance on it makes me feel like he's unable to organize his writing in a logical way without this
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crutch. Show Less
LibraryThing member soylentgreen23
I don't often use the word 'scintillating', mostly because I fear I'll misspell it. But this book is the very definition, even though it is little more than a collection of journalistic essays written by the late, great, DFW.
There's a sense of finality about each of the articles that makes them
There's a sense of finality about each of the articles that makes them
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seem so much more than they are. Take the last one as an example, about a talk radio host; DFW invests his story with such pathos and spirit, not to mention deep-lying context, that I can't very well imagine a better one ever getting written. Show Less
LibraryThing member jnwelch
Consider the Lobster and Other Essays was an up and down experience for me. This was my first David Foster Wallace book, and it is undeniable that the guy was brilliant. I now know much better what a huge loss his death was. But some of these essays were much more my cuppa than others, and his love
The first essay is his exhausting examination of the Adult Video Awards show, and I couldn't wait for it to end. A tip of the hat for his taking on a subject not often intelligently examined, but the content for me alternated between disgusting and boring, and way too few of the multitudinous footnotes were amusing enough to justify the hard work of reading them. On the other hand, the next essay, ripping an Updike book titled Toward the End of Time, was concise, on target, insightful, and hilarious. For example, after "guessing" that for many oldsters "Updike's evection of the libidinous self appeared refreshing and even heroic", he explains that "today's sub-forties" in age:
"many of whom are, of course, the children of all the impassioned infidelities and divorces Updike wrote about so beautifully, and who got to watch all this brave new individualism and sexual freedom deteriorate into the joyless and anomic self-indulgence of the Me Generation . . . have very different horrors, prominent among which are anomie and solipsism, and a peculiarly American loneliness: the prospect of dying without even once having loved something more than oneself."
As you can see, he wasn't shy about making bold pronouncements, and they certainly are thought-provoking.
He got me again with his Kafka essay: "For me, a signal frustration in trying to read Kafka with college students is it is next to impossible to get them to see that Kafka is funny." Yes! Kafka is funny; you need to appreciate the absurdity of what you're reading, even when the content is pitch dark. And Wallace's insights into trying to teach Standard Written English to college students, described in an ostensible review of A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, are similarly both entertaining and convincing as to their accuracy. Another highlight for me was the title essay, which has him as Gourmet magazine's on-the-spot reporter for the annual Maine Lobster Festival who nonetheless is preoccupied with the question of whether it is "all right to boil a sentient creature alive just for our gustatory pleasure."
On the 2000 presidential campaign trail in another essay, he becomes a fan of John McCain as a person while denouncing his "scary" right wing policies. He brings us vividly into McCain's four year's of POW camp suffering, including McCain's refusal, despite his torment, to be preferentially released before other POWs because of family connections: "Think about how diametrically opposed to your own self interest getting knifed in the nuts and having fractures set without a general {anaesthetic} would be, and then about getting thrown in a cell to just lie there and hurt, which is what happened. He was mostly delirious with pain for weeks, and his weight dropped to 100 pounds, and the other POWs were sure he would die . . ." His experience gave McCain a "moral authority"other candidates lacked. McCain was admired by journalists, and many voters, not only for his frankness and honesty, but for being, unlike the other candidates, able to behave "somewhat in the ballpark of a real human being". In the end his extreme views and Bush's successful negative ad campaign likely doomed his political chances.
Bibiophiles will enjoy the essay on Dostoevsky, and Wallace's strongly stated belief that "many of the novelists of our own place and time look so thematically shallow and lightweight, so morally impoverished, in comparison to Gogol or Dostoyevsky." There's a lot to like in his essay on right wing radio host John Ziegler, too, although I was horrified to see the dreaded footnotes climb up into the text, with boxes and arrows. No!!
I was glad I read this for the ups, and for the appreciation I gained of how brilliant this guy was. That brilliance means I'll read more of his work. I can recommend this book strongly, with the caveat that, if you're like me, there are parts you're going to have to tolerate rather than appreciate.
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of footnotes baffles me.The first essay is his exhausting examination of the Adult Video Awards show, and I couldn't wait for it to end. A tip of the hat for his taking on a subject not often intelligently examined, but the content for me alternated between disgusting and boring, and way too few of the multitudinous footnotes were amusing enough to justify the hard work of reading them. On the other hand, the next essay, ripping an Updike book titled Toward the End of Time, was concise, on target, insightful, and hilarious. For example, after "guessing" that for many oldsters "Updike's evection of the libidinous self appeared refreshing and even heroic", he explains that "today's sub-forties" in age:
"many of whom are, of course, the children of all the impassioned infidelities and divorces Updike wrote about so beautifully, and who got to watch all this brave new individualism and sexual freedom deteriorate into the joyless and anomic self-indulgence of the Me Generation . . . have very different horrors, prominent among which are anomie and solipsism, and a peculiarly American loneliness: the prospect of dying without even once having loved something more than oneself."
As you can see, he wasn't shy about making bold pronouncements, and they certainly are thought-provoking.
He got me again with his Kafka essay: "For me, a signal frustration in trying to read Kafka with college students is it is next to impossible to get them to see that Kafka is funny." Yes! Kafka is funny; you need to appreciate the absurdity of what you're reading, even when the content is pitch dark. And Wallace's insights into trying to teach Standard Written English to college students, described in an ostensible review of A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, are similarly both entertaining and convincing as to their accuracy. Another highlight for me was the title essay, which has him as Gourmet magazine's on-the-spot reporter for the annual Maine Lobster Festival who nonetheless is preoccupied with the question of whether it is "all right to boil a sentient creature alive just for our gustatory pleasure."
On the 2000 presidential campaign trail in another essay, he becomes a fan of John McCain as a person while denouncing his "scary" right wing policies. He brings us vividly into McCain's four year's of POW camp suffering, including McCain's refusal, despite his torment, to be preferentially released before other POWs because of family connections: "Think about how diametrically opposed to your own self interest getting knifed in the nuts and having fractures set without a general {anaesthetic} would be, and then about getting thrown in a cell to just lie there and hurt, which is what happened. He was mostly delirious with pain for weeks, and his weight dropped to 100 pounds, and the other POWs were sure he would die . . ." His experience gave McCain a "moral authority"other candidates lacked. McCain was admired by journalists, and many voters, not only for his frankness and honesty, but for being, unlike the other candidates, able to behave "somewhat in the ballpark of a real human being". In the end his extreme views and Bush's successful negative ad campaign likely doomed his political chances.
Bibiophiles will enjoy the essay on Dostoevsky, and Wallace's strongly stated belief that "many of the novelists of our own place and time look so thematically shallow and lightweight, so morally impoverished, in comparison to Gogol or Dostoyevsky." There's a lot to like in his essay on right wing radio host John Ziegler, too, although I was horrified to see the dreaded footnotes climb up into the text, with boxes and arrows. No!!
I was glad I read this for the ups, and for the appreciation I gained of how brilliant this guy was. That brilliance means I'll read more of his work. I can recommend this book strongly, with the caveat that, if you're like me, there are parts you're going to have to tolerate rather than appreciate.
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LibraryThing member loafhunter13
Long renowned as one of the smartest writers on the loose, David Foster Wallace reveals himself in Consider the Lobster to be also one of the funniest. In these pages he ranges far and farther in his search for the original, the curious, or the merely mystifying. His quest takes him into the
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three-ring circus of a presidential race to ask, among other urgent questions, why it is that the circles journalists walk in while whispering into their cell phones are always counterclockwise. He discovers the World's Largest Lobster Cooker at the Maine Lobster Festival and confronts the inevitable question just beyond the butter-or-cocktail-sauce quandary. He plunges into the wars among dictionary writers, deconstructing once and for all the battles between descriptivists and prescriptivists. And he talks his way into an LA radio studio, bearing buckets of fried chicken, to get an uncensored view of a conservative talk show and its alarmingly attired host." Intelligent, witty and almost always frustratingly right, Wallace is a wonderful essayist. Having not read his fiction I do not know how it would translate into that genre. His vocabulary is worth the price of admission and outwitted several dictionaries. The essays vary in length but are enjoyable no matter that or the theme, which range widely. While his knowledge of his own intellect and cleverness can be grating it is never enough to put me off the book. Enjoyable throughout. Show Less
LibraryThing member Mitchell_Bergeson_Jr
I absolutely loved David Foster Wallace's collection of essays in Consider The Lobster. 5 stars.
I found that all of the essays were amazingly well written and thoughtful. This is top shelf reading period. I wish other nonfiction authors could write with 1/2 the skill that is on display throughout
The topics touched on in this volume ranges from the perverse underbelly of the pornography industry to the ethics of boiling a lobster alive to conservative talk radio. My personal favorites were: "Big Red Son", "Authority and American Usage", "Up, Simba" and "Host". "Authority and American Usage" and "Up, Simba" are worth the price of admission by themselves, and the collection contains 10 essays in all.
I often found myself immersed in the narratives, and it didn't matter if I was particularly fond of the subject - this speaks volumes to the power, depth and thoughtfulness of the writing. I will be definitely reading more of Mr. Wallace in the future.
Note: The author's use of copious footnotes take a bit to get use to if one is not familiar, but after a few essays the style blends well with the narrative and adds immensely to the overall presentation.
Do yourself a favor and read these essays. Some of the content is a bit dated, but it's still vastly superior than most contemporary expositions.
Recommended
I found that all of the essays were amazingly well written and thoughtful. This is top shelf reading period. I wish other nonfiction authors could write with 1/2 the skill that is on display throughout
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these essays.The topics touched on in this volume ranges from the perverse underbelly of the pornography industry to the ethics of boiling a lobster alive to conservative talk radio. My personal favorites were: "Big Red Son", "Authority and American Usage", "Up, Simba" and "Host". "Authority and American Usage" and "Up, Simba" are worth the price of admission by themselves, and the collection contains 10 essays in all.
I often found myself immersed in the narratives, and it didn't matter if I was particularly fond of the subject - this speaks volumes to the power, depth and thoughtfulness of the writing. I will be definitely reading more of Mr. Wallace in the future.
Note: The author's use of copious footnotes take a bit to get use to if one is not familiar, but after a few essays the style blends well with the narrative and adds immensely to the overall presentation.
Do yourself a favor and read these essays. Some of the content is a bit dated, but it's still vastly superior than most contemporary expositions.
Recommended
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Awards
The New York Times Notable Books of the Year (Nonfiction — 2006)
Pages
343
ISBN
0316013323 / 9780316013321