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notwaldorf's review
4.0
You can’t really go wrong with any DFW, if you like DFW (which i absolutely do) but I found this book had a couple essays I wasn’t all that interested in, like reviews of books I hadn’t (and wouldn’t) read.
pharmdad2007's review against another edition
5.0
This is what I love the most about David Foster Wallace: you can meticulously study every word, dissect each sentence, and endlessly analyze every paragraph, or you can simply sit back, relax, and let the text wash over you. And both are equally sublime experiences.
thearbiter89's review
3.0
Not for first-timers.
Both Flesh and Not is a collection of essays by David Foster Wallace, an American writer and essayist of uncommon lingual prowess and checkered reputation. Wallace wrote about pretty much anything that caught his fancy and did so in a way that was as incisive as it was meandering - a kind of stream of discourse that wended its way like a one-sided conversation, dotted here and there at the banks nuggets of insight that were sometimes liable to be lost in the onslaught of obscure, precisely-used words, complex, multi-clausal sentences, and footnotes that took up half the page.
DFW's essays were therefore not what you'd call easy reading. Free from strictures of structure and bursting with erudition and, at times, a sort of classist self-entitlement to verbiage, trusting in the ability of the reader to keep up, DFW wrote as he thought educated people should like to be written to - and his definitions for what constituted one were strict. But his essays could be surprisingly forgiving.
To continue the above metaphor, to truly grok one of his essays is to engage in a sort of mental whitewater rafting, mastering every treacherous turn of phrase while resisting the allure of breaking your flow by glancing at one of the infamous footnotes. But stray from the path of DFW's frothy, exhilarating prose and come back and more likely than not you'll just continue on for the ride - reading about whatever it is DFW has set his sights on. DFW's essays were more often than not exercises in modular logical flows rather than discursive monads.
That said, however, this freewheeling style lends itself better to topics of general interest. DFW's other collection of essays, Consider the Lobster, was an eclectic collection on the most variegated of topics - 911, culinary ethics, conservative radio talk show hosts, pornography, McCain's campaign - as I recall, a breathtaking journey over the skein of the American lived experience. DFW, writing for a more general audience, was DFW as his best - able to extract filaments of deep insight from places intimately part of some shared cultural fabric.
By contrast, Both Flesh and Not is a more targeted affair. More than Lobster, it is a compilation of essays, many of which first found themselves in literary journals, where DFW writes for a more well defined audience. In that context, DFW goes the opposite direction, wending down into narrow corridors of interest, indulging in his own, specific geekdoms that coincide with the geekdoms of the readers - Wittgensteinian philosophy, number theory - in ways that could alienate a more general audience interested in more of the same from Lobster. The longest pieces are the most symptomatic of these, while the shorter, more general ones are oftentimes too short to count.
There is a literary bent to these - many are book reviews of esoterica long neglected, some meta-pieces about the art and experience of writing, and, most interestingly, quirky and highly instructive usage notes for 24 common and uncommon words (of which I dearly wish there had been more).
The hit rate of these essays for the generalist is iffier than one would expect, and many would not probably put DFW in good stead in the first impressions of the newbie reader. DFW's review of the philosophical book Wittgenstein's Mistress, for example, is so suffused with obscure references to philosophy and literature as to muddle the discourse - and over a book which calls itself "experimental" (read: few would have read it).
There is some interest in the collection itself in the sense that its essays are arranged chronologically - one would expect to be taken on a bit of a tour of 1980s America through 2007. In many ways it is an interesting journey - from DFW's slightly stiff, clearly developing voice in his early works to his oddly moving ode to Federer as a young man, to his concerns over trading security for liberty in late 2007 - but the evolutionary flow is curtailed by the many atemporal pieces, written in the timeless ivory tower of the literati-philosopher complex, that avail themselves of little contemporary or historical interest to the reader.
The upshot is, DFW's greatest virtues are less on display in this collection than one would hope. For a much better showcase of his essaying talents, consider Consider the Lobster as your starting point. Both Flesh and Not seems an exercise for DFW's more devoted readership.
I give this 3.5 out of 5 hot dogs
Both Flesh and Not is a collection of essays by David Foster Wallace, an American writer and essayist of uncommon lingual prowess and checkered reputation. Wallace wrote about pretty much anything that caught his fancy and did so in a way that was as incisive as it was meandering - a kind of stream of discourse that wended its way like a one-sided conversation, dotted here and there at the banks nuggets of insight that were sometimes liable to be lost in the onslaught of obscure, precisely-used words, complex, multi-clausal sentences, and footnotes that took up half the page.
DFW's essays were therefore not what you'd call easy reading. Free from strictures of structure and bursting with erudition and, at times, a sort of classist self-entitlement to verbiage, trusting in the ability of the reader to keep up, DFW wrote as he thought educated people should like to be written to - and his definitions for what constituted one were strict. But his essays could be surprisingly forgiving.
To continue the above metaphor, to truly grok one of his essays is to engage in a sort of mental whitewater rafting, mastering every treacherous turn of phrase while resisting the allure of breaking your flow by glancing at one of the infamous footnotes. But stray from the path of DFW's frothy, exhilarating prose and come back and more likely than not you'll just continue on for the ride - reading about whatever it is DFW has set his sights on. DFW's essays were more often than not exercises in modular logical flows rather than discursive monads.
That said, however, this freewheeling style lends itself better to topics of general interest. DFW's other collection of essays, Consider the Lobster, was an eclectic collection on the most variegated of topics - 911, culinary ethics, conservative radio talk show hosts, pornography, McCain's campaign - as I recall, a breathtaking journey over the skein of the American lived experience. DFW, writing for a more general audience, was DFW as his best - able to extract filaments of deep insight from places intimately part of some shared cultural fabric.
By contrast, Both Flesh and Not is a more targeted affair. More than Lobster, it is a compilation of essays, many of which first found themselves in literary journals, where DFW writes for a more well defined audience. In that context, DFW goes the opposite direction, wending down into narrow corridors of interest, indulging in his own, specific geekdoms that coincide with the geekdoms of the readers - Wittgensteinian philosophy, number theory - in ways that could alienate a more general audience interested in more of the same from Lobster. The longest pieces are the most symptomatic of these, while the shorter, more general ones are oftentimes too short to count.
There is a literary bent to these - many are book reviews of esoterica long neglected, some meta-pieces about the art and experience of writing, and, most interestingly, quirky and highly instructive usage notes for 24 common and uncommon words (of which I dearly wish there had been more).
The hit rate of these essays for the generalist is iffier than one would expect, and many would not probably put DFW in good stead in the first impressions of the newbie reader. DFW's review of the philosophical book Wittgenstein's Mistress, for example, is so suffused with obscure references to philosophy and literature as to muddle the discourse - and over a book which calls itself "experimental" (read: few would have read it).
There is some interest in the collection itself in the sense that its essays are arranged chronologically - one would expect to be taken on a bit of a tour of 1980s America through 2007. In many ways it is an interesting journey - from DFW's slightly stiff, clearly developing voice in his early works to his oddly moving ode to Federer as a young man, to his concerns over trading security for liberty in late 2007 - but the evolutionary flow is curtailed by the many atemporal pieces, written in the timeless ivory tower of the literati-philosopher complex, that avail themselves of little contemporary or historical interest to the reader.
The upshot is, DFW's greatest virtues are less on display in this collection than one would hope. For a much better showcase of his essaying talents, consider Consider the Lobster as your starting point. Both Flesh and Not seems an exercise for DFW's more devoted readership.
I give this 3.5 out of 5 hot dogs
gvenezia's review against another edition
4.0
This work should be the last read by anyone interested in David Foster Wallace (DFW) because: (1) DFW wasn’t a part of the editing process, (2) many of the essays have equivalents in DFW’s earlier published work, and (3) it contains what I contend is DFW’s worst published piece. (NB: In the last paragraph, I do discuss the collection's virtues.)
The first point about editing is straightforward. Besides the unavoidable restrictions of publishers and copyright law, there’s a reason why authors include/exclude certain stories in collections. They know their work best. Thus, it's significant that none of these essays were included in earlier collections that DFW helped assemble.
On the second point, there are two marvelous essays on tennis in this collection, but his writing on tennis in Infinite Jest, “The String Theory," and "Derivative Sport in Tornado Alley" serves just as well. "Fictional Futures and the Conspicuously Young" (1988) is an incisive piece on the future of literary fiction written at the beginning of DFW’s career, but "E Unibus Pluram” (1990) in A Supposedly Fun Thing... also contains these arguments in refined and slightly altered form. Finally, the collection is dominated by characteristically good book reviews, but one can grasp the tenor of DFW’s critical voice in earlier collections and his reviews are not what made him a great writer (not that they aren’t worth reading; see my brief praise in the last paragraph).
Finally, there is DFW’s worst published piece. “Back in New Fire” is a short argumentative essay exploring the potential value of sex in relation to the AIDS epidemic. DFW’s tone, framing devices, and arguments are all at their worst. Many have maligned DFW as just another wealthy, straight, white male too clever for his own good; “Back in New Fire” is the exemplum of these problems of authorial standpoint.
Choice of Subject
The first problem appears in DFW’s implicit choice to focus only on the impact of AIDs for heterosexuals. The lack of justification for this framing is a shame because it could’ve revealed thoughtful consideration of differences between queer and straight culture, acknowledged the disproportionate harm AIDS has had on the black, Latinx, and gay communities, and touched on how political decisions exacerbated the AIDs epidemic (See Randy Shilts' And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS epidemic). Unfortunately, DFW has few relevant comments on these issues elsewhere, so even the close, sympathetic reader might have trouble adopting DFW’s perspective (as I did). At the very least, clarifying the intended audience might have headed off some objections and made it easier to follow some of the framing decisions and argumentative moves discussed below.
A Formal Fallacy
DFW sets up his argument for the value of sex with the Romantic, outdated, male-centric metaphor of the knight in shining armor saving the fair maiden from the dragon. The idea is that the knight’s struggle against the dragon heightens the value and meaning of the sex with the maiden. He contrasts classic chivalry with the practice of casual sex in the US: men metaphorically walk straight into the castle and immediately have meaningless sex with the maiden. Here’s the logical form of the argument:
(1) If there’s an impediment to sex, then sex can be meaningful (if I, then M).
(2) Casual sex has no impediment to sex (not I).
Therefore, (3) Casual sex can not be meaningful (not M).
This argument denies the antecedent which is a formal fallacy. The use of a fallacy doesn’t provide a foundation for an argument, but it is not necessarily damning to the whole essay. Metaphors are often used figuratively as motivators for arguments rather than conclusive proofs—much like anecdotes or parables. So for a moment, let’s set aside considerations of formal logic and focus on how this metaphor might appeal to readers.
Consider the Metaphor
There's no doubt this metaphor will appeal to some—especially social conservatives and the reactionary right, both of whom often use chivalric language and metaphors. However, I doubt more socially liberal audiences will buy into DFW’s framing. The trouble with the metaphor is that DFW has no real consideration for the woman’s agency in the metaphor or in contemporary society. At one point, it seems that DFW is about to shift gears and address the female perspective in the metaphor: he notes that that 'fair maiden' means good-looking virgin and even implores, “let’s not be naive about what the knight is really fighting for…[He’s not fighting to] rescue the good-looking virgin, but to win her.” But DFW only acknowledges a surface-level relationship dynamic, he doesn’t explore what it might feel like to be the woman in this metaphor. Simply considering how the woman doesn’t have much, if any, control over who wins her and her affections will likely give most readers pause.
Furthermore, the metaphor is also historically unrealistic. At the time of actual knights, so few had the economic or political means to find romantic intimacy (let alone sexual intimacy) that it hardly could serve as a practical metaphor. Even up to the time of the sexual revolution, one would be hard pressed to find practical dragons worthy of making sex and intimacy more meaningful for both man and woman from our current perspective. In other words, who would choose to live before the sexual given the probable outcomes? The practical “dragons” have been strict religious, political, and economic restrictions on marriage and extra-marital relationships. It’s not even clear to me that we’re free and clear of these dragons. Although we experience unprecedented economic and political agency, economic and political considerations are very real for most people looking for sex and love (See Stephanie Coontz’s excellent work, Marriage, a History). Gender and sexuality also change in response to new socioeconomic conditions. Perhaps we sleep around more now before settling down, but some part of this process seems beneficial for learning what kind of romantic and sexual partners we are compatible with (an important element of the long-term intimacy that DFW is vouching for). Imagine defeating the dragon and finding someone who either doesn’t share your values and rules in the bedroom. Or perhaps worse, feeling that you somehow owe your savior, despite quickly waning attraction.
To push on the metaphor further let’s explore other possible dragons that contemporary society struggle with. It’s not clear why the sexual revolution would be the final struggle to define a value system for sex. Culture goes through cycles of rebellion against norms and construction of better suited norms. Indeed, much of feminist scholarship has taken the sexual revolution as a starting point for defining new boundaries of ethical sex and intimacy. Maybe the new dragon could be honesty and proactivity surrounding sexual health and knowledge? Presumably part of the reason that sexual disease persists is because of the lack of knowledge on a societal and interpersonal level due to taboos. These challenges seem sufficiently difficult, which could lend new meaning and value to the honest sexual relationship (whether marital or simply fucking around). DFW does actually acknowledge these taboos and the need for honesty, but doesn’t explain why these challenging, virtuous tasks can’t exist alongside casual sex. In my mind, casual sex makes virtues such as honesty more necessary because of the variety of sexual preferences and experiences one would encounter.
Figuratively Moving on from the Metaphor
So much for the knight-dragon-maiden metaphor. DFW's other figurative language doesn’t fair better. Since DFW views impediments as necessary and useful for meaning, he comes to argue that AIDs is actually a gift and blessing. Would we regard similar events such as cancer, death of a spouse, or nuclear war as blessings? They impose significant impediments that I doubt could be justified with sexual intimacy. Perhaps instead of focusing on these events as blessings, it would be better to focus on perseverance or recovery, to focus on the human responses rather than the human tragedies. Oddly enough, a few sentences later, DFW contradicts himself by taking a similar tack:
"I mean no offense, nobody claimed that a lethal epidemic is a good thing. Nothing from nature is good or bad. Natural things just are. The only good and bad things are people’s various choices in the face of what is.”
DFW says the lethal epidemic of AIDs is a gift and blessing, and then in the next breath, says AIDs cannot have these normative properties because it is a part of nature (Sidenote: Here's where DFW's focus on heterosexuals haunts him. If he had considered non-heterosexual sex or the political history of AIDs, he (hopefully) would've seen how absurd it is to say that the AIDs epidemic is merely natural). DFW also asserts an ethics of human choice—quickly undercut by a cursory review of Western philosophy's ethical frameworks, some of which, e.g. consequentialism and nihilism, don’t take people’s choices as the fundamental locus of value. Or one can likely recall instances of friends or family saying something is “unnatural” and therefore bad. Whether meant to be descriptive of a considered, ideal ethics or what lay people actually believe, DFW’s ethical appeal won’t strengthen his argument for most. DFW’s assertions about ethics does suggest DFW is doing more just sharing his perspective, though.
A Ill-Considered Appeal to Truth
Despite the reliance on metaphor and figurative language, DFW is trying to say something true about what sex is:
“There is nothing casual about sex at all.”
“…our sexual recognition of what is”
“Deep down, we all know...”
"Real sexuality is about our struggles to connect with one another.”
“Fire is lethal, but we need it” (fire being a metaphor for AIDs)
"HIV could well be the salvation of sexuality in the 1990’s.”
“[Proponents of casual sex] misread the eternal story of what erotic passion is all about.”
These claims to objectivity turn middling personal perspective into uninspired tract of so many reactionaries. The argument will still be impactful for some—especially those who have fully endorsed the value of free sex but later feel that they are missing something important like intimacy, dedication, or romance. At best, though, this essay would be mildly interesting in a conservative magazine, in which the value assumptions would closely match the audience’s values. In fact, it was published in Might, a small, experimental San Francisco-based magazine from the mid 1990’s. One might expect this type of publication to lean left and be more aware of gay issues given San Francisco’s history of gay advocacy and representation, e.g. the Castro neighborhood and one of the first pride parades. Or one might object to this estimation by highlighting the fact that Might billed itself as an irreverent, smirky, alternative voice—qualities DFW seemed drawn to—and that one of DFW's perennial interests was in writing more simply and to the point (See "This is Water”). So perhaps DFW was experimenting more than he typically would for a larger audience. Regardless of which is true, I personally think the contention and odd conditi build a case for why this essay shouldn't have been included in the collection. That being said, my knowledge of Might and literary culture andSF in the 90’s is tenuous at best and none of it would make DFW’s argument better, just more understandable in light of the circumstances.
Furthermore, knowing something about DFW the man as insecure seeker of sex and relationships complicates sympathetic reading between the lines. According to DT Max’s biography, in 1996 DFW was reveling in his new sex life due to IJ’s success and also relentlessly courting the married editor/writer Mary Karr). And then there is Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which shows DFW writing against ironically detached misogyny, but in such a way that suggests intimate knowledge of that sort of viewpoint.
DFW political and personal ties to conservative values weaken the essay's appeal, but to be fair, he’s not completely ignorant of leftist value systems. He has subtle, cogent arguments against left-leaning value-systems and rarely writes flat, stereotypical characters from marginalized groups (granted, these aren't his focal point either). One of these nuanced arguments can be found in his 2001 review of Bryan A. Garner's A Dictionary of Modern American Usage. DFW here argues against the cogency of purely constructivist accounts of language, the obsession with political correctness, and absolute defenses of the dialect used by marginalized groups. He represents these opposing views sympathetically, discusses their very real virtues, and then argues for the greater virtues of a more moderate, pragmatic account of language. Unfortunately, in “Back in New Fire,” DFW doesn’t consider and counter strong objections so much as ignore them. Typically a hyper-self-aware writer full of nuance and careful consideration, DFW here shows uncharacteristic negligence—“Back in New Fire” is plagued by fallacious arguments, outdated metaphor, and unsupported, contradictory assertions.
Certainly, I’ve made a mountain of a molehill and here’s why:
(1) I’m a DFW fanboy and it’s healthy to recognize the shortcomings of your would-be idols.
(2) If this essay had been one of my first DFW pieces it would’ve discouraged me from reading more.
(3) I’ve spent a lot of time studying and researching ethics, social norms, gender, and sexuality and so I’m particularly sensitive to the arguments and framings.
(4) It was fun.
The Collection's Virtues
On a positive note, this collection does offer some interest unmet by any other DFW work. Most obvious is the long, selected list of DFW's vocab words, which are reproduced between essays. Another is the variety of reviews: fiction, poems, poem collections (and a meta introduction to a collection that critiques the collection format), movies, and biographies of mathematicians and fiction writers. While there’s nothing especially innovative or distinctive about these reviews, they are all well-crafted and provide further insight into DFW’s concrete thoughts on the subtle themes and subject areas that show up throughout his work, e.g. spectacle and entertainment, the poetry and philosophical allure of formal logic, or the categorization of cultural artifacts. In sum, neither boring nor transcendent, Both Flesh and Not is a nice closing note for anyone working through DFW’s oeuvre.
The first point about editing is straightforward. Besides the unavoidable restrictions of publishers and copyright law, there’s a reason why authors include/exclude certain stories in collections. They know their work best. Thus, it's significant that none of these essays were included in earlier collections that DFW helped assemble.
On the second point, there are two marvelous essays on tennis in this collection, but his writing on tennis in Infinite Jest, “The String Theory," and "Derivative Sport in Tornado Alley" serves just as well. "Fictional Futures and the Conspicuously Young" (1988) is an incisive piece on the future of literary fiction written at the beginning of DFW’s career, but "E Unibus Pluram” (1990) in A Supposedly Fun Thing... also contains these arguments in refined and slightly altered form. Finally, the collection is dominated by characteristically good book reviews, but one can grasp the tenor of DFW’s critical voice in earlier collections and his reviews are not what made him a great writer (not that they aren’t worth reading; see my brief praise in the last paragraph).
Finally, there is DFW’s worst published piece. “Back in New Fire” is a short argumentative essay exploring the potential value of sex in relation to the AIDS epidemic. DFW’s tone, framing devices, and arguments are all at their worst. Many have maligned DFW as just another wealthy, straight, white male too clever for his own good; “Back in New Fire” is the exemplum of these problems of authorial standpoint.
Choice of Subject
The first problem appears in DFW’s implicit choice to focus only on the impact of AIDs for heterosexuals. The lack of justification for this framing is a shame because it could’ve revealed thoughtful consideration of differences between queer and straight culture, acknowledged the disproportionate harm AIDS has had on the black, Latinx, and gay communities, and touched on how political decisions exacerbated the AIDs epidemic (See Randy Shilts' And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS epidemic). Unfortunately, DFW has few relevant comments on these issues elsewhere, so even the close, sympathetic reader might have trouble adopting DFW’s perspective (as I did). At the very least, clarifying the intended audience might have headed off some objections and made it easier to follow some of the framing decisions and argumentative moves discussed below.
A Formal Fallacy
DFW sets up his argument for the value of sex with the Romantic, outdated, male-centric metaphor of the knight in shining armor saving the fair maiden from the dragon. The idea is that the knight’s struggle against the dragon heightens the value and meaning of the sex with the maiden. He contrasts classic chivalry with the practice of casual sex in the US: men metaphorically walk straight into the castle and immediately have meaningless sex with the maiden. Here’s the logical form of the argument:
(1) If there’s an impediment to sex, then sex can be meaningful (if I, then M).
(2) Casual sex has no impediment to sex (not I).
Therefore, (3) Casual sex can not be meaningful (not M).
This argument denies the antecedent which is a formal fallacy. The use of a fallacy doesn’t provide a foundation for an argument, but it is not necessarily damning to the whole essay. Metaphors are often used figuratively as motivators for arguments rather than conclusive proofs—much like anecdotes or parables. So for a moment, let’s set aside considerations of formal logic and focus on how this metaphor might appeal to readers.
Consider the Metaphor
There's no doubt this metaphor will appeal to some—especially social conservatives and the reactionary right, both of whom often use chivalric language and metaphors. However, I doubt more socially liberal audiences will buy into DFW’s framing. The trouble with the metaphor is that DFW has no real consideration for the woman’s agency in the metaphor or in contemporary society. At one point, it seems that DFW is about to shift gears and address the female perspective in the metaphor: he notes that that 'fair maiden' means good-looking virgin and even implores, “let’s not be naive about what the knight is really fighting for…[He’s not fighting to] rescue the good-looking virgin, but to win her.” But DFW only acknowledges a surface-level relationship dynamic, he doesn’t explore what it might feel like to be the woman in this metaphor. Simply considering how the woman doesn’t have much, if any, control over who wins her and her affections will likely give most readers pause.
Furthermore, the metaphor is also historically unrealistic. At the time of actual knights, so few had the economic or political means to find romantic intimacy (let alone sexual intimacy) that it hardly could serve as a practical metaphor. Even up to the time of the sexual revolution, one would be hard pressed to find practical dragons worthy of making sex and intimacy more meaningful for both man and woman from our current perspective. In other words, who would choose to live before the sexual given the probable outcomes? The practical “dragons” have been strict religious, political, and economic restrictions on marriage and extra-marital relationships. It’s not even clear to me that we’re free and clear of these dragons. Although we experience unprecedented economic and political agency, economic and political considerations are very real for most people looking for sex and love (See Stephanie Coontz’s excellent work, Marriage, a History). Gender and sexuality also change in response to new socioeconomic conditions. Perhaps we sleep around more now before settling down, but some part of this process seems beneficial for learning what kind of romantic and sexual partners we are compatible with (an important element of the long-term intimacy that DFW is vouching for). Imagine defeating the dragon and finding someone who either doesn’t share your values and rules in the bedroom. Or perhaps worse, feeling that you somehow owe your savior, despite quickly waning attraction.
To push on the metaphor further let’s explore other possible dragons that contemporary society struggle with. It’s not clear why the sexual revolution would be the final struggle to define a value system for sex. Culture goes through cycles of rebellion against norms and construction of better suited norms. Indeed, much of feminist scholarship has taken the sexual revolution as a starting point for defining new boundaries of ethical sex and intimacy. Maybe the new dragon could be honesty and proactivity surrounding sexual health and knowledge? Presumably part of the reason that sexual disease persists is because of the lack of knowledge on a societal and interpersonal level due to taboos. These challenges seem sufficiently difficult, which could lend new meaning and value to the honest sexual relationship (whether marital or simply fucking around). DFW does actually acknowledge these taboos and the need for honesty, but doesn’t explain why these challenging, virtuous tasks can’t exist alongside casual sex. In my mind, casual sex makes virtues such as honesty more necessary because of the variety of sexual preferences and experiences one would encounter.
Figuratively Moving on from the Metaphor
So much for the knight-dragon-maiden metaphor. DFW's other figurative language doesn’t fair better. Since DFW views impediments as necessary and useful for meaning, he comes to argue that AIDs is actually a gift and blessing. Would we regard similar events such as cancer, death of a spouse, or nuclear war as blessings? They impose significant impediments that I doubt could be justified with sexual intimacy. Perhaps instead of focusing on these events as blessings, it would be better to focus on perseverance or recovery, to focus on the human responses rather than the human tragedies. Oddly enough, a few sentences later, DFW contradicts himself by taking a similar tack:
"I mean no offense, nobody claimed that a lethal epidemic is a good thing. Nothing from nature is good or bad. Natural things just are. The only good and bad things are people’s various choices in the face of what is.”
DFW says the lethal epidemic of AIDs is a gift and blessing, and then in the next breath, says AIDs cannot have these normative properties because it is a part of nature (Sidenote: Here's where DFW's focus on heterosexuals haunts him. If he had considered non-heterosexual sex or the political history of AIDs, he (hopefully) would've seen how absurd it is to say that the AIDs epidemic is merely natural). DFW also asserts an ethics of human choice—quickly undercut by a cursory review of Western philosophy's ethical frameworks, some of which, e.g. consequentialism and nihilism, don’t take people’s choices as the fundamental locus of value. Or one can likely recall instances of friends or family saying something is “unnatural” and therefore bad. Whether meant to be descriptive of a considered, ideal ethics or what lay people actually believe, DFW’s ethical appeal won’t strengthen his argument for most. DFW’s assertions about ethics does suggest DFW is doing more just sharing his perspective, though.
A Ill-Considered Appeal to Truth
Despite the reliance on metaphor and figurative language, DFW is trying to say something true about what sex is:
“There is nothing casual about sex at all.”
“…our sexual recognition of what is”
“Deep down, we all know...”
"Real sexuality is about our struggles to connect with one another.”
“Fire is lethal, but we need it” (fire being a metaphor for AIDs)
"HIV could well be the salvation of sexuality in the 1990’s.”
“[Proponents of casual sex] misread the eternal story of what erotic passion is all about.”
These claims to objectivity turn middling personal perspective into uninspired tract of so many reactionaries. The argument will still be impactful for some—especially those who have fully endorsed the value of free sex but later feel that they are missing something important like intimacy, dedication, or romance. At best, though, this essay would be mildly interesting in a conservative magazine, in which the value assumptions would closely match the audience’s values. In fact, it was published in Might, a small, experimental San Francisco-based magazine from the mid 1990’s. One might expect this type of publication to lean left and be more aware of gay issues given San Francisco’s history of gay advocacy and representation, e.g. the Castro neighborhood and one of the first pride parades. Or one might object to this estimation by highlighting the fact that Might billed itself as an irreverent, smirky, alternative voice—qualities DFW seemed drawn to—and that one of DFW's perennial interests was in writing more simply and to the point (See "This is Water”). So perhaps DFW was experimenting more than he typically would for a larger audience. Regardless of which is true, I personally think the contention and odd conditi build a case for why this essay shouldn't have been included in the collection. That being said, my knowledge of Might and literary culture andSF in the 90’s is tenuous at best and none of it would make DFW’s argument better, just more understandable in light of the circumstances.
Furthermore, knowing something about DFW the man as insecure seeker of sex and relationships complicates sympathetic reading between the lines. According to DT Max’s biography, in 1996 DFW was reveling in his new sex life due to IJ’s success and also relentlessly courting the married editor/writer Mary Karr). And then there is Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which shows DFW writing against ironically detached misogyny, but in such a way that suggests intimate knowledge of that sort of viewpoint.
DFW political and personal ties to conservative values weaken the essay's appeal, but to be fair, he’s not completely ignorant of leftist value systems. He has subtle, cogent arguments against left-leaning value-systems and rarely writes flat, stereotypical characters from marginalized groups (granted, these aren't his focal point either). One of these nuanced arguments can be found in his 2001 review of Bryan A. Garner's A Dictionary of Modern American Usage. DFW here argues against the cogency of purely constructivist accounts of language, the obsession with political correctness, and absolute defenses of the dialect used by marginalized groups. He represents these opposing views sympathetically, discusses their very real virtues, and then argues for the greater virtues of a more moderate, pragmatic account of language. Unfortunately, in “Back in New Fire,” DFW doesn’t consider and counter strong objections so much as ignore them. Typically a hyper-self-aware writer full of nuance and careful consideration, DFW here shows uncharacteristic negligence—“Back in New Fire” is plagued by fallacious arguments, outdated metaphor, and unsupported, contradictory assertions.
Certainly, I’ve made a mountain of a molehill and here’s why:
(1) I’m a DFW fanboy and it’s healthy to recognize the shortcomings of your would-be idols.
(2) If this essay had been one of my first DFW pieces it would’ve discouraged me from reading more.
(3) I’ve spent a lot of time studying and researching ethics, social norms, gender, and sexuality and so I’m particularly sensitive to the arguments and framings.
(4) It was fun.
The Collection's Virtues
On a positive note, this collection does offer some interest unmet by any other DFW work. Most obvious is the long, selected list of DFW's vocab words, which are reproduced between essays. Another is the variety of reviews: fiction, poems, poem collections (and a meta introduction to a collection that critiques the collection format), movies, and biographies of mathematicians and fiction writers. While there’s nothing especially innovative or distinctive about these reviews, they are all well-crafted and provide further insight into DFW’s concrete thoughts on the subtle themes and subject areas that show up throughout his work, e.g. spectacle and entertainment, the poetry and philosophical allure of formal logic, or the categorization of cultural artifacts. In sum, neither boring nor transcendent, Both Flesh and Not is a nice closing note for anyone working through DFW’s oeuvre.
kweekwegg's review against another edition
4.0
My feelings of DFW are complex, however the one thing that has become clear is that I like the guy. Whatever that means. For some reason even when I find his essays to be a little pointless or wandering or unnecessary or too consciously postmodern, I still find myself enjoying his voice, his tone, the way that he approaches writing. I really get the feeling that he's writing earnestly; he's writing what he knows. And that's all that I can really ask for from a writer.
claundici's review against another edition
4.0
divorato; la scrittura saggistica di DFW è un mulinello.
necklace_53's review against another edition
4.0
To read my full review of this book click here: https://writersdenofwriting.wordpress.com/2020/07/31/book-review13-both-flesh-and-not-by-david-foster-wallace/