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3.93 AVERAGE
3.93 AVERAGE
I really don't know how to rate this book, since it, by no means, is close to a finished piece of work. Wallace's notes, which are included as an appendix, show that he hadn't even started working on the major narrative of the story. What you have, instead, is a series of fragments; it's impossible to know which ones would have remained, and which would have been edited out. And how are you supposed to rate fragments? Parts of it are four or five stars, but those parts never will amount to anything. It's quite the conundrum.
DFW was a hell of a writer. I've never ventured into The Infinite Jest, but this makes me think that maybe I should. The story--insomuch as there is a story--revolves around a bunch of IRS agents at a specific IRS branch. All of them have quirks, of some sort--like the guy who is given to sweat "attacks," during which he so thoroughly drenches himself that he makes all of his clothes damp--and some of them even have powers, like Shane Drinion, who levitates when he is lost in concentration. We're introduced to most characters through vignettes of varying length, and it is these vignettes which really shine in the novel. It's actually when the novel sustains a narrative for an extended period of time that it slows to a grinding halt, and becomes a real chore to sit through.
Wallace had a gift for language. Here's an example from chapter 35, where the narrator describes his Audit Gruop's Group Manager's child:
"The infant's face, as I experienced it, was mostly eyes and lower lip, its nose a mere pinch, its forehead milky and domed, its whorl of red hair wispy, no eyebrows or lashes or even eyelids that I could see. I never once saw it blink. Its features seemed suggestions only. It had roughly as much face as a whale does. I did not like it at all."
And yet, we'll never return again to this child; he, like all the other brilliant characters in the book, appears all-too-briefly, never to be seen again.
DFW was a hell of a writer. I've never ventured into The Infinite Jest, but this makes me think that maybe I should. The story--insomuch as there is a story--revolves around a bunch of IRS agents at a specific IRS branch. All of them have quirks, of some sort--like the guy who is given to sweat "attacks," during which he so thoroughly drenches himself that he makes all of his clothes damp--and some of them even have powers, like Shane Drinion, who levitates when he is lost in concentration. We're introduced to most characters through vignettes of varying length, and it is these vignettes which really shine in the novel. It's actually when the novel sustains a narrative for an extended period of time that it slows to a grinding halt, and becomes a real chore to sit through.
Wallace had a gift for language. Here's an example from chapter 35, where the narrator describes his Audit Gruop's Group Manager's child:
"The infant's face, as I experienced it, was mostly eyes and lower lip, its nose a mere pinch, its forehead milky and domed, its whorl of red hair wispy, no eyebrows or lashes or even eyelids that I could see. I never once saw it blink. Its features seemed suggestions only. It had roughly as much face as a whale does. I did not like it at all."
And yet, we'll never return again to this child; he, like all the other brilliant characters in the book, appears all-too-briefly, never to be seen again.
A book that takes a close look at bureaucratic boredom is, unsurprisingly, boring. I know people LOVE this book, almost to the point of salivation, and I get that people adore DFW's turn of phrase, but the fact that this book was unfinished and (largely) unedited probably made it a really bad first DFW book for me to read. I read half of it and really struggled to find something to hold on to. There is very little by way of a plot. It was more like reading someone's notebook. I couldn't pick up the thread, but gave it what I thought was a fair shake. Had to put it down.
so fun. form and content complement each other perfectly. a whacky cast of characters in both silly and incredibly mundane (if not outright boring) situations (as per usual with DFW). no major narrative ever really coalesces, and it’s unclear whether it’s intentional or just unfinished. it could go either way with DFW. i do wish he was able to finish the book, but it was a great read nonetheless.
I anticipated this book for literally years after DFW's heartbreaking suicide, and wasn't disappointed.
I don't recommend this as a first DFW book, because it's long, and tedious -- on purpose. The book chronicles the histories and current lives of a group of IRS agents. It spends a lot of time discussing boredom and going in-depth into the bureaucratic ins and outs and laws of taxes. The point of this, from what I understand, is not to harm or confuse the reader, but to bring the reader in so they can experience the tedium the characters suffer firsthand. Which sounds like it sucks, but there are trademark DFW chapters, most notably the back-stories and portions that entirely unattributed conversations, that are laugh-out loud brilliant. Nerdy, and immersive, and a wonderful conclusion to DFW's work.
I don't recommend this as a first DFW book, because it's long, and tedious -- on purpose. The book chronicles the histories and current lives of a group of IRS agents. It spends a lot of time discussing boredom and going in-depth into the bureaucratic ins and outs and laws of taxes. The point of this, from what I understand, is not to harm or confuse the reader, but to bring the reader in so they can experience the tedium the characters suffer firsthand. Which sounds like it sucks, but there are trademark DFW chapters, most notably the back-stories and portions that entirely unattributed conversations, that are laugh-out loud brilliant. Nerdy, and immersive, and a wonderful conclusion to DFW's work.
In-progress is sometimes o.k. The dialogue is wonderful. The cheeriest DFW I've read. Just FUN to read and see a mind at work like this.
I just can't separate the qualities of this book from the deep sadness that...this is it. Some really hokey and overwritten parts balanced by some of DFW's best writing. Boredom as heroism. I'm with ya, Dave.
David Motherfoster Wallace came in. Have to put everything else on hold until further notice.
The Pale King is a wonderful book about what people can and choose to pay attention to, boredom and enlightenment through boredom, and the IRS and bureaucracy and the nation's effectiveness in achieving the greater good through taxation. Plus DFW's seriously damaged characters and humor. I loved it. Although this book was a work in progress when DFW died, it feels as complete as any of his works. More accessible than Infinite Jest (shorter footnotes) but just as rewarding. Don't fret about which character is speaking...just go along for the ride.
I have put off reading DFW for a lot of my life, mainly because he has been recommended to me by a lot of men using that Specific tone which I have learnt means, “Don’t listen to a single thing I say.”
Oh boy was I wrong! David, I did not recognise your game (despite the fact that literally every respectable literary publication does. Spite is winged Cupid painted blind or whatever.), you are so babygirl.
I appreciate my opinion of Pale King will only change once I read Infinite Jest (soon), but my current interpretation is as follows:
We, ie: corporate America, are a godfearing people living in a godless land. So we have replaced god with something else: capitalism. From Mary to Mammon, so to speak. This idea isn’t new. But what DFW does is to reinvent christianity, call it accountancy, and highlights the ridiculous Popery and ritual and calling that is religion.
In Stecyk we have our modern Christ: would Jesus be adored universally at his young age, with his wonders performed, or would he be bullied mercilessly? (He even does Woodworking, I mean come on!) We have the apparitions and phantasms, we have holy visions, we have the rites and rituals of accountancy. Gentlemen, you are called to account, is cried like the sermon on the mount. The Christian girl serving as the looming narrative foil. We have the glorious chapter 25, reeking of begat-begat-begat. The boredom of a sermon. The sudden aching electricity of his turns of phrase. We have the impenetrable language of those of the profession — translated in footnote by our benevolent priest, David Wallace (author).
How do people find meaning? How do they give their lives meaning when there may be none? Where do we find what calls us, where do we find belief, what happens to us that we turn to faith/The Service? This is the corporation. This is my body.
It's hard to 'rate' an unfinished novel, never mind one by a brilliant writer whom you adore who died far too soon. So I'll say four stars, because it's damn good, but of course far from perfect.
When I first heard this book was being published, I was very wary and unsure if I could bring myself to read it. Would DFW have wanted it to be made public? What would be done to it between his manuscript pages and the published book? Could it even be called his? Now I can say I'm very glad to have read it, and I think the editor - who obviously has a deep love and admiration for DFW - did an admirable job pulling these pages together into a book without trying to make it something it wasn't: leaving the threads poking out at the seams, as it were.
As I read DFW's notes at the end - directions he was contemplating for the book, the narrative, the characters; plot threads and background he never had a chance to work in - I began to feel incredibly sad that he ended his life before he could bring this book to full fruition. Reading his notes, it's easy to see that this book could have been every bit as great and sprawling and important as Infinite Jest. As it is, it's a wonderful collection of writing by one of our finest writers.
When I first heard this book was being published, I was very wary and unsure if I could bring myself to read it. Would DFW have wanted it to be made public? What would be done to it between his manuscript pages and the published book? Could it even be called his? Now I can say I'm very glad to have read it, and I think the editor - who obviously has a deep love and admiration for DFW - did an admirable job pulling these pages together into a book without trying to make it something it wasn't: leaving the threads poking out at the seams, as it were.
As I read DFW's notes at the end - directions he was contemplating for the book, the narrative, the characters; plot threads and background he never had a chance to work in - I began to feel incredibly sad that he ended his life before he could bring this book to full fruition. Reading his notes, it's easy to see that this book could have been every bit as great and sprawling and important as Infinite Jest. As it is, it's a wonderful collection of writing by one of our finest writers.