As the sentence drags on longer and longer, you feel the narrator trying to glean just a bit more of your focus and attention. Her unwillingness to end the sentence and give you a moment to retract and catch your breath shows how desperate she is for connection and makes you literally experience the same feelings of those around her.
All of the little qualifiers and clauses show how acutely self-conscious she is, always amending and curtailing her expression of herself. It also shows how self-aware of her own negativity she is. Many of the extra clauses go out of their way to show that she is aware of the positive aspects of things.
But that in turn just reinforces our perception of her as depressed because we see that while she is aware of all of these positive things—having a support system, the expertise of her therapist, etc.—we also know she is depressed and her depression must be profound to persist in spite of all those good things she laboriously lists.
Prose like this is exactly why writing in the first person can be so powerful. You get to read the story, and the way the narrator experiences the story, and the way the narrator chooses to tell you how they experienced the story, and the unintended (from the narrators' not author's perspective) things that sneak out around what the narrator is aware of choosing to say.
Indeed. And if the piece had been written in the first person I would agree with you, but it's not. It's written in the third-person.
(I'm kind of speaking in general about DFW's writing, not about this particular piece, which I am not a fan of.)
In this case, the viewpoint is an interesting omniscient third person where you kind of feel like you're in the head of the character, but not quite exactly. Are we reading a third-person narrative that is maintaining ironic distance from the character, or a first-person narrative where the character is referring to herself in the third person?
So maybe that's the angle?
This particular work seems to use complex sentence structure to embody the emotional distance the depressed person feels from others, the difficulty he raises in the first sentence of expressing one's pain to others making you more isolated.
Yes, I thought that was brilliant. His cruise ship review in Harpers was a lot of fun too (https://harpers.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/HarpersMagazi...). Maybe I'm just too aspie for his fiction.
I had to take a 3 month break in the middle of Infinite Jest (not recommended) and even then, finishing it was the most rewarding and somehow obscenely frustrating literary experiences I've ever had.
This accomplishment/frustration thing is also central to the book and is "the point" (really one of several). The fact that it still has that effect even when I know it was meant to is a testament to how well it worked.
And while you are reading you are constantly wondering if this book is better than the 10 other books you could finish in the same amount of time. At around page 200 I concluded that it was not. But I am certainly glad I read those 200 pages.
And, having said that: it's unfortunate but you probably need to get past the first third of the book to appreciate it. And that's a high-risk endeavor, because there are legit reasons why you might never appreciate it. True believers say you actually need to read the whole thing twice; I can't make myself do that.
And I imagine these kinds of references continue throughout the book. References whose significance I wouldn't have picked up on without having first read the book. But more generally, I don't think I've encountered a work before on which I've vacillated so much between considering it brilliant or insufferable. Maybe that's part of what I find intriguing about it.
When I want a book to make my head spin, I read the challenge one. When I want to end a long day of head-spinning at work, I read the easy one.
Infinite Jest is a look into the sick self-doubting mindset that has infected the US(and other parts of the world).
I read while I was severely over-weight and 'depressed' and it was extremely validating to see the mindset so accurately reflected. I've never had a book where I can't read it without stopping if desired before(unless it's purely technical).
I couldn't get through more than 50pages/sitting for Infinite Jest.
It was pretty good.
DFW is extremely "tight" in that he uses his powerful (and precocious) intellect to think about everything way, way too much. This overthinking translates into his choice of words, grammar, punctuation, what the sentence conveys, how it adds to the overall tone, and even the topics he decides to write on. It's what makes him so fun (and, sometimes, painful) to read.
He's certainly not concise, but he's one of the tightest writers I've ever read.
Having not looked closely before now into Infinite Jest, I think I better understand why it serves as such a pons asinorum for literary fiction in general. It takes a more than ordinarily diligent and accommodating person to get through it at all without her eyes glazing over, much less to come out the other end with any sense of what actually happened between front cover and back.
(Oh, also: "ghastlily"? Really? Far be it from me to speak ill of the dead, but...)
But you have no idea what's going on in the book for the first 300 pages or so. It takes until around 500 pages in before you're immersed in the story, and then reading it becomes kind of an addiction. And once you're done, you feel an intense need to start it over again, knowing what you do now.
I only really got the theme of it on the second reading. I actually put it down for a few months the first time I tried to read it because I was confused. But it's worth it...oh man, is it worth it.
In any case, I've just bought a copy of Infinite Jest, so pretty soon I'll be finding out whether I've treated it too harshly or not harshly enough.
I do wish to note that, when I wrote the comment to which you reply, I hadn't yet read far enough into the thread to encounter the many people saying "Oh, you just have to power through the first {100,300,...} pages, and then it gets amazing!" Such claims for Infinite Jest are new to me, and it's an argument to which I'm not without sympathy; I'm forced to consider the possibility that I've judged the book too harshly, and that this may be a case where I'd be well served to suspend the usual criteria by which I decide that an author is wasting my time.
(And I have to say, that cruise review piece you linked is doing a good job winning me over, too. Thanks for that!)
But so anyways, by all means write exactly as you feel like writing. I'm a huge fan of DFW, for example, precisely because he is all fancy and colloquial at the same time, which happens to tickle my fancy quite a bunch. I just wanted to point it out.
Either you don't give a shit about 'them' and write as pretentiously as you desire, or, like myself, you adjust your style to distance yourself from 'them' because you dislike the association.
As it is, it's rather confusing to me because I can't tell the difference between you and the 'Eng lit academia' you seem to wish to avoid.
All that said: I don't think you write like a pretentious ass and I feel anyone should communicate however they want as long as the message comes across. And personally I like your style. So rock on, I guess :). But it's essentially what DFW is doing too, I think.
I find some of the writing tough (i.e. impossible to read at night in bed) but the audio book for Infinite Jest narrated by Sean Pratt [1] is really nice. The narrator's speech is somehow easier to follow despite the number of clauses and whatever else in the writing.
[1] http://www.audible.com/pd/Fiction/Infinite-Jest-Audiobook/B0...
"And the depressed person always took care, when as an adult she attempted to describe to a supportive friend the venomous struggle over the cost of her orthodonture and that struggle's legacy of emotional pain for her, to concede that it may well truly have appeared to each parent to have been, in fact, a matter of "principle," though unfortunately not a "principle" that took into account their daughter's feelings at receiving the emotional message that scoring petty points off each other was more important to her parents than her own maxillofacial health and thus constituted, if considered from a certain perspective, a form of neglect or abandonment or even outright abuse, an abuse clearly connected-here she nearly always inserted that her therapist concurred with this assessment-to the bottomless, chronic adult despair she suffered every day and felt hopelessly trapped in."
That was one sentence. There are many favorable adjectives one could reasonably apply to it, but IMHO "tight" is not one of them.
(BTW, that sentence is not an isolated example. Here's the very next sentence:
"The approximately half-dozen friends whom her therapist-who had earned both a terminal graduate degree and a medical degree-referred to as the depressed person's Support System tended to be either female acquaintances from childhood or else girls she had roomed with at various stages of her school career, nurturing and comparatively undamaged women who now lived in all manner of different cities and whom the depressed person often had not laid eyes on in years and years, and whom she called late in the evening, long-distance, for badly needed sharing and support and just a few well-chosen words to help her get some realistic perspective on the day's despair and get centered and gather together the strength to fight through the emotional agony of the next day, and to whom, when she telephoned, the depressed person always apologized for dragging them down or coming off as boring or self-pitying or repellent or taking them away from their active, vibrant, largely pain-free long-distance lives.")