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Saturday, March 21, 2026

Ad Infinitum

In the last few years, I’ve come to realize with my love for old books, I’ve neglected some recent fiction. I’ve checked a lot of lists online of “Best Recent Novels,” “Best Twentieth Century Novels,” “Best Novels of the Last Fifty Years,” “Best Novels of the Twenty-First Century,” and whatever else comes up. One novel that comes up on almost every list that encompasses 1996 is David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. It’s a long one: over a thousand pages. But I got off to a good, quick start this year and had the time on my schedule. So I jumped in about a week before the Winter Olympics began.

Now you’d think (and I did think) that this would be the kind of novel I’d really like. It has footnotes. It has footnotes that have footnotes. It’s satire of our civilization includes the notion that time itself is now sponsored by corporations: most of the action takes place during the Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment. The best high schools mainly teach sports, and any kid who likes to learn things like – you know – science or literature is looked down upon as virtually insane. The main character of this book goes to a tennis school, and his college draft committee senses a problem when they see that his grades slipped from A-plusses to mere A’s one semester. See, as I describe it, and it sounds good to me.

But Infinite Jest has a very dark streak running right down the middle. Everyone in the book is either using drugs or in rehab. Everyone using drugs resorts to crime. One poor recovering addict gets into the crossfire of a robbery gone wrong, and when he goes to the hospital, he’s unable to speak (because he’s been intubated? I could never quite tell) and can't tell the doctors not to give him narcotics because he’s an addict. And everyone accepts the idea that suicide is a reasonable response to the world.

I can see why some people consider it their favorite book and report having read it multiple times. And I don’t think you have to be crazy, addicted, or suicidal to like it. But it wasn’t for me. Especially as a book to read in between Olympic events!

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