/lit/ - Literature

>>10999983
that's because BEE is a shit writer

>Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship—be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles—is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.

>>9541144
>Anyone with the heretical gall to ask an ironist what he actually stands for ends up looking like an hysteric or a prig. And herein lies the oppressiveness of institutionalized irony, the too-successful rebel: the ability to interdict the question without attending to its subject is, when exercised, tyranny. It [uses] the very tool that exposed its enemy to insulate itself.

http://www.salon.com/2014/04/13/david_foster_wallace_was_right_irony_is_ruining_our_culture/

Which of his fictional works do you think came closest to what he wanted to do with fiction?

>>9439412
Her brassiere's snaps are in the front. His own forehead snaps clear. He thinks to kneel. But he knows what she might think if he kneels. What cleared his forehead's lines was a type of revelation. Her breasts have come free. He imagines his wife and son. Her breasts are unconfined now. The bed's comforter has a tulle hem, like a ballerina's little hem. This is the younger sister of his wife's college roommate. Everyone else has gone to the mall, some to shop, some to see a movie at the mall's multiplex. The sister with breasts by the bed has a level gaze and a slight smile, slight and smoky, media-taught. She sees his color heighten and forehead go smooth in a kind of revelation--why she'd begged off the mall, the meaning of certain comments, looks, distended moments over the weekend he'd thought were his vanity, imagination. We see these things a dozen times a day in entertainment but imagine we ourselves, our own imaginations, are mad. A different man might have said what he'd seen was: Her hand moved to her bra and freed her breasts. His legs might slightly tremble when she asks what he thinks. Her expression is from Page 18 of the Victoria's Secret catalogue. She is, he thinks, the sort of woman who'd keep her heels on if he asked her to. Even if she'd never kept heels on before she'd give him a knowing, smoky smile, Page 18. In quick profile as she turns to close the door her breast is a half-globe at the bottom, a ski-jump curve above. Figure skaters have a tulle hem, as well. The languid half-turn and push at the door are tumid with some kind of significance; he realizes suddenly she's replaying a scene from some movie she loves. In his imagination's tableau his wife's hand is on his small son's shoulder in an almost fatherly way.

>smart
>handsome
>funny
>sensitive
>talented
>athletic
>white
>male
>published
>educated at elite schools
>famous
>constantly had his dick wet
>critical acclaim
>tall
>massive dick
>beloved by millions
>wise and knowledgeable
>Charlie Rose respected him
>the entire English-language literary community respected him
>had his own Wikipedia page
>had a loving girlfriend
>had loving pets
>had a loving family
So why did he do it, /lit/? He was the closest thing to a perfect human being that modern Western society could produce

RIP DFW

>There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, "Morning, boys, how's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, "What the hell is water?"

What did he mean by this?

“The truth is you already know what it's like. You already know the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another and yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes.

>>8129028
[1] Wallace-posting: A tradition among users of 4chan's literature board whereby posters attempt to imitate the style of author David Foster Wallace.

>>7524367
It is an actual picture of the author David Foster Wallace.

>>7420492
>implying St. DFW wasn't assassinated by the illuminati and the whole "suicide" thing wasn't just a cover up

>>6456394
Of course not.

Favorite DFW article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/20/sports/playmagazine/20federer.html

>>6399100
thanks to the Davey "420" DFW Foster Wallace for the dubs

>>6398317
Amen.

>>6385200
>>6383811
>>6383399
>>6383355
>>6383300
THANK YOU DFW FOR BLESSING US WITH DUBS
MAY THE JEST CONTINUE!

choose one.