This Is Water

I will admit, somewhat embarrassingly, that until his suicide some months back, I was unfamiliar with David Foster Wallace. Many internet voices that I regularly read were distraught at the news of his death, but I'll admit I thought little of it. Recently, I have been reading some of his work. I didn't "discover" him, in much the same way that Balboa did not "discover" the Pacific Ocean. Thousands, if not millions of people had read and been affected - positively or negatively - by his work. One does not gain near universal acclaim as "the greatest American writer of his generation" without readers and without writing chops.

Wallace was a tortured soul, as could be guessed by his choice of death. He also wrote in the manner he desired, often continuing single sentences for a page or more. Life, humanity, consciousness, and the infinite were his canvas. I have in my possession his masterwork, Infinite Jest, a novel whose title is not ironic - it's a thousand pages long. I haven't had the balls to start. I did, however, came across a speech he gave to the graduates of Kenyon College in 2005, the exact time I was also graduating. It is said to be the only time Wallace ever publicly spoke about his views on life.

To say anything should be required reading for graduates is trite and perhaps even insulting. That being said: this address, opportunistically published in book-form as This Is Water, should be required reading for graduates. The best freely available version I've found online here. If you have a minutes to read this essay, I highly suggest you do so, if you have not already.

The issues that Wallace tackles here are those I've often discussed (far less eloquently) in my own mind. You can read for yourself and draw your own conclusions. Those who follow JC might see little to glean from the writings of a man who killed himself before he reached the age of 50. But Wallace himself isn't anti-religion, in fact I found his stance quite convincing. Not that I've been converted to God, but instead I agree that holding to some higher ideal keeps us from being destroyed by the worship of things that will only consume us. It reads like a modern day exposition of Baruch Spinoza: all we can strive to do is understand each other. It isn't easy, it often isn't pleasant, and it surely isn't common. But it is something that we control. Excuse me while I block quote, because I love this, so very much:

And the world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the world of men and money and power hums along quite nicely on the fuel of fear and contempt and frustration and craving and the worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom to be lords of our own tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the centre of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the "rat race" - the constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing.

Nobody has it all figured out. Nobody, to use the parlance of our times, 'sees the Matrix.' But, without question, some people are farther along than others. Wallace's suicide is the elephant in the room as to "why should I trust him?" and yet, to me, it's the very evidence that I should do so. Perhaps if we saw (or felt that we saw) the superstructure that held up our consciousness, and that of all humanity, we'd want to end it all as well. While a suicide, especially that of a noted figure, is often considered "tragic," for him it might have been a release.

I plan to use what's left of this summer to read, to learn, to walk, to think, to relax, and to pursue one ultimate goal: to understand.

Feel free to now throw your rotten vegetables and fruits.