oda a la muerte de wallace. en el foro de Literatura:

Un tipo querible, Wallace. Juega con el lenguaje de una manera fascinante.

No se pierdan la oportunidad de leer "Aquí Y Allá" y "John Billy".

because here’s something else that’s 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 an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship — be it jesuschrist or allah, be it yahweh or the wiccan mothergoddess or the four noble truths or some infrangible 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 own 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 plant you. on one level, we all know this stuff already — it’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. the trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. worship power — you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. worship your intellect, being seen as smart — you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. and so on.
look, the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful; it is that they are unconscious. they are default-settings.

che, hablemos de langostas y la niña del pelo raro.
veinte pesos cada uno. ediciones debolsillo (esas que dicen 21 en la tapa)

yo tengo demasiadas ganas de transcribir las partes terribles de aqui y allá. cuando lo haga spameo todo el puto foro con eso, preparensen.

Transcribime el párrafo donde arregla la cocina, dale. Porfa. Una de las piezas de literatura más interesantes que me haya tocado leer en mucho tiempo.

Wallace
Foster
.......................

me compré extinción, che.

abuante debolsillo, miejah

agh. por dios, todo. por dios.

inyectar ricina
en pastelitos dulces
resuelve, en un solo acto,
la escencia
de la identidad
peronista

Girlfriend Stops Reading David Foster Wallace Breakup Letter At Page 20

February 19, 2003


BLOOMINGTON, IL—Claire Thompson, author David Foster Wallace's girlfriend of two years, stopped reading his 67-page breakup letter at page 20, she admitted Monday.

Thompson

"It was pretty good, I guess, but I just couldn't get all the way through," said Thompson, 32, who was given the seven-chapter, heavily footnoted "Dear John" missive on Feb. 3. "I always meant to pick it up again, but then I got busy and, oh, I don't know. He's talented, but his letters can sometimes get a little self-indulgent."
Foster, the award-winning author of The Broom Of The System and the 1,079-page Infinite Jest, met Thompson in March 2001 through mutual friends.
A political-science professor at Illinois State University, where Wallace teaches creative writing, Thompson said pages 4 through 11 of the letter chronicled the deterioration of the relationship "fairly well." She specifically cited Item 64, on page 7, from the section, "How I Can Tell Things Have Changed":
"It used to be that if you were away from the table or in the next room or otherwise unable to witness this admittedly unsavory and wholly intrusive activity on my part, in little spasms of unhealthy obsession I would peek into your Day Runner Personal Planner so as to gauge how much together-time we would have during the upcoming week at a glance; lately, however—if you are at all able to move past this revelation of my no-two-ways-around-it unforgivable and unjustifiable invasion of privacy and on to the rather telling point—I have found myself either viewing the week-at-a-glance in actual anticipation of our time apart or, even when opportunities for unfettered peeking presented themselves, ignoring your Day Runner Personal Planner altogether such as just last week when, stooped in rummaging position, I opted to remove from your bag and guiltily read cover-to-cover a copy of Fine Cooking magazine, therein choosing to glean particulars about the cultivation, culinary traditions, and preparation of white asparagus over those of our precious little time together."
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In addition to compiling the many reasons why the relationship was no longer working, Wallace's letter featured sections on "Why We Could Never Grow Old Together," "Ways It—Us, The World, And Everything—Has All Changed," and "Things I've Never Told You (That Will Certainly Change Your Mind About Me)."
"One thing I found annoying was that you had to read all the way to the middle to figure out what things on the first page of the letter were talking about," Thompson said. "For instance, he kept referring to somebody named The Cackler without explanation until page 11, at which point I finally found out that The Cackler is my friend Renée—essentially forcing me to read the whole first 11 pages over again. And then there are all the footnotes. I always felt he overused those in his valentines, too."
Thompson said she believes Wallace penned the breakup opus during a January lecture trip to the University of New England in Biddeford, ME.
"When he came back, he handed me a big manila envelope," Thompson said. "He said that during the trip, he confronted himself about some things he'd been avoiding, and that he needed to start living his life in a whole different way. He said the contents of the envelope would explain everything. I was just like, 'Okay, whatever, David.'"
Thompson said she did not immediately open the envelope.
"I assumed it was one of his tomes about, I don't know, the reasons why he isn't going to eat processed sugar anymore, or why he threw out his TV," Thompson said. "Or something like the one where he said, in 88 numbered points, why he didn't want a birthday party."
"Or, God, I almost forgot," Thompson added. "There was the letter where he explained how he now wants to be called 'Dave' and included a page-long description of every single 'Dave' and 'David' he's ever known in his entire life."
On Feb. 5, two days after receiving the letter, Thompson received a voicemail message from Wallace asking her what she thought of it. The message prompted her finally to open the envelope and "crack" the letter. That evening, Thompson slogged through the first 20 pages of the dense, complex Breakup Letter For Claire–Rough Draft, eventually putting it down to begin making dinner. The next morning, she moved the letter from her coffee table to a desk drawer, where it still remains, unfinished.
"Maybe I'll pick it up again," Thompson said. "I'd sort of like to see how it ends. Then again, knowing David, it probably just leaves a whole bunch of loose ends untied.