David Foster Wallace

I've been thinking about this man a lot this month. I'm almost always late to discover anyone or anything that is in the collective conscience of the universe and this author and his work is a prime example. While reading Infinite Jest I went to YouTube to see if there were any interviews and found two. One was with Charlie Rose and another was with a German interviewer, which was superb, as it was quite conversational.

What I surmised from these interviews was that David Foster Wallace was kind. He was courteous, considerate and extremely thoughtful in his answers. He smiled frequently, apologised often, and came across as a bit shy. He really paid attention to the interviewers and listened. He didn't do that thing where you stay quiet and wait your turn to talk - he listened. He was very self-honest, to coin a goofy new word, and gave insightful and reflective answers.

Knowing of David's death before knowing his work, I've also been thinking a great deal about mental illness. At the time of his death he seemed to have the "everything" - he was intelligent, successful, talented, had a good sense of humour, a home, a wife, a family, a career, good looks, and a healthy body, yet something tortured him and drove him to realise his only option was to end it all. For me, my depression has always felt environmental. I have never felt that it was due to a chemical imbalance. I know how difficult depression can be and how it seems no one understands me, but it's hard to imagine how completely isolating it would be to seem to have it all yet be miserable and desperately want to feel better but unable to do so. It's crushing to imagine the depths of this kind of depressive state. It makes sense to put an end to it, but how truly sad that there was no other way out.

I was also extremely impressed with his commencement speech, This Is Water, on YouTube, especially when he talked about how to overcome and deal with the trials of the every day frustrations in life. He spoke of How to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out. I'm so glad I found my way to David Foster Wallace. I just wish he was still out there in the world.