I joined a group of people this summer who are making the daunting attempt to read the massive David Foster Wallace tome “Infintie Jest.” I bought a Kindle for the occasion and I have to confess: without it, I seriously doubt I would have gotten past the first chapter – again. You see – this is my second try.

I bought the door stop book shortly after it’s initial publication because a friend was reading it. At over a thousand pages, it’s size wasn’t intimidating; I rather like meaty literature. It was Wallace’s opening serve ¹ that caused me to put it down without attempting a return volley. Whut. The. Fuck.

A few months ago some of my internet friends were tossing around the idea of reading the book together. Not together together like reading in sync together – but at the same time, book-clubish ² together. It didn’t come to be until this summer when some good and brave folks out there decided to launch the Infinite Summer project. A few of us signed up, a forum for discussion was created and then…

Well, amongst each other, there hasn’t been much discussion. At least none that I’ve been party to. Which is okay, really, because more intimidating than reading the book is the idea of trying to Discuss It.

I’m just a speck of an insect floating on the top of the vast sea that is this book – not even my Kindle can define of most of the gold-plated words Wallace pulls out of his lexicon and his intellect is leaving vapor trails it’s so far over my head, for chrissakes.

But I am soldiering on. I’ve relied on our guides over at Infinite Summer to get my head under the surface. Thanks to them I’ve bruised my forehead with many a V-8 moment which has gotten me to the next chapter, and the next and the next.

I was also greatly relieved to be given permission to hate the novel – which I do, in part. ³ I’ve developed a dysfunctional relationship with the book. Apropos, I think, because the book is rife with and thrives on dysfunction. So I’m fully expecting to be thoroughly screwed over by the time I reach the end. But, as with any doomed relationship, I’ll lick my wounds and do my best to take the lessons learned on to the next literary affair.

I will say this – it is absolutely true that DFW makes you work – and work hard. IJ is not for the feint of heart or those looking for a breezy summer read. He has reminded me why I fell in love with books so long ago. The opportunity to visit the world of another’s creation – and especially one of an author like Wallace who is infinitely uncompromising ⁴ in his depiction of that world – is an opportunity to deepen my relationship to and understanding of my own world.

And in this new era of 140 character weedy snippets threatening to choke our already shortened attention span, IJ is a welcome return to whole days spent reading, exercising nearly atrophied brain-cells and going on an adventure with a great mind and talent. How sad, indeed, that this one is tragically gone from us forever.

If you love literature and haven’t done so already, you owe it to yourself to settle in with the IJ experience. Truly.

No, yesterday I made the conscious decision to let the bills go unpaid, the laundry unwashed, the cat-box ungroomed, the dishes remain in the sink and curled up with a book. It just felt like the thing to do.

At brunch I brought up that I’d finally seen The Golden Compass (Netflix). I was the last of my group to see it. All of us agreed the movie left us wanting. I felt it moved at such a pace, it left no time for any depth. It was a long chase scene with a lot of CGI animation.

Those who’d read the books said “Read the books.” So, after brunch, I went straight to Border’s and bought the books. I bought two other books as well. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book – largely due to an inability to concentrate which I’m blaming on the Tramadol. Now off that crap, my voracious appetite for literature has returned.

Here is what’s now populating my night stand (which isn’t a night stand, it’s a desk, but – well, you get the idea):

1776 by David McCullough

Children of Hurin – Tolkien

Gentlemen of the Road – Michael Chabon

The Shape Shifter – Tony Hillerman

His Dark Materials Trilogy – Phillip Pullman

What Every Body is Saying – Joe Navarro

That last book is what took me from my responsibilities. I’m fascinated with the subject due to the hobby that will not be named here and it’s a quick read. Today, while at Panera (which, by the way, has become a wifi nazi by now limiting access to thirty minutes and banning access during weekday lunch rush….) I started McCullough’s 1776.

This coming weekend I trek off to Philadelphia for a chance to be a tourist and visit the historic sites where our founding fathers tread. I intend to have that book read by then in the hopes to enhance the trip with the relavancy of McCullough’s literary depiction. In fact, I’m just about to throw today to the winds and get some more reading done. I have paid one major bill (the credit card) and the cat-box is clean and fresh…

… yup, sounds like a good idea. I’ll see you fine folk later!