Here and there
Herb: Is there no "ending" to "Infinite Book" because there couldn’t be? Or did you just get tired of writing it?
DFW: There is an ending as far as I’m concerned. Certain kind of parallel lines are supposed to start converging in such a way that an "end" can be projected by the reader somewhere beyond the right frame. If no such convergence or projection occurred to you, then the book’s failed for you.
I would feel a lot less regret right now if I had posted this years ago. This is a very overdue1 return. Writing is such a solitary, personal practice. It always intrigues me. After a year in isolation, I’m now putting my own timetable to things I wanted to do but couldn’t before.
Last week, I turned the final page of Infinite Jest2, a novel I had been trying to finish for a very long time. Honestly, I have no idea when I first started the book. Why did I pick up David Foster Wallace’s maybe-dead-end novel?
I remember that, after a night exam at ITU Gümüşsuyu Campus, I went with friends to Leman Kültür—one of the nicest cafés on İstiklal Street in my early university years. Leman contained a mini-stage where comedian Cem Yılmaz performed his first stand-up shows in the ’90s. Inside, it was a cornucopia of peculiar cartoons, vintage seating, and dim lighting. At Leman, the playlists were always thoughtfully put together, and the large space helped the music travel well. It was there that I discovered Tame Impala3, whom I’ve been admiringly listening to ever since, especially through those unhinged, inspirational playlists.
While leaving the café, I got a phone call from Robinson Crusoe 389 Bookstore. A book I’d ordered from abroad had arrived, and I stopped by “Rob389” to pick up Infinite Jest. On my way home, after flipping through it, I realized I would be living with this Infinite book for quite a while.
The trouble with Infinite Jest—especially in the first half—was reading through pages with no paragraphs, drifting portrayals, and those infamous footnotes. I almost gave up. Fortunately, the gripping second half helped me reach the end. I’m already looking for the right moment to read it again.
I thought it was a good chance to update my website and publish my first article in four years. A tweet4 I came across months ago revealed just how untimely writing can feel. There are many fascinating points I want to explore about Infinite Jest, and I plan to do so in a series of articles. Today, though, I’m happy to share how I first encountered DFW and how I get to talk about him here.
I discovered David Foster Wallace at a TED Talks5 event at ITU Taşkışla Campus. I went there to hear Caner Eler, whom I knew from Tour de France broadcasts. The event’s main theme was “turning points,” and he discussed the points that had changed his own life and those of major athletes—like Ervin Zátopek and that famous “blood in the water” match, the cyclist (and liar) Lance Armstrong, and Ethiopian champion Abebe Bikila’s unpretentious but passionate Olympic run.
He appeared on stage with a slim book in his hand, but initially didn’t mention it. As his time ran out, he asked for a little more time, opened the book, and quoted David Foster Wallace:
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?"
I was nineteen when I stumbled upon DFW’s commencement speech. It felt like the ground had slipped out from under my feet. Looking back, that day may have been one of my own turning points. Ever since, even years after DFW’s death, I’ve been able to relate deeply to his writings and speeches. That connection pushes me into lines of thought I might never otherwise find.
Anyway, by dropping this post here, maybe I’ll start writing more in the coming days—or maybe not. See you soon, hopefully.
1. Four year break. I do not know why...
2. Our planet's best novel!
3. Music To Walk Home by was playing in the cafe that day.
4. Tweet about Grantland I came across
5. Caner Eler is one of the prominent sport journalist in Turkish media. The first time I listened to Caner was on Eurosport 10 years ago. In 2015, he founded Socrates Magazine, of which I own every single issue published to date. Here’s a talk he gave at my school, which I also attended that day.