The Art of Racing in the Rain

I'm glad to see that Evan is back on board with his posts.  Although, he's gone a bit high brow....showing off all his fancy schooling.  So I'll take a step back.

This book (The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein) is not literature.  It's probably sneered at by English major types.  There's not a hidden meaning (that I can get).  There's some metaphor, for sure, but no "the dog represents the pain of giving birth" type stuff.  I think.  It's just there.  A simple story that makes you think about things a little bit differently.  I challenge you to read this book and not cry a little bit.

Even more so, I challenge you to read this book and not feel a little bit inspired.  I finished it a week ago.  The feeling that I lack a true goal in my life has subsided.  A bit.  But, in a way, I feel one step closer to finding it.  Hopefully.

How did the Renaissance men do it?  Would DaVinci be writing computer code during the daytime and banging out street art at night if he were around today?  Are there any truly successful modern people that aren't completely and totally focused on one narrow path?  Besides Justin Timberlake.  And maybe Shawn White.

Infinite Jest

I finished Infinite Jest last night. It took me a long time to read. I'm embarrassed that it took me so long to read this book, but it was such an experience. Like I've really worked over the last few months.

I'm still searching for meaning and a bit baffled at what I read. There are just so many great things about this book. I feel like this is the Ulysses (not that I've read that) of our generation. Without spoiling anything:

1) I started this book twice. I didn't notice it at first, but the first chapter is absolutely hilarious and I was surprised that I missed that the first time through.

2) If you decide to read this book, keep a notebook beside you and write down notes about each character. I wish I had done this.

3) This was published in 1996. His ability to forecast the future of information dissemination and network television is eerie.

4) Probably 3/4's of the way through the book there is an exchange between the Mom's and Mario. Not much is said in this exchange but it left me with a really profound feeling. Like I had been standing there. Like I had an incredible fondness for Mario and an idea of who he was. I feel sad that I don't actually know him.

5) The way that David Foster Wallace gives out information is very interesting. He hints and suggests and then finally tells you what is going on almost like it's already obvious or like he's accidentally let something slip. I don't think I have such subtlety within me.

Update - Coincidentally, Slate just posted an old interview with David Foster Wallace. It was done in 1998 and DFW says "I've never been on the Internet". He barley knew how to use a computer at this point. He used a typewriter. Somehow, this makes his sci-fi predictions in Infinite Jest even more impressive. Not that he's predicted the rise of the Internet or anything. Just some of the consequences.

Infinite Jest

I've been reading Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace for some time now. Months really. It's the second time I've started it. I'm only 219 pages in. There's a good 981 pages total. Plus a good 100 pages of footnotes.

Anyhow, I was back on page 199 a few days ago. It's really taken me that long to understand the significance of a throwaway conversation he just kind of threw in to the background of one of many threads within this story. It's a perfect argument/anology for just kind of getting off your ass and doing something without fearing failure. Accepting failure. To somewhat paraphrase.

"Suppose I were to give you a key ring with ten keys. With, no, with a hundred keys, and I were to tell you that one of these keys will unlock it, this door we're imagining opening in onto all you want to be, as a player. How many of the keys would you be willing to try?"

"Well I'd try every darn one."

" Then you are willing to make mistakes, you see. You are saying you will accept 99% error. The paralyzed perfectionist you say you are would stand there before that door. Jingling the keys. Afraid to try the first key."

How perfect is that?

Books are sometimes hard

I have several books that I've tried reading over the last few years but just can't make it over the beginning hump. Gravity's Rainbow is the worst one for me. I've started that thing at least two or three times but I can't make it past the first quarter. I've also started David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest and just been unable to push on through. I will try both of these again, but when this happens, I feel sad and dumb.

I enjoy reading but I'm seldom looking for (or seeing) a deeper meaning or theme. I like a good story and these books make me feel like I'm not smart enough to get it.

So I've been reading a fair amount of Chuck Klosterman lately. Eating the Dinosaur is remarkably current and I very much enjoyed it. Sex, Drugs and Coco Puffs didn't quite do it for me. None of the topics were very near to me so it didn't resonate. I'm on to IV and it's really quite fabulous.

One essay/article/piece has been especially captivating for me over the last few days. He writes about his experience on a Styx/REO Speedwagon/Journey themed cruise. It reminds me of an article I read a few years ago about a similar Barenaked Ladies themed cruise. It got me wondering...

Twenty years from now, which current bands are going to be playing at suburban casinos and hosting themed cruises? Is my future self going to be interested in something like that? What band would force me to take part in something like this? What's the next frontier for washed up musicians?

Anyhow, in Klosterman's essay he references a David Foster Wallace essay about a week-long cruise. I just finished reading it. It's so oddly descriptive. It's an amazing(ly long) read. It also makes me imagine David Foster Wallace on a cruise, holed up in his room, standing in strange places observing everybody, just being an all-around pale skinned weirdo. I think that if one had encountered him in real life he would have come across as a person too strange to befriend. Like the weird guy in your high school that didn't talk to anybody, wore lots of black and spent most of his time writing in his notebook (actually, I was pretty good friends with a guy like this. He didn't wear black though). It's a shame, really.