Remembering David Foster Wallace

Author David Foster Wallace committed suicide at his home on September 12th. I never had the fortitude to make it through Infinite Jest, but remember hiding a book of his stories in my desk while working a dreadful office job in college, sneaking a few pages at a time as the place would empty out.

His short story, Good People, is one of the best pieces of fiction I know of to describe an abortion decision. It certainly rivals Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephants. Picture two kids from the junior college, always known as good Christian kids, serious kids, nice kids.

Imagine them sitting on a picnic table looking out over a lake before her appointment as he tries to figure out what to say--what one is supposed to say in situations like this. I love how the main character battles between what he wants to say and what he thinks he should be feeling. As a counselor, I think it's a very accurate portrayal of how couples struggle to articulate their feelings, but often wind up not saying much at all, for fear of hurting or putting undue pressure on their partner.

Below is an excerpt. The full story is available here from the New Yorker, and definitely worth a read.

He told her that he did not know what to do. That he knew if he was the salesman of it and forced it upon her that was awful and wrong. But he was trying to understand—they’d prayed on it and talked it through from every different angle. Lane said how sorry she knew he was, and that if he was wrong in believing they’d truly decided together when they decided to make the appointment she should please tell him, because he thought he knew how she must have felt as it got closer and closer and how she must be so scared, but that what he couldn’t tell was if it was more than that. He was totally still except for moving his mouth, it felt like. She did not reply. That if they needed to pray on it more and talk it through, then he was here, he was ready, he said. The appointment could get moved back; if she just said the word they could call and push it back to take more time to be sure in the decision. It was still so early in it—they both knew that, he said. This was true, that he felt this way, and yet he also knew he was also trying to say things that would get her to open up and say enough back that he could see her and read her heart and know what to say to get her to go through with it. He knew this without admitting to himself that this was what he wanted, for it would make him a hypocrite and liar. He knew, in some locked-up little part of him, why it was that he’d gone to no one to open up and seek their life counsel, not Pastor Steve or the prayer partners at campus ministries, not his UPS friends or the spiritual counseling available through his parents’ old church. But he did not know why Sheri herself had not gone to Pastor Steve—he could not read her heart. She was blank and hidden. He so fervently wished it never happened.

Comments

[passing hair drug test]

Nice Post I already digged this,I subscribed to your blog when is the next post

[mk]

Ahhhhh, SoMG. I've found you. How are things? There is a movie/live performance of some opera coming out in theaters...have you heard about this? What do you think?

[SoMG]

Rewatching the Palin Biden Debate: Sarah Palin not only said "nucular" several times but she also said "infastructure" twice. No way.