And which Poor Tony vignette are you referring to? I’m not sure where you guys are at in the book—but if it’s the vignette I’m thinking of (where he is on the subway—trying my best not to give anything away), then I find that surprising. That is one of the most heartbreaking sections of the book, and was even featured as a pre-publication excerpt in Harper’s, I think (not that that really means anything much).

Also… the recent posts in this blog lead me to think that a lot of the A Supposedly Fun Bloggers aren’t having much fun. The posts have taken on a “do I -really- have to read this??” tone, which is okay, because maybe in the end IJ isn’t great enough as a book to warrant that kind of dedication. As good as the good parts are, it’s got some pretty glaring flaws… But I just want to suggest that, despite everything Matt Bucher wrote on the IS site, setting the book aside for a while might not be the worst idea in the world. If IJ isn’t resonating with you after page 250 or 300, then taking a break might make sense. Though, I don’t really have a great way of explaining why I think that… maybe, maybe I think it is because IJ is a book that very much has to catch you “at the right moment,” in a certain sense. You have to be receptive to it in really weird ways, and it’s a book that IMO almost demands that the reader already be buzzing a frequency that’s similar to one that it’s emitting (I may not be making ANY sense at all) before things really start to “click.” And I -don’t- want to say that either the writer or reader is at fault in that. I think it’s just something that’s inherent in the enterprise—DFW’s best fiction is so immersive and full of genuine joy that experience of reading it feels almost spiritual, and texts in that vein tend to be sort of “demanding” like that…. at least in my personal little underdeveloped opinion.

Anyway, first time I tried to read IJ, it was two summers ago, and I read through to page 200 and set it aside. The next summer, after debating that first 200 pages’ merits off and on in my head, and after reading some more of DFW’s stuff (though still feeling pretty lukewarm about it), I read through the whole thing, and it pretty much changed my life…. though I’m convinced I would’ve hated it, had I read it all the way through that first summer.

Most people agree that it’s around pages 250-330 (or so) that things start heating up…. if it’s not clicking for you by then, I humbly suggest that a break from the book is not the worst thing in the world….

(Though I hope I’m not making sound like a “difficult” and “demanding” book. It’s not. It’s loads and loads of fun, and I could sense that even during that first summer. IJ is demanding in a difference sense than most Demanding Books are—it’s demanding in terms of tone, vibe, and atmosphere. At least for me, anyway.)

And, not to be too insistent with this, but, well, James Wood is full of shit.