30.EPILOGUE.62:
October 1, 2003.
[Meanwhile, back on the couch....]And the ninth kills the twentieth century
And the tenth waits to kill you and me
The eleventh kills only our fear of the tenth
The best executioner he
--Momus, "Eleven Executioners."
"So, what are you reading,
anyway?"
"Infinite Jest,"
Heather said.
"Oh. And?"
"It goes on and on and on.
It doesn't seem very sincere. Sometimes it's funny. It's a
big thick book that's only really heavy going because of the way it's written,
and it's not really that deep. Lots of jesting, but no infinity."
Heather turned the book
over in her hands.
"And the picture of David
Foster Wallace on the back cover makes him look like a bargain-basement
Eldon from Murphy Brown."
"That's probably not the
effect he was going for," Bob said.
"Yeah. I think he's
trying too hard to look like a cool skateboareder, or a dangerous graffiti
artist."
"So why're you reading it
anyway?"
Heather shrugged.
"I had a dream a while back,"
she said. "It was weird. It was you and me and Brian at the
old coffee shop. I can't even remember what we were talking about,
but Brian said something about Infinite Jest and Cliff Claven or
something like that. And then when I woke up I felt like I wanted
to read it. Weird."
"Yeah. I get dreams,
though, too, where when I wake up I want to read something. Or buy
something. It actually happens a lot. I have dreams and then
when I wake up I feel compelled to buy something."
"So now I'm reading Infinite
Jest."
"It seems like a lot of
stuff like that came out," Bob said. "Around '97 to about 2000."
"Hm?"
"Really thick books.
Important books. And important music. To mark the Millennium,
I guess."
"Yeah, now that I think
about it. Mark Danielewski wrote House of Leaves, and there
was William Vollmann's Royal Family. And, of course Infinite
Jest."
"Important books, or books
trying to be important. Some of them were actually important."
"And Mason and Dixon
by Thomas Pynchon. And Underworld by Don DeLillo. But
they're older writers. They're part of this 'Millennium group' because
they inspired it, but they're still divorced from it. Even though
their books are 'Millennium books,' and maybe the best of all of them because
they have actual, real content."
"They're all smart and important,"
Bob said. "And really, really long."
"And really, really, 'now,'
so to speak. The books are big, and filled with raw information,
and it takes brains to read them. Both the old-school like Pynchon
and DeLillo and the new guys like Wallace. They're very informed
by current technology, and philosophy, and politics-- in a way that a lot
of more 'mainstream' writing just isn't. This is because there's
a schism between where the average Joe is, and what's going on in the world.
Average people are still, sort of, in the 19th Century. They work
for a living and then want to escape when they come home. They don't
care about what's going on in the world of philosophy, technology, or politics--
beyond what's happening on the surface-- beyond the little bits they absorb
in order to get by in their daily lives. And yet things are changing--
without the average Joe really noticing. And, to read these books
you have to be tuned in to what's changing, in a deep way. You have
to understand current theories of language to really get House Of Leaves,
for example. You have to be up-to-date to be able to wrestle with
this fiction. It's not just 19th Century-style character-driven soap
opera writing. That's what marks this 'Millennium' writing."
Heather hefted Infinite
Jest in her hands.
"And, a lot of these books
read like their authors were trying to capture something crucial about
the entirety of the 20th Century."
"A lot of them failed,"
Bob said. "But some of them didn't."
"And it's not just restricted
to books. There were musical projects that tried this, too.
They were big, ambitious, and deep. Like the 50 cd Merzbox,
and the 12 cd Aube project-- that one never happened. And the John
Cage piece that's supposed to last for centuries. 'Organ2/ASLSP (As
Slow As Possible).' Remember that? I don't know if it's still
going on, but I can't see why it shouldn't be-- but at least the Merzbox
came out."
"And David Bowie's Outside
project, which never really completely happened," Bob said.
"But, again, the Merzbox
came out," Heather said.
Bob thought for a minute.
"But it all just sort of
imploded," he said. "Like, the momentum just left. And now
no one really has that ambitious fever any more."
"That's because the it's
21st Century now. The moment is gone."
"That's no reason to stop,
though, is it? I mean--"
"Well, really, the 21st
Century is only a few years old. Peter Greenaway has his Tulse
Luper Suitcases thing. That's big. I mean, three movies,
a bunch of books, a website, and 90-odd dvds to tell the entire story.
Whatever the story is. I mean, that's huge. And William Vollmann's
got his big Rising Up And Rising Down essay. That's gonna
be, like, either 6 volumes or 4 volumes or something."
"Yeah," Bob said, halfheartedly.
"That is big...."
"And Vollmann is actually
one of those big 'Millennium' writers who actually has content. Has
both style and substance.Ý (Mark Danielewski is another one.) But,
really, there hasn't been much time since the century started. So
all the fever isn't really over. It's just taking a bit of a break."
"But still, it still feels
like something's over. Over before it even really started."
She put the book on the
coffee table.
"What the hell are you talking
about?" she said. "Sure some-- well, okay, most-- of these big projects
didn't really turn out they way maybe people would've wanted them to.
Sure things like Infinite Jest and A Hearbreaking Work Of Staggering
Genius don't really capture the spirit of the Millennium, but that
doesn't mean the books aren't entertaining and smart-- for all their faults--
and that doesn't mean-- that-- that-- well-- Well, at least they
tried."
"I guess. But, still."
"No buts. At least
people like David Foster Wallace did something, and that's a lot more than
you can say about 90% of the people out there who say they have ambitions
to do-- well, anything."
"I guess. But it's
also all so self-consciously hip and cool."
"What's wrong with that?
Nothing. People want to be cool. You were just complaining
about how as a generation we're 'over,' and that means you're upset because
you can't consider yourself cool any more. Cool changes. It's
not an absolute, as much as people who proclaim things to be cool want
to believe. Cool's not an absolute. It's relative."
"I guess. But I don't
really connect with a lot of it."
"That's your fault, not
the faults of the authors. Maybe that also signals that you never
really were 'cool,' Bob." She laughed. "But, yeah, I don't
really connect with Infinite Jest beyond admiring Wallace's style,
and I don't really get all that jazzed for people like David Eggers, either.
As much as I tried to be interested. It's just that they're all so
arch. They try so hard to be witty and flashy and ironic and cute.
And that's nifty for a while, but I'd rather have a bit of sincerity, now
and then. It's just that whenever anyone tries to be sincere the
art always get accused of being pretentious or overly dramatic or overwrought
or maudlin. And this is because everybody is used to thinking of
themselves as being all so distant and cool and ironic, and way too sophisticated
and smart to deal with real emotions. And real emotions are messy
and annoying. They're not detached, they're not cool and filled with
self deprecating irony. They explode, they're uncontrollable, and
they are messy and ugly and off-putting. They're not a pose-- but
because everyone is so postmodern now, they all think that real emotions
are a pose, a crappy act-- because everybody is used to art that's all
just a big act, now. That's where they think reality lies.
When it's not the case at all. Real emotions are hard to take, just
like real intellect.
"And there's also no...
what... uncertainty in a lot of these hip, thick books. That's one
thing Pynchon and DeLillo have-- lots of uncertainty. But a lot of
their followers don't have this aspect to their writing. There's
is uncertainty to Vollmann, and Danielewski-- but people like Wallace and
Eggers have no uncertainty in their writing."
"What do you mean?"
"There's no drive to deal
with big issues, or if they do so, they do it in a light way. I mean,
Infinite
Jest is all about addiction, and yet I never get the feeling that Wallace
has ever experienced addiction firsthand, and so everything just becomes
a comedy: people are addicted to drugs, alcohol, movies, terrorism, paranoia,
crime, and so forth-- but it never really seems sincere. Wallace
has this mild WASP attitude that makes it seem as if he's saying 'Jeepers,
if we all just went to church and were nice to each other and prayed to
a good little WASP God, life would be okay... shucks, why do people get
mad?' There's a distance from sincerity and depth in his writing.
He's too sure of himself, and of the 'fact' that deep down inside life's
just this slightly sad, but still ultimately spiffy comedy of manners,
and there's a just God up there, making everything okay. And so,
ultimately there's no questioning in his writing, no, for lack of better
term, 'spiritual paranoia.' Wallace is certain he knows what the
universe is about and this makes his writing seem frivolous and fluffy
on a very deep level. I want people to ask questions, and I want
books to make me ask questions. Eggers does something similar-- not
so much in A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius, but in You
Shall Know Our Velocity-- he seems a little too much like Wallace--
not actually angry or sad, but putting on this concerned-white-guy act.
The main characters have to get rid of all their money because they feel
guilty for being white upper-class males. And that's just stupid.
It's a pretentious act designed to cash in on the sympathies of a certain
kind of media generated 'subculture' that wants to pretend they care about
the downtrodden, but still never really wants to leave the comfort of their
upper middle-class world-- or if they do, they go down South and hold peasants
in their arms for a little while, always safe in the knowledge that they
have a warm bed and a nice bath waiting for them back home the second they
get bored with slumming.
"And, again, there's no
real wrestling with uncertainty. Even in Staggering Genius--
the first part of which is indeed very good-- there's a sense of posture
above all else. And lots and lots of 'irony' used to (I assume) keep
the sadness of Eggers's losing his parents at bay. But, really, there's
still no real depth to it. No sense of any kind of spiritual/intellectual
quest. It's all very, very certain about its place in the universe,
and your place in the universe, and everything's place in the universe.
"Again, life is unfair,
but deep down inside life's just this slightly sad, but still ultimately
spiffy comedy of manners. And there's little room for railing and
fighting and questioning. And trying to wrestle the universe down,
pin the universe to the mat, squeeze some answers out of it, and try to
make it pay.
"Too much certainty.
No spiritual paranoia. Or, maybe, this is maybe better: no ontological
fear. Just lots of boring pragmatism disguised by wackiness.
"And, again, Vollmann is
exempt from this. He's the read deal. He's very angry.
And his books are about more than just their shiny, well-proofread surfaces.
"(Danielewski, too.
Although I don't think he'll write a second book. House Of Leaves
is a big gimmick-book and, although it's smart, Danielewski will have to
come up with another big gimmick to top it, and I don't think he can.
And you can tell this by the fact that he that released the poems from
House
Of Leaves in a separate volume, with a few added pages, as a kind of
cash-grab.)
"But, on the whole, no one
wants to ask 'why are we here and what's it all about?' Which are
maybe unanswerable questions, but really they're still a couple of the
only ones that are really worth asking. They are necessary questions,
and if you avoid them your work becomes shallow.
"Like I said, a lot of jesting,
but almost no infinity.
She coughed.
"But," she said, "on the
other hand, at least the people who wrote these big books-- at least they're
doing something. When so many other so-called 'artists' and 'musicians'
and 'writers' do diddly and parade around like you're supposed to worship
the ground they walk on. Even if you think what people like Wallace
and Eggers do is crap, or too self-consciously hip-- or whatever-- at least
they're doing something. And it's something big."
Bob looked at the tv.
The screen was blank. He wondered how long it had been blank.
"I think your biggest problem
is that you expected too much out of an arbitrary date," Heather said.
"There is no way the 21st Century could have lived up to what you wanted
it to be."
"I'm not sure I even knew
what I wanted it to be."
"Then there's even less
chance it could have lived up to your expectations."
"I must have had something
in mind," Bob said.
"My guess is you were hoping
for some sort of vague, science-fictiony impossibility to occur.
And, of course it never would. Because it was a vague, science-fictiony
impossibility. And hence vague, science-fictiony or unreal, and impossible.
So you set yourself up for a fall. You should just get over it."
"Hmp," Bob hmped.
This hadn't helped his mood. Heather had only made him aware of the
fact he'd been whining about absolutely nothing, and doing it in a self-conscious
and unfocused way, and that only pissed him off more. But, at the
same time, he wasn't sure he'd only been whining about nothing....
"If the turn of the century
accomplished one thing," Heather said, "it made some people get off their
asses and produce big statements of some kind. It made some people
do something. Even if only for a little while. And I don't
think that these people-- Wallace and Vollmann and Eggers, and musicians
like Merzbow-- are done. Not by a long shot. (Even if I don't
like Merzbow-- but Brian thinks he's pretty good.) And you can say
they're too hip, or trite and whatever-- but at least they are looking
towards tomorrow and not wallowing in the past. They're trying to
expand horizons. Not just keep repeating tried and true formulas.
Or if they are repeating formulas, they're repeating their own formulas,
and strengthening their visions. And you might not like their visions,
but at least they have visions. And, I, for one, wish they were on
the whole more sincere. Again, Vollmann is. And of course Pynchon
and DeLillo. But, still, whatever they're doing, they still just
don't just sit around all day watching reruns of Buffy The Vampire Slayer,
jerking off into old socks, and moping about violence. They are doing
something, rather than nothing. They are motivated. Now let
me read, it was starting to get good."
Bob looked at her, kind
of stunned.
"But I thought you didn't
like the book," he said.
"I don't," she said.
"But I think when I'm done with it I'm going to read it again."
Next: Abandoned cities and minimal tendencies....