How I Stopped Reading "Infinite Jest"
I don't like leaving books unfinished; there's not many that I've not hauled my way through once begun.

But there is a small, select group of works that I could not complete. Infinite Jest is the latest title to be added to this list.

The realisation that it was an utter waste of paper came one rainy, blowy, and cold Thursday evening; I noticed that I was on page three hundred and something, and had absolutely no idea what had gone on for about the previous fifty. On checking, my puzzlement was explained. Nothing had gone on.

Something crossed my mind at that moment. I had meant to go to the bank, and forgotten. The nearest hole-in-the-wall was at my local Tesco. This wasn't far, but - as I've mentioned - it was cold, windy, and rainy outside. Not the kind of evening into which one would choose to venture. Besides: I could go to the bank in the morning.

And yet one thought was inescapable: going outside into the filthy night was vastly preferable to reading one more word of IJ.

I looked out of the window at the storm. I looked back down at the remaining 800 closely-printed pages of sophomoric prose, meandering footnotes, and achingly arch footnotes-to-footnotes. I looked back out of the window as a particularly strong gust of wind pummelled the rain - and was that hail, too? - against the pane...

... and I went to put on my coat.

And that is how I stopped reading Infinite Jest.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:38, 6 replies)

I lasted about 50 pages
and thought "where the fuck is this going?" and looked at some reviews.
The reviews said: "Nowhere".
Packed it in - luckily I didn't waste any more time on it then, eh?
(SigourneysBeaver took off and nuked the entire site from orbit on, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 16:57, closed)

This is top stuff...

The post, not the book...by the sound of it anyway (I haven't read it, and don't intend to).

annnnnnnnnnnnnd *click*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 5 Jan 2012, 21:16, closed)

I'm reading it now...
...currently on about page 580, and it's brilliant!

If you're desperate for a book to bundle you through the plot without ever putting you down then IJ will be a major disappointment. But if you enjoy prose just for the sake of it then IJ is full of funny, touching, occasionally shocking, sometimes informative, always excellent writing. Perhaps it helps that I haven't got much time so I'm reading it verrrry slowly but, to me, each little meander or footnote seems like a short story in itself rather than a distraction from the main plot.
(flimflam_machine, Fri 6 Jan 2012, 15:12, closed)

I'm by no means a plot-monkey.
I love good writing for its own sake.

But this isn't good writing. It's not even close. Reading IJ is like jousting with ennui. I may have missed the jokes, I admit. I hope I have. I'd hate to think that corporate sponsorship of the calendar, and a list of films, are representative.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 6 Jan 2012, 22:03, closed)

thanks
been staring at me from the shelves for an age. Can stay there till I need a firelighter now.
(unclestinky, Fri 6 Jan 2012, 19:59, closed)

Agreed
I am also unfinishing my way through this book as we speak. I've been stuck on it for two months now and can't bring myself to pick it up again.
(ridethefader, Sat 7 Jan 2012, 11:35, closed)