January 5th, 2012 / 3:52 pm
Snippets
Snippets
Blake Butler—
Q: How much distance is there between David Foster Wallace–the narrator–and yourself?
DFW: I don’t understand the question?
Golly.
welp, there goes the rest of my work day
This interview reads like a send up of an interview. Anyone else thought it was almost its own satirical form? Anyway, I logged on here to write the word, Golly. Gian beat me to the spiked punch.
This is a bit of a tickle for me.
He seems like a dick in the beginning. That’s all I read.
cool
‘And so me and the PR guy went out and ate like threepieces of cake each and apologized to each other for three hours.’
I think the answer to the question snipped here, which rephrasing relies on something Wallace had said, is revealing:
“Shtick” is a word that Wallace had used in referring to himself writing non-fiction:
It shouldn’t be troubling that there is a “shtick”, a “persona”–that’s inescapable in being a ‘person’ at all and is only intensified in the cases of performer and, perhaps more so, of celebrity. What might be intriguing even to a Wallace agnostic is that this “persona”, “DFW”, doesn’t mutate upon being outed – upon being referred to explicitly – but rather folds ‘beting stripped “naked”‘ into its performance — into its clothesure.
I only understand what you’re saying maybe 1 out of 10 times, but when I do, I’m always rewarded!
It figures some of you would identify with the guy interviewing David Foster Wallace. What a bunch of queers. That man talked mean to me! That man said I asked stupid questions! That man is very disrespectful! I don’t like that! No one is allowed to talk to me like that! My name is Johhny Fauntleroy! I’m the King of France! My question is: what are you wearing right now? Pinafores?
Is someone paying you to be a petulant child, or did you just volunteer?
It figures that you would be one of the millions sucking DFW’s cock as if he could do no wrong.
THIS IS NOT THE LESSON WE SHOULD TAKE FROM THE INTERVIEW