(no subject)

[owlectomy]

I just heard that David Foster Wallace killed himself.

I have hardly read any of his work, but I feel diminished right now.

When writers kill themselves, it makes me feel like we're living in a Call of Cthulhu game where anyone who bothers to care too much, to know Things That Man Was Not Meant To Know, cannot even survive the toll it takes.

That isn't true, of course. All kinds of people get depressed, and all kinds of people don't manage to survive it, and all kinds of people care deeply about life and people and the human condition whether they're plumbers or stockbrokers or performance artists. To say otherwise is pretentious, self-aggrandizing BS.

But he was a guy who loved words more than I can ever hope to.

Comments

[asahellsing.livejournal.com]

That's a great point.