According to an Associated Press report, he killed himself, by hanging.
There aren't many authors I've bothered to go see in person, but David Foster Wallace is one of them. I had him sign my first edition hardcover of Infinite Jest, which I subsequently loaned to a neighbor who had some significant chunks of time to pass in bed for medical reasons. They never returned the book (or read it), but I did manage to rescue it from their yard sale a few months later.
The first thing I read by David Foster Wallace was a profile of David Lynch which took place during the production of Lost Highway for Premiere Magazine.
WHAT DAVID LYNCH IS REALLY LIKE. I HAVE NO IDEA. I rarely got closer than five feet away from him and never talked to him. You should probably know this up front.The first time I lay actual eyes on the real David Lynch on the set of his movie, he's peeing on a tree. This is on 8 January in L.A.'s Griffith Park, where some of Lost Highway's exteriors and driving scenes are being shot. He is standing in the bristly underbrush off the dirt road between the base camp's trailers and the set, peeing on a stunted pine. Mr. David Lynch, a prodigious coffee drinker, apparently pees hard and often, and neither he nor the production can afford the time it'd take to run down the base camp's long line of trailers to the trailer where the bathrooms are every time he needs to pee.
So, I immediately liked David Foster Wallace.
David Foster Wallace majored in English and philosophy, with a focus on modal logic and mathematics at Amherst. He graduated with summa cum laude with honors in 1985. He earned an MFA in creative writing from the University of Arizona in 1987. He received the MacArthur Foundation Genius Grant in 1997. This is a man who succeeded at everything he attempted - except his stint at Harvard to study philosophy. Interesting.
One of the ways I measure writers is how directly they speak to me. You might be describe this as 'readability' Once you get past the more global considerations, I think readability boils down to differences reader to reader. For myself, I seem to struggle the most with female writers. There is an inherent distance that I have trouble traversing. It almost feels as if the words were translated from another language. It takes more concentration, and my mind fatigues more quickly. This doesn't mean they're bad writers - the problem is entirely on my end. I found David Foster Wallace easy to read. His prose was direct, and easy to parse.
There was a time when I didn't understand the utility of teaching Ballet to young kids until I realized the grace informed everyday movement. Poetry is the same way, the beauty of the cadence, the economy of words. I know this seems ridiculous when one considers the weighty tome of Infinite Jest, but David Foster Wallace reads like poetry to me.
We know writers and artists from their works. Artists don't have to write about something personal for us to feel we know them. We know books. We know music. We extrapolate the differences of one particular source and gather the unique threads. This becomes a model in our brains for the creator. The connection is one way, which is weird, but real.
The thing that is startling to me is how unsurprised I was when I learned he took his own life. It got him. I understood. Part of me wonders if he left world's most awesome suicide note (with a ton of footnotes). But, maybe he already has and we just haven't decoded it. Not that it would have made a difference.
Gawker.com found the following quote from
a commencement speech he delivered in 2005 at Kenyon College:
Learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience. Because if you cannot exercise this kind of choice in adult life, you will be totally hosed. Think of the old cliché about quote the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master.
This, like many clichés, so lame and unexciting on the surface, actually expresses a great and terrible truth. It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in: the head. They shoot the terrible master. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger.