Mugger's Remorse. (Or why I shouldn't have kicked James Wood.)
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My short essay on David Foster Wallace has appeared in Prospect, under the title The Rest is Silence.
The first two responses I received were both from James Wood, one of the three finest literary critics of the age (and currently top book bloke at the New Yorker). His first email started, “You have a lot of gall…”
I couldn’t really disagree. I took a wild swipe at him out of nowhere, late in the article. This is partly the result of the extreme overcompression that all my essays undergo as I write them. I try to jam about a book’s worth of ideas into the single page available, and so a long, nuanced sequence of subtle, gossamer-delicate thoughts gets reduced to a blow from a brick in a sock.
Though I do disagree with some of James Wood’s notions, I don’t disagree nearly as strongly as is implied by my rude and unfair sentence. (In fact, having reread it, I’m thinking of writing a letter to Prospect complaining about myself.)
(James Wood’s second email, an hour later, was a fine, dignified and reasonable restatement of his position on David Foster Wallace. Such a civilised response to being mugged reflects very well on the man. I look forward to arguing with him properly sometime. If he’ll ever speak to me again.)
Other interesting reactions to The Rest Is Silence are appearing on the blogs. Some thoughtful stuff on suicide and universities over at Inside Higher Education.
The pro-guns, pro-liberty blog The Smallest Minority has suggested that a line from my piece ("If it has an off-button, it is not oppression"), should be put on T-shirts. A splendid idea.
And over on Prospect’s First Drafts blog, I am accused of fascism, and told to hang myself.
As ever, I agree with everyone. Many fine points, splendidly expressed. I shall go away, brood upon them, and reform my character.