Sunday, April 3, 2022

A feast of sorrows

I have complicated feelings about David Foster Wallace, even though I've never met him.

This piece by Anne Dowd is much more than a piece about DFW, though, and is excellent in its pacing, its simplicity, its point.

Her line "How does the heart reconcile itself to its feast of losses?" reminded me of a conversation with friends a few months ago when I asked how we go about the (to my mind, sacred) work of making ourselves a host for a feast of sorrows. Reading this, I think that's a question I might need to visit again, more deeply.