Rating: 
Summary: I've become addicted to this book.
Review: Okay so I'm not finished with the book yet, but I have a good reason: I don't want it to end. I've gone without sleep for too many hours, slugging coffee down my throat and chain smoking because I love these characters, the multiple story-lines, and the writing style. I've found myself actually cursing at the novel, threatening to throw it hard if something even more awful happens to so-and-so. I even love the footnights, which can be frustrating and rewarding at the same time. And I've never laughed so much while reading a novel. There are moments of horrible pain in this book that turn into something like watching a complete stranger fall off a bike--something inside me just splits. The dialogue is first rate, and I like how I have to break out the dictionary ever so often. I'm ready to buy everythng DFW has ever written.
Rating: 
Summary: The Emporer's New Book
Review:
A recent article in the Atlantic Monthly criticized the new crop of literary muckity-muck authors for being more interested in demonstrating their writing prowess to each other, than in formulating an interesting plot. A plot that is too interesting, apparently, can even be construed as pandering to the reader. The article's author must have read Infinite Jest.This book, when read a paragraph at a time, establishes beyond doubt that Wallace writes well. But the plot moves excruciatingly slow. By page 200 I had to pump myself up to read more. By page 300 I was not sufficiently interested in the story or characters to read any further. To demonstrate to my wife the nature of Wallace's writing I randomly opened the book and read a page. The passage, - a literary wonk's dream, described a coatrack falling and shearing the doorknob off a door. Wallace spent half a page describing the circular motion of the doorknob as it rolled on the floor, including not one, but two mathematical diagrams. There were some funny passages, but ultimately not enough for me. If you're not in a hurry and have a high tolerance for descriptive meanderings you might like this book. I, however, humbly admit to being among the uncouth masses with only a moderate attention span and relatively unsophisticated literary tastes who just doesn't get a book like this (if there is, in fact, anything to get - because perhaps this book should be retitled, The Emporer's New Book).
Rating:
Summary: Such is life
Review: A very long book, but alot of fun to read, not to mention brilliantly articulated.... The author takes on an approach to writing that I have not seen elsewhere, and combines that with the story telling of the ebb and flow of everyday life. With the exception of touchy Canadians, most people who don't mind a long read would enjoy the book and find things that directly related to their lives. The contrast of characters and plot is exceptional, and sheds some light on some of the best and worst things happening to people in the modern world. Addiction, relationships (not all men are scum!), perception, and the statue of liberty are only a few of the myriad of topics covered in this hefty book. Enjoy the reading, but beware of giant rodents and tennis academies!
Rating:
Summary: So What?!! Long OVER-rated.
Review: I've rarely laughed out loud reading any novels...and this book was no exception. If I had read this novel when I was in High School I might have thought differently about it. I may have enjoyed the sophmoric humor or marveled at the descent of a drug addiction.So what? Wallace never convnices me that he has any more profound a view of the world than I did at sixteen...and that's the waste. I can appreciate new and novel approaches to even the most tired of experimental fiction but, his is neither. I believe he's decades behind his time. Don't listen to those that are fighting to be the first to proclaim the next Joyce, Faulkner or Pynchon. Even the novel mocks itself...and for good reason...a long, bad joke. By the way, I also used to think that the "Doors" were cool...then you grow up.
Rating: 
Summary: Almost, but not quite. Let's be honest.
Review: In response, every review on the page save Derk's missed the point entirely. This is an amazingly well crafted and thought out novel, giving one of the best, if not the definitive, journalistic accounts of both addiction and depression. While this is a substantial achievment (truly, I may not be giving him enough credit for this), the novel fails to be the next truly groundbreaking piece of literature. I am a snob, and I don't mind saying it, so the review is low because I have given David Foster Wallace the pleasant position of competing with the greatest authors of all time. I found, however, that his novel was more smart than it was heartfelt, and instead was the same ironic cage that David Foster Wallace comments on in his essay on television (the second essay in "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again", which I must say is the best essay I've ever read on television, and is a better introduction to Wallace that a 1088 page book...but I digress.) Again, I revisit the main point: this is the best account to date, that I have read, on addiction and depression, both of which are issues deeply important to me about which I have done tremendous research. I tip my hat to David Foster Wallace, and hope he can say something next time that he himself wouldn't criticize.
Rating:
Summary: I and or Us
Review: Infinite Jest is a metaphor for the universe.
Rating: 
Summary: Annular fiction
Review: Cleverness for it's own sake. Detail without depth. Literary onanism, as some other reviewers have pointed out. Still, Infinite Jest makes for a very good read, especially after you figure some things out. First, read the footnotes, as they advance and comment on the plot. Use two bookmarks. Second, have a dictionary handy at all times, the bigger the better. The OED would be optimal (Hal: "I'm an OED man, myself"), but a Webster's Unabridged will do in a pinch. This isn't one of those books where you can gloss over the big words or hope to pick them up from context. You need to know, for example, that "dipsomania" is another word for alcoholism. Third, be prepared for the lack of conclusion. Resign yourself to the fact that if you want to know what happens, you're going to have to read the book TWICE (or at least go back and read the first chapter again). If I had known these things when I first read Infinite Jest three years ago, I would have been spared a great deal of anguish. After spending three weeks of my life night and day with this book, I felt personally betrayed that there was no conclusion. I was so angry I wanted to burn the book and send the ashes to the author accompanied by a nasty letter. It was months later when I finally found out that the beginning is the end. Of course, DFW gives the reader ample hints. I just didn't catch on the first time. The footnote detailing JOI's (Hal's father's) filmography is really just a list of plot events in the main story; pretty much every subject that JOI makes a film about is really something that happens in the novel. This is a good place to go if you think that you missed something. Also important is the theoretical commentary on the nature of JOI's work. Don't forget that he pioneered a genre called "anticonfluential narrative" in which the separate strands of his subject's lives never converge into a satisfying conclusion (sound familiar?). Another hint to the book's structure is the prevalent discussion of annular fusion, a circular process that turns garbage into energy. The word annular (ring-shaped) is key. The book gets four stars instead of five because the characters are mostly flat and because even though the book was written only five years ago, parts of it already seem dated (like "teleputers" and "film cartridges" - c'mon, we have the Internet and DVDs). But David Foster Wallace deserves credit for writing a thousand-page book on the themes of entertainment and addiction that itself manages to be very addictive and very entertaining. The hilariousness of the U.S. being at war with Canada is reason enough to read this book.
Rating:
Summary: Infinite, yes--but that's at least part of the point
Review: I've read a number of reviews (both here and elsewhere) of this amazing book by David Foster Wallace, and I've yet to find one that finds in the novel what I've found. Most readers take away a sense of awe at what Wallace has accomplished, a sense of inferiority at the sheer volume of knowledge displayed, on subjects as diverse as tennis and higher math (yes, I know, tennis and higher math are intertwined, at least for Wallace, if not for me), and usually a sense of frustration at having the novel "not live up to its promise." That promise, apparently, is closure of some kind, or denouement. What readers seem to miss is that, at least at one level, this is a novel about addiction, to drugs, to entertainment, to voyeurism, and when you reach the end, after the unfortunate incident with Madame Psychosis (and besides Pynchon, who comes up with character--and other--names better than Wallace?), you realize that the prologue had something to do with this whole thing, kind of a flash-forward, and so you begin reading again, to find out what actually happened. If you're like me, you get the closure you were looking for, and then it hits you: This is a novel about addiction that quite literally addicts you. Infinite, yes--but that might be part (or all) of the point.
Rating:
Summary: Forget the length but not the brilliance.
Review: When I first heard about Infinite Jest, way back in early 1996, I thought to myself: "This sounds like my kind of book" as I have a taste for science fiction and satire. Being in Australia I found the book difficult to locate, and eventually bought it on a trip to the USA later that year. I didn't start reading it until I had finished my high school finals in 1997. It took me a year to read, which means I finished it late 1998-1999. During that period, and immediately after, I found myself buying a copy for all my friends' birthdays - I wanted to discuss all its complexities. To be sure Infinite Jest is an imperfect novel - but it is also an imperfect masterpiece. Its flaws are an essential component in its character; and yes, a large part of them can be attributed to its magnanimity. In the end its not the size that has left me so stunned. Its that two years after reading Infinite Jest I felt compelled to write a review. I still talk about the book with friends, I still think about it, I still find myself flicking through pages. I remember how a friend explained to me how Infinite Jest's chaotic structure was based upon the Eschaton differation that Wallace detailed in one of his footnotes [#123 to be precise] - at least that was his theory. I even thought about the novel when watching the recent Australian Open, and couldn't help but laugh. There is so much that is memorable within Infinite Jest: Wallace's linguistic gymnastics, his caricatures-come-characters, his wise observation of human folly, his maniacal sense of humour and irony, and his sheer intellectual ferocity. However, all these characteristics are present in varying degrees in his first novel, the Broom of the System. Infinite Jest I think is the better work for one reason - it has humanity. Somehow, despite the lurking misanthropy within its pages, Infinite Jest also has a heart. Its not content to merely condemn addiction, instead portraying addicts with empathy and sympathy. Afterall, addiction is a central human trait - at least in this modern age. Some scenes still make me cry after all this time. Infinite Jest is a hard slog, and not for everyone. For those who persevere it is amazingly rewarding. You will feel and think and talk and argue about it for a long time after reading. In an age of disposable culture Wallace has crafted an artwork that is nigh impossible to forget. That is Infinite Jest's genius.
Rating:
Summary: Flawed masterpiece...
Review: This is a work of epic scope and brave intentions that ultimately falls short of the promise of genius it contains. I could not fail to be impressed by the huge scale of the book, from the vast themes it covers to the minute detail of the footnotes, but these strengths are also the source of the books weakness. It is a fractured read, difficult to get a rhythm going as you are constantly flicking forward to read the footnotes (I recommend 2 bookmarks if you are tackling this!), and ultimately this makes the book frustrating - but I think that is exactly what DFW intended. Some episodes are beautifully written and hit the spot perfectly but others (as is probably inevitable in a book of this length) are poorly put together and read like teen angst writing. Nonetheless a remarkable achievement that is rewarding if frustrating.
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