Epistemographer

No, literally. David Foster Wallace met George Saunders tonight at the Public Theater for a several-hour discussion of fiction, writing and teaching sponsored by HousingWorks.¹

I decided to go (and convinced Jenny to come with me) based on my appreciation for Wallace’s prose – he’s one of my favorite writers, and reading A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again was a revelation to me as I realized that his writing sounded like the inside of my 20 year-old head (an experience that’s only happened a few other times, most notably when I read Douglas Coupland for the first time). In person, he didn’t disappoint, seeming just funny and genuine and like the sort of guy I’d have hung out with a lot in college.

As much as I enjoyed DFW’s end of the conversation, I have to say that George Saunders more than held his own, and I can’t believe that a writer who’s this smart and funny hasn’t crossed my radar. Like, ever. I left with the desire to go buy a few of his books and if he’s anywhere near as engaging in print as he is in person, I’ll be a happy reader.

Their conversation ranged across the landscape of writing, and I wouldn’t be able to do it justice here because I was so enthralled that it didn’t occur to me to take notes until about halfway through, at which point I realized that I didn’t have any paper on me anyways (and wasn’t feeling nearly dorky enough to crack open the laptop and start typing away). One thing that particularly struck me, however, was the fact that both of these guys have teaching gigs, Wallace at Pomona and Saunders at Syracuse, and they kept referring to their students and seminars throughout the two hours. It’s clear that teaching isn’t just a day job to either of them, but at the same time it wasn’t obvious exactly how central being a teacher was to either of their identities. Regardless, I have to admit that I’m thoroughly envious of any student who gets to take a seminar from either writer.

All in all, this was the best Q&A I’ve been to in years, on a par with the
Evening with Kevin Smith that I went to at Cornell. While both events suffered from the unavoidable “poser-who-wants-the-validation-of-the-famous-guy(s)” sort of questions, in both cases the sheer coolness of the people on stage triumphed in the end. Without a doubt, this was the best two hours waiting in line that I’ve spent in some time.²

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¹ This may be the most hyperlink-rich sentence I’ve ever written.
² Speaking of which, here’s an interesting question – I show up at 5:15 and there’s no line, just a bunch of people milling around in the lobby of the Public Theater. I walk up to the table that’s obviously set up to dispense tickets, and ask the two guys standing in front of it whether they’re in line for the Q&A. “Nope,” one says. Immediately, a woman nearby walks over, asks us if we’re in line. “Sure, why not?” says the other guy. “Yup, we’re the line, I guess,” I add. The woman stands behind us, and within ten seconds, the entire population of the lobby (maybe 30 people or so) has coalesced into a line behind her. Hence the question – at an event like this where free tickets are being given out, how many people does it take to form the nucleus for a line, tipping the crowd from chaos into order?

First things first – if anybody in Ithaca is looking for a bed, futon, or any number of other miscellaneous things, I’m selling some stuff in preparation for the move to DC. Let the shopping begin!

Been back in the country for about a week and a half, and haven’t managed to fire up Movable Type and start blogging again…I think that while I was away, I got out of the mindset of blogging, and it took the better part of two weeks for me to start to get that urge back. That said, I’ve got a bunch of half-written posts that I’ll try to polish off in the next few days (if nothing else, it keeps me writing, which is a good thing in and of itself), so stay tuned!

(Also, photo galleries of Ecuador and the Galapagos are on the way once I get the last batch of scanned pics back from RiteAid)

Well, my half-composed post on the various commencement speeches I’ve heard in the past two weeks will have to wait, because I’ve spent the past 24 hours in a frenzy of packing and apartment logistics. The good news is that I’ve got a backpack packed that’ll last me for the next two weeks, a camera bag that’s jammed with an absurd amount of equipment, and a lease signed on an apartment in DC.

It’s kind of crazy, really – just over 24 hours ago, I saw a post on Craigslist that fit Jenny’s and my ideal specs to a tee (with the exception of the need for street parking, which isn’t a deal-breaker). I sent an e-mail, the owner called within a few hours, we chatted. Today, Jenny and I asked our friend Vidya (our local apartment scout) to go check the place out around 8 pm, and in the meantime the apartment owner e-mailed us a copy of the lease and the co-op rules. Around 9 pm, Vidya called and said “It’s great. Take it.” And so we have.

Come July 15th, Jenny and I will officially be shacked up together in a large 1-bedroom apartment at the corner of 17th and Church, just off of Dupont Circle. We’ll be just about two blocks from the Red Line, seven blocks from the Orange Line, and three blocks from a Whole Foods.

That settled, we’ll be catching a plane to Quito this afternoon, where I’m bringing nothing but clothing, cameras, and a copy of Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle. See you in two weeks…

Massive amounts of work. Then, Jenny’s graduation. Then, more massive amounts of work. Finally, this past weekend, my own commencement at Cornell:

Not that I’ve actually defended, of course, but it’s close enough that Cornell let me walk in the commencement ceremony this year rather than wait until the next one. All told, I had one Girlfriend, one Mom, one Dad, one Father, one Father’s Wife, one Sister, one Sister’s Boyfriend, two Grandparents and two Quasi-In-Laws (Girlfriend’s Parents) in Ithaca for the weekend, which work out better and more smoothly than I could possibly have imagined.

More to come on graduation speeches, dissertation breakthroughs, and the irony that I’m traveling to another continent only to risk running into Donald Trump…at the moment, though, I need to run to buy a ton of film and a pair of trekking pants for my trip.