The Pale King

What to say? Fifty fragments: unintegrated, contradicting, only sometimes amazing. Themes you’d expect: self-consciousness, freedom, duty, routine - the awful effect of unconstrained self-consciousness, freedom, duty and routine - the death of American civics - ‘the horror of personal smallness and transience’ - the repugnance we feel for pure virtue - the extraordinary fires alight beneath some people. But where in Jest these were expressed through (burdened with) drug slang, pharmacology, advertising dreck, and calculus, here we get accountancy minutiae surely intended to repulse us. Yet the style is far less mannered than his finished work, which style we might call Postdoc Valleyspeak. The reason for this public ignorance is not secrecy. The real reason why US citizens were/are not aware of these conflicts, changes and stakes is that the whole subject of tax policy and administration is dull. Massively, spectacularly dull. It is impossible to overstate the importance of this feature. Consider, from the Service’s perspective, the advantages of the dull, the arcane, the mind-numbingly complex. The IRS was one of the very first government agencies to learn that such qualities help to insulate them against public protest and political opposition, and that abstruse dullness is actually a much more effective shield than is secrecy. For the great disadvantage of secrecy is that it’s interesting. Institutional tedium – the default state for developed-world adults – is profoundly important to address, a topic it will take an unusual mind to illuminate for us. But Pale King is actually not a Kafkan tale of the ever-growing horror of bureaucracy; actually he is deeply impressed and convinced of the value of the people and the work of the IRS, in large part because of its inhumane strictures, lack of glory, and unpopularity. "Big Q is whether IRS is to be essentially a corporate entity or a moral one." (Though if ‘corporate’ is there read merely as meaning ‘maximising’, the distinction can be misleading.) To me, the really interesting question is why dullness proves to be such a powerful impediment to attention. Why we recoil from the dull. Maybe it’s because dullness is intrinsically painful; maybe that’s where phrases like ‘deadly dull’ and ‘excruciatingly dull’ come from. But there might be more to it. Maybe dullness is associated with psychic pain because something that’s dull fails to provide enough stimulation to distract people from some other, deeper type of pain that is always there, if only in an ambient low-level way… I can’t think anyone really believes that today’s so-called ‘information society’ is just about information. Everyone knows it’s about something else, way down. I tried to read them as short stories rather than chapters. This half-works. Actually the entire book was intentionally fruitless – the major agonists all off-stage, everyone else just enduring. A couple of intentionally unconvincing first-person authorial inserts – “I, David Wallace, social security no…” – affirm the reality of the garish IRS underbelly he fabricates, put him in the scene. Fragment #8 is a horrifying Cormac McCarthy lyric, childhood psychosis. One (#22) is a hundred-page monologue, the character repetitive, rambling and conceited, but also the most developed and affecting. Of this wreckage we are given to read. What to say? That you’d have to love this writing to like it, that you should.

I was actually really ready to not like this but It’s pretty incredible, imo. To the point where I will sit with it and right something long form about it because there’s a lot to unpack. Which is wild if you think about it because it’s not even actually in it’s finished form. I usually hate things without a plot clipping along nicely and this is more like you’re wandering around with a flashlight illuminating random things that are interconnected but the plot isn’t really anywhere in sight. Yet I’m not sure I’ve been provoked to think about multiple subjects more than this book, with it’s weird, kind of lynchian approach.

Ok, I'm going to rate this book as it exists right now (more a 2.5 than a 2). From the story notes at the end of the book describing where a plot might have formed, this seems like it would be a much better book, were it finished. If you're considering reading a tome by DFW, I would say either a) read Infinite Jest instead or b) read the notes at the end of the book first. Yeah, they'll kinda be spoilers, but they'll be spoilers for things that never happen, and you'll have a better context for how to read as you go along (unfinished for DFW doesn't mean "missing chapters at the end", it means going back through the whole book to add and revise major points). I wish I could have read the final product. RIP, DFW.

I don't know how I feel about this book. It was mind numbingly, dull but thats also kind of the point of the book. So i hate it for being so boring, but the author did a good job for what he set out for it to be, a long, drawn out and mundane tale of IRS workers. It does provoke some deep thoughts about life in general, but its still painfully dull, but it is also unfinished so maybe if it was completed the payoff from the book would of felt better.