This book is powerful for any Wallace fan simply because of the length of time we’re allowed to spend with the dead genius, listening directly to his words as transcribed from tapes by then Rolling Stone journalist David Lipsky. Yes, there is a movie now, and they probably Hollywoodified things and thereby screwed them up royally, but the trailer for the movie should, really, whet your biblio-appetite for this book. It is one of those reads that keeps you wanting to come back to it after you have to put it down to go to bed, or feed the dogs, or go to work.
But the part about the pink room with no furniture and a drain in the middle of it may—MAY—just break your heart, if you have a heart. And if it is at all breakable, which yours may not be. Yours may be made of solid cement, in which case, bully for you.
THE END OF THE TOUR (based on this book) stars Jesse Eisenberg and the guy from HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER. No, not him, not the main one. The other one. Yeah, the tall, weird, neurotic lawyer guy. I know. They did, totally, drink way too many beers on that show for them to be functional, non-dead-broke, good-looking humans. But still. It wasn’t altogether horrible, right? And what about that ending?