What if a hundred thousand humans dressed as trees and migrated to Washington? How about a “War on Christmas (Trees)”? Fleet-footed activists come out at night and spray the trees for sale on city streets with orange paint, recalling Agent Orange and disrupting wasteful tree farms.
If we lack for now the Great Syrian Novel, we may have to make do with Orthokostá and our ability to extrapolate from the Mediterranean country that gave us the word “chaos” to a more easterly Mediterranean country that now manifests it.
Hallberg has at least attempted the Great New York Novel, but Hallberg has placed too much trust in the throw-weight of his subject and his pages, so the “great” is less qualitative than quantitative.
The reality of David Foster Wallace’s life is minimized, if not quite evaded, by what the screenwriter and director omit or massage to keep The End of the Tour on a predictable narrative arc and a comfortable, mostly comic plane.