The Pale King
In David Foster Wallace鈥檚 The Pale King, in a mock documentary, a tax examiner identified only by his ID number tells the viewer about his idea for a play, in which a 鈥渨iggler鈥� is poring over 1040s: 鈥淭he setting is very bare and minimalistic 鈥� there鈥檚 nothing to look at except this wiggler, who doesn鈥檛 move except every so often turning a page or making a note on his pad.鈥� The audience, he says, will grow restless and bored. 鈥淭hen, once the audience have all left, the real action of the play can start.... Except I could never decide on the action, if there was any.鈥�
A wiggler is a rote examiner who studies tax returns to determine which are worthy of an audit, Wallace tells us in his posthumous novel scheduled for release on tax day.
At the Regional Examination Center (REC) in Peoria, Illinois, in May 1985, a fictional Wallace joins his fellow GS-9 IRS recruits for an intake training session, where he learns from the veterans that the work will require periodic flexing, visualizing, and a necessary bearing down.
Reading 鈥淭he Pale King鈥� requires precisely this kind of close examination 鈥� a sort of literary audit, but a worthy one at that.
Wallace worked on this novel the last 11 years of his life, until his untimely death in 2008, when he took his life. Author of the novels 鈥�Infinite Jest,鈥� 鈥�Broom of the System,鈥� and short story and essay collections, Wallace left behind hundreds of pages and notes for 鈥淭he Pale King,鈥� which editors spent two years piecing together. Without an outline, 鈥淚nfinite Jest鈥� editor Michael Pietsch crafted the storyline, such as it is, based on his experience working with Wallace, drawing together fully revised and rough-draft chapters, handwritten in Wallace鈥檚 tiny writing.
Is this the book Wallace would have written if he鈥檇 lived to finish it? Of course, we will never know. But it does allow us, as Pietsch hoped, 鈥渢o look once more inside that beautiful mind.鈥�
Most writers try to disguise their research, or blend it in so it doesn鈥檛 stick out. But Wallace鈥檚 research is the book, and not simply because it is unfinished. He doesn鈥檛 hide it, nor would we want him to because the world he creates with it is so colossally fascinating.
The book has been called 鈥渕ock memoir鈥�; Wallace called it 鈥渧ocational memoir.鈥� But I鈥檇 call it 鈥渇ictional ethnography,鈥� a recounting of the work, lives, and lore of the men and women of 鈥渢he Service,鈥� as they struggle to make the unbearable bearable.
In writing about boredom 鈥� about the mind-numbing capacity of numbers and auditing and taxation 鈥� might Wallace have inadvertently produced a book that is, in fact, boring?
Most definitely not. The miracle is that Wallace created a book of genius proportion out of something proportionally so uninteresting.
But then again David Foster Wallace could write a book about doorknobs and make it interesting.
鈥淭o be, in a word, unborable.... It is the key to modern life. If you are immune to boredom, there is literally nothing you cannot accomplish,鈥� writes Wallace, in this book that鈥檚 every bit as brilliant and daring as 鈥淚nfinite Jest,鈥� with a deftness and maturity of writing that exceed it.
In 鈥淚nfinite Jest鈥� we see the addictive nature of entertainment; here we see the effects of lack of entertainment or distraction. But in this cast of intricately drawn characters Wallace offers up the rare administrator, Glendenning 鈥� dubbed by his co-workers 鈥渢he pale king鈥� 鈥� whom everyone likes and who seems 鈥渘ot so much to subvert the stereotypes as to transcend them.鈥�
In turns satiric and sad, thought-provoking and funny, 鈥淭he Pale King鈥� is ultimately a compassionate view of the individuals who make up the IRS, the institution we have all grown to hate. It鈥檚 awe-inspiring that David Foster Wallace, one of the greatest writers and social critics of our time, should make the IRS the subject of his final novel, and that a man for whom no institution was sacred, in essence found the sacred in human beings struggling to survive that institution: the machinations, the promotions, the fear of demotion, the craziness, and paleness that it breeds, along with the humor. Pages turned endlessly, workers taught to clinch their bottoms to avoid discomfort, tedium tolerated to support a child, and yes, in the face of all this, contemplation of suicide.
There is every reason to believe that Wallace struggled with his own boredom 鈥� (show me a writer who doesn鈥檛) 鈥� but in his infinite generosity, he also shows us how to lift ourselves above it.
Alicia J. Rouverol is co-author of 鈥� 鈥業 Was Content and Not Content鈥�: The Story of Linda Lord and the Closing of Penobscot Poultry.鈥� She is on staff at Narrative Magazine in San Francisco.
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