Scaling Another Wall

Every now and then, reading through Infinite Jest, you'll come across chapters of similar make.

Specifically, you'll come across chapters that are made up of walls of text with minimal punctuation and virtually no paragraphing. These are a rattling take on the dramatic monologue form, wherein one character alone is focused on and everything in the chapter is from their perspective. There are no other speakers, no other actors, no other thinkers.

Most recently, I came across the dramatic monologue of James Incandenza's father (Hal's grandfather). It takes place on a Tucson morning, where James' father is trying to tell him about the zen of bodily respect as a way of introducing him to tennis. It's long and it's winding, but because it's only got two characters (one of whom we've never seen before, and one whom we've never seen as a child before) it's quick enough to follow.

The story that James' father weaves is one of great interest, too. To sum it up, his hurried delivery and air of importance comes from his fear of dying and winding up with a tombstone that reads "Here lies a promising old man." The importance of being noticed, of having his potential actuated and recognized is really underscored by the duality between body and potential he very obviously believes in. He spends quite a few words expounding upon it via a diatribe about 1950s Marlon Brando's practiced slobbishness, after all.

Plus, from the way that he describes James, it sounds like Mario didn't fall quite so far from the tree as it's seemed up to this point in the book.

James Incandenza had a big head, long skinny hands, and was 5'11'' when he was 10. Mario's not physically different in the same way, but the love of optical physics and other physical weirdnesses are well within the ken of James Incandenza's potential children.