On my drive a few weeks ago to New Hampshire, I listened to Donald Antrim’s essay in The New Yorker about his hospitalization shortly before he published a memoir about his mother’s death. He was eventually treated with electroconvulsive therapy, partly at the urging of David Foster Wallace.
In this sticky August weekend, I’m reading that memoir, The Afterlife.
Here’s a line from this fiercely written book:
People are fond of saying that the truth will make you free. But what happens when the truth is not one simple, brutal thing?”— Donald Antrim