Essay Collection: A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again
Overview
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again (1997) gathers a set of long, ambitious essays that move between cultural criticism, reportage, and memoir. The pieces are immersive first-person journeys that take small, specific experiences, a week on a luxury cruise, a youth tennis tournament, close viewings of films, and expand them into wide-ranging reflections on American entertainment, attention, and the costs of contemporary comfort. David Foster Wallace mixes rigorous observation with a conversational, often self-mocking voice that makes tricky philosophical points feel immediate and lived.
Each essay combines close, sometimes forensic description with energetic digression. The book's tone shifts from blistering irony to surprising earnestness, and Wallace repeatedly returns to questions about what it means to be both a consumer and a moral subject in late-20th-century America. The result is criticism that reads as narrative and reportage that feels like a confession.
Notable Essays
The title essay chronicles a luxury cruise and uses the trip as a lens on commodified pleasure, enforced sociability, and the strange loneliness of leisure. The cruise becomes a microcosm in which rituals of entertainment, excess, and the maintenance of mood reveal deeper anxieties about authenticity and selfhood. Wallace's attention to small details, staff choreography, stage banter, architectural design, turns the spectacle into a study of how modern comfort can isolate rather than soothe.
"E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction" is a sharp, essayistic polemic about how television's saturation of irony and self-reference reshaped American literary sensibilities. Wallace argues that fiction became reflexively cool and postmodernly ironic in response to TV's cultural dominance, and he calls for a renewed seriousness and emotional risk-taking in contemporary writing. "Derivative Sport in Tornado Alley" begins as a reportage piece about junior tennis and becomes an extended meditation on competition, boredom, and the social structures that produce both achievement and melancholy.
Other pieces turn to film and popular culture with similar inquisitiveness. The essay on David Lynch reads the director's surrealism and dislocations with a mixture of close reading and sympathetic puzzlement, treating aesthetic strangeness as a sign of emotional urgency rather than mere stylistic trickery. Across the collection, disparate subjects are linked by a shared insistence on examining how entertainment shapes interior life.
Style and Themes
Wallace's prose is characterized by digressive energy, encyclopedic detail, and an appetite for syntactic complexity. Parenthetical asides, footnote-like expansions, and long, breathless sentences create a conversational virtuosity that mimics thought in motion. That style is not ornament: it models attentiveness while also dramatizing the very cognitive overload that many essays diagnose.
Recurring themes include boredom and its opposite, the ethics of entertainment, the limitations of irony, and the yearning for sincerity. Wallace insists that contemporary culture's reflexive detachment often stands in for feeling, and he explores how mass-mediated pleasures can leave people spiritually unmoored. Yet the writing is also tenderly human; Wallace repeatedly examines how loneliness, shame, and desire operate beneath public performance.
Reception and Influence
The collection helped cement Wallace's reputation as one of the most original essayists of his generation, praised for both intelligence and verbal daring. Critics lauded the book's range and the moral seriousness that undergirded its humor; some readers found the prose exhausting or indulgent, but few denied its inventiveness. The essays have been widely anthologized and continue to be central texts in discussions of late-20th-century American nonfiction.
Over time, the collection's blend of personal immersion and cultural critique has influenced a generation of writers interested in narrative nonfiction that is both self-reflexive and ethically engaged. The demand for a literature capable of sincere feeling without naive affirmation remains one of the book's lasting provocations.
Why Read It
The essays offer a model of criticism that is alive to detail, skeptical of easy judgments, and committed to feeling alongside thinking. Readers who enjoy intelligence delivered with humor, formal daring, and moral curiosity will find the collection rewarding. The book not only illuminates particular cultural objects but also invites sustained reflection on how entertainment shapes inner life.
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again (1997) gathers a set of long, ambitious essays that move between cultural criticism, reportage, and memoir. The pieces are immersive first-person journeys that take small, specific experiences, a week on a luxury cruise, a youth tennis tournament, close viewings of films, and expand them into wide-ranging reflections on American entertainment, attention, and the costs of contemporary comfort. David Foster Wallace mixes rigorous observation with a conversational, often self-mocking voice that makes tricky philosophical points feel immediate and lived.
Each essay combines close, sometimes forensic description with energetic digression. The book's tone shifts from blistering irony to surprising earnestness, and Wallace repeatedly returns to questions about what it means to be both a consumer and a moral subject in late-20th-century America. The result is criticism that reads as narrative and reportage that feels like a confession.
Notable Essays
The title essay chronicles a luxury cruise and uses the trip as a lens on commodified pleasure, enforced sociability, and the strange loneliness of leisure. The cruise becomes a microcosm in which rituals of entertainment, excess, and the maintenance of mood reveal deeper anxieties about authenticity and selfhood. Wallace's attention to small details, staff choreography, stage banter, architectural design, turns the spectacle into a study of how modern comfort can isolate rather than soothe.
"E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction" is a sharp, essayistic polemic about how television's saturation of irony and self-reference reshaped American literary sensibilities. Wallace argues that fiction became reflexively cool and postmodernly ironic in response to TV's cultural dominance, and he calls for a renewed seriousness and emotional risk-taking in contemporary writing. "Derivative Sport in Tornado Alley" begins as a reportage piece about junior tennis and becomes an extended meditation on competition, boredom, and the social structures that produce both achievement and melancholy.
Other pieces turn to film and popular culture with similar inquisitiveness. The essay on David Lynch reads the director's surrealism and dislocations with a mixture of close reading and sympathetic puzzlement, treating aesthetic strangeness as a sign of emotional urgency rather than mere stylistic trickery. Across the collection, disparate subjects are linked by a shared insistence on examining how entertainment shapes interior life.
Style and Themes
Wallace's prose is characterized by digressive energy, encyclopedic detail, and an appetite for syntactic complexity. Parenthetical asides, footnote-like expansions, and long, breathless sentences create a conversational virtuosity that mimics thought in motion. That style is not ornament: it models attentiveness while also dramatizing the very cognitive overload that many essays diagnose.
Recurring themes include boredom and its opposite, the ethics of entertainment, the limitations of irony, and the yearning for sincerity. Wallace insists that contemporary culture's reflexive detachment often stands in for feeling, and he explores how mass-mediated pleasures can leave people spiritually unmoored. Yet the writing is also tenderly human; Wallace repeatedly examines how loneliness, shame, and desire operate beneath public performance.
Reception and Influence
The collection helped cement Wallace's reputation as one of the most original essayists of his generation, praised for both intelligence and verbal daring. Critics lauded the book's range and the moral seriousness that undergirded its humor; some readers found the prose exhausting or indulgent, but few denied its inventiveness. The essays have been widely anthologized and continue to be central texts in discussions of late-20th-century American nonfiction.
Over time, the collection's blend of personal immersion and cultural critique has influenced a generation of writers interested in narrative nonfiction that is both self-reflexive and ethically engaged. The demand for a literature capable of sincere feeling without naive affirmation remains one of the book's lasting provocations.
Why Read It
The essays offer a model of criticism that is alive to detail, skeptical of easy judgments, and committed to feeling alongside thinking. Readers who enjoy intelligence delivered with humor, formal daring, and moral curiosity will find the collection rewarding. The book not only illuminates particular cultural objects but also invites sustained reflection on how entertainment shapes inner life.
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again
A collection of essays discussing various topics like television, tennis, and David Lynch's films.
- Publication Year: 1997
- Type: Essay Collection
- Genre: Essays, Non-Fiction
- Language: English
- View all works by David Foster Wallace on Amazon
Author: David Foster Wallace

More about David Foster Wallace
- Occup.: Writer
- From: USA
- Other works:
- The Broom of the System (1987 Novel)
- Girl with Curious Hair (1989 Short Story Collection)
- Infinite Jest (1996 Novel)
- Brief Interviews with Hideous Men (1999 Short Story Collection)
- Oblivion (2004 Short Story Collection)
- Consider the Lobster (2005 Essay Collection)
- The Pale King (2011 Novel)
- Both Flesh and Not (2012 Essay Collection)