Infinite Jest

I finished Open, the autobiography of Andre Agassi. The revelations hyped by the press about his fake hairpiece and his crystal meth use were shocking prior to the book's publication, but within the context of his story, they made sense. He suggests that he has written the book for his children more than anyone else, and I think this also gives an indication of why he wanted to be what he calls "entirely honest." Maybe one day his children will wonder why he stopped wearing underwear during matches? Though I am fascinated by what goes on in the minds of elite athletes, I can say I never wished to know the story behind that, but now I now anyway.

There is a lot to be learned from Andre's story. My favorite moments were the ones he spent with his trainer and surrogate father, Gil. I think these were his favorite moments, too (at least, until "Stefanie" Graf agreed to start seeing him). At one point, Gil gives him advice that gets at why I am drawn to distance running and why I push myself so hard in school, so I'll excerpt that portion here:

But dreams, I tell Gil, in one of our quiet moments, are so damned tiring.

He laughs.

I can't promise you that you won't be tired, he says. But please know this. There's a lot of good waiting for you on the other side of tired. Get yourself tired, Andre. That's where you're going to know yourself. On the other side of tired. (155, my emphasis)

Andre seems to remember the minute details of everything, which makes the book better than a lot of autobiographies I've read. The story of his life is intriguing even if you are not particularly interested in the act of writing an autobiography. I am particularly interested in the idea of the autobiography, though, so that made the reading of the book a critical adventure, as well.

We all learned in school that an autobiography is the story of someone's life, told by himself. This raises so many questions, though. How does one decide what to say and what not to say? How does one choose to represent oneself? Charlotte Perkins Gilman's autobiography directly contradicts her personal journal and letters-- frequently. She clearly constructed a representation of herself that was not wholly accurate in order to serve her polemical purposes. S.S. McClure's "autobiography" was actually written by Willa Cather, and it conveniently fails to mention that he has lost creative control of his magazine. His autobiography reads like an article designed to encourage other people that they too can "make it" in America, when really, it may have also been designed to encourage him that he could make it back to the top. The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas is actually written by Gertrude Stein, and in this book (novel? how do we categorize these things?), Stein not only ventriloquizes Toklas's "voice" but also constructs a representation of herself as someone who "wants readers not collectors," who "wants her books to be read" (245), despite their reputation for being imperceptible to a popular audience. I see what you're doing, Ms. Stein. One hundred years ago you were exploiting the possibilities of autobiography and posing questions about the genre that continue to fascinate me now.

The other reason I am particularly interested in autobiographies is because writing them is my dream job. Unfortunately, my life is not interesting enough to attract a widespread audience, but I feel like ghostwriting the autobiographies of others would give me the opportunity to combine my love of writing and my interest in celebrity culture. I'm always interested to learn about how celebrities choose the writers with whom they want to work. Agassi's autobiography doesn't list a ghostwriter. It's well-written, so I was baffled-- Agassi is a 9th grade dropout! I was relieved, however, when he explained in the acknowledgments that he worked with JR Moehringer to write the book. He chose Moehringer because he loved The Tender Bar, but when they went to publish, Moehringer said the story was Agassi's and therefore should only bear his name. So, in this case, you get to be a ghostwriter if you graduate from Yale, start writing for The New York Times, move to the Los Angeles Times, win a Pulitzer Prize, and write a memoir about your tumultuous childhood that a famous person loves. Ugh. I am a long way from there. But this is 2010-- maybe Andy Roddick will discover me on twitter.

Speaking of Mr. Roddick, after a several month hiatus after a knee injury, he began the 2010 season by winning a title in Brisbane! Last year, despite playing some of his best tennis, he only won one title, so here's to hoping this year will be more successful. In the other tournament this week, Davydenko beat both Nadal and Federer to win the title, and I am excited about his prospects, too. He won the year-end tournament in November, so I am hoping 2010 could be the year he breaks through. If that isn't exciting enough, both Kim Clijsters and the newly-unretired Justine Henin played a great match in the final, with Clijsters coming out on top. I hope their rivalry gets hot again this year. Is it time for the Australian Open yet?!

In other completely unrelated but even more exciting news, Clara is going to be a big sister!

(Infinite Jest takes place, in part, inside a tennis academy that I believe was inspired by the Nick Bollettieri Tennis Academy, where Agassi trained/"studied." I would love to read it. Why, David Foster Wallace, does it have to be 1104 pages long?! When will I ever have time to commit to this undertaking?)