IJ study archive

The Boston Novel

essay

The book Boston made

Infinite Jest is set in a lightly redrawn Boston because Wallace wrote it out of the couple of years he spent falling apart and getting sober there. He came east in 1989, in his late twenties, for a Harvard philosophy PhD (khan-wbur-empathy), and by his own 1996 account "tried it for a semester and realized I was too old to be in school" (bdcwire-dfw-boston). The real chronology, reconstructed from D.T. Max's biography, is grimmer than the graduate-school story lets on: a Somerville apartment shared with Mark Costello where he "would get high or drunk most nights"; Harvard's medical staff putting him "in an alcohol rehab and detox center" for liver problems; four weeks at McLean Hospital in Belmont, where staff told the 27-year-old he would be dead by thirty if he kept using; and then, discharged against his Harvard plans, a halfway house in Brighton (dtmax-every-love-story, ch. 5; the quoted phrases as reprinted in bdcwire-dfw-boston). That halfway house — Granada House, on the Brighton Marine Hospital grounds — is the model for Ennet House, and its director Deb Larson is fictionalized with affection as Pat Montesian (dtmax-every-love-story, ch. 5); Wallace lived there in 1989–90 (infinite-atlas-boston). Bill Lattanzi, who runs the Infinite Jest walking tour of the city, puts the transformation in a sentence Qainat Khan quotes: Wallace had learned all the intellectual things on "the metaphorical, Harvard side of his life," but in Brighton he "learned how to live" (khan-wbur-empathy).

The setting, in other words, is not a backdrop the novel borrowed but the ground it grew out of. Wallace was explicit that Boston was chosen for what he could learn there. On the alcohol side he told an interviewer that "Boston AA is very strange and unique," full of open meetings that let a non-member sit in — "which means I could go and sit and take notes" — and that the city had "9 or 10 halfway house facilities" that "would more or less let you walk in and lurk" (bdcwire-dfw-boston). The road-trip transcript gives the residential version of the same fact, less touristic: "There were twelve halfway houses in Boston, three of which I spent hundreds of hours at" (lipsky-becoming-yourself, ch. 28). The book's Boston is a research site and a place he actually lived, and the two are not easily separated — an entanglement that is the biography's whole subject and stays there (dtmax-every-love-story).

The map on the page

What Wallace built on that ground is startlingly literal. William Beutler's Infinite Atlas set out to put every location in the novel on a real map — more than six hundred entries — on the working assumption that nearly every place named is a real, fictionalized, or locatable spot, and mostly it holds (infinite-atlas-boston). The Ennet House world sits inside a one-mile radius of real Allston-Brighton: Enfield Marine Public Health Hospital is the Brighton Marine Health Center; Ennet House is Granada House; the flattened hilltop of Enfield Tennis Academy is composited from Fidelis Way Park and St. Gabriel's Monastery, whose grounds overlook Harvard's spires across the Charles — the campus Wallace had left weeks before Granada House (paraphrased from audio, gc-ep036-beutler-lattanzi-ij-boston). The Father & Son Market where Avril buys her cigarettes is a real store Beutler walked into; the Antitoi brothers' shop sits near the office of Cultural Survival, which Wallace — who lived in Inman Square — walked past daily; the ravine at Enfield Marine is a real seven-foot drop to a brick wall, far below its read size (all paraphrased from audio, same source). Even the joke names are transplants: the Universal Bleacher Co., listed as an Enfield business, was a real company in Urbana, Illinois — a childhood-environment name carried whole to Massachusetts (same source).

The one wholesale invention is the township itself. There is no Enfield in metro Boston; Wallace spliced a fictional neighborhood into real Allston-Brighton and gave it the topographic essay that opens the academy's world — a mock-civic survey of "a township composed almost entirely of medical, corporate, and spiritual facilities", shaped, in the novel's own conceit, like a limb: "A kind of arm-shape extending north from Commonwealth Avenue and separating Brighton into Upper and Lower, its elbow nudging East Newton’s ribs and its fist sunk into Allston" (scene 063, pp. 240-242). The passage reads like a gazetteer, and most of its landmarks are checkable — St. Elizabeth's Hospital, Franciscan Children's Hospital, Commonwealth Avenue's climb out of Lower Brighton, the Green Line's quarter-hourly grind up the Ave. to Boston College, the sun setting behind the last rise of the April Marathon's Heartbreak Hill — with the invented institutions (the academy, the Empire Waste Displacement catapults) grafted in among them so smoothly the reader has to know Boston to feel the seam.

The name "Enfield" carries the book's darkest local joke. There was a real Enfield, Massachusetts — a town near Amherst, where Wallace went to college, that was drowned in the 1930s to make the Quabbin Reservoir, its dead exhumed and reburied, "darkly appropriate for a novel that is partly about the returning dead" (walsh-american-hamlet-thesis-2014, quoting Burn). Wallace named the fictional township for an erased real one, and in 1996 he as much as said so, if allusively: "I like to sort of mess with maps a little bit. Part of the book is about messing with maps, so I sort of reconfigured the Allston, Brighton, Newton area a little bit and stuck this town in that was, it was actually the name of a town close to where I went to college which was inundated for a reservoir" (bdcwire-dfw-boston). The buried town's name marks the one spot on the map that is fiction all the way down.

The rooms

Boston is on the page most convincingly in its AA. Wallace's stated reason for setting the book there — that Boston AA is unlike AA anywhere else — is reproduced almost verbatim as the novel's own claim: "Boston AA is like AA nowhere else on this planet" (scene 074, pp. 343-367). The White Flag chapters then anatomize the specific institution he described in interviews: the speaker meetings, the Commitments where one Group travels across the city to speak at another's meeting and trades the visit back, the coffee urns and raffle tickets and the host who "just sit[s] there and listen[s]" (same scene). This is the walk-in, open-meeting world Wallace said let him "go and sit and take notes" (bdcwire-dfw-boston) — transcribed back into fiction with a fidelity readers keep recognizing.

Khan's twentieth-anniversary essay is a clean specimen: she reads Geoffrey Day's arrival at the halfway house "called Ennet House in the book", his scorn for the AA clichés, and the answer she quotes from the book — that the "clichéd directives are a lot more deep and hard to actually do" — straight against Wallace's Brighton biography — where, per Lattanzi, the halfway-house residents "were really smart and they knew a lot about life", and Wallace "learned how to live" (khan-wbur-empathy). For Khan the map of the recovery world is exact enough to carry her from the page to Boston's actual opioid crisis; "reading this novel changed my life," she writes, meaning in part that the fictional city taught her something usable about the real one. The question of whether the AA material works as recovery — the cliché pedagogy, the politics of who gets to recover — is the business of addiction-and-recovery; what this note records is narrower and sturdier: the rooms are Boston's, drawn from the inside.

Messing with maps: the cipher question

If the map is that real, is it also a code? Two readers who spent years on the ground each set out to break one and each came back empty. Beutler, building the Atlas, and Lattanzi, building the tour, both arrived as would-be cipher-hunters — Lattanzi tracing routes like Lenz's night walk to find a hidden geographic message — and both independently concluded there is none: the street patterns are working aids, a mountain climber's pitons for the climb rather than a buried text (paraphrased from audio, gc-ep036-beutler-lattanzi-ij-boston). On the strength of that two-witness negative the hidden Boston-geography cipher stands rejected — a negative kept on record rather than argued to a graded verdict, because nobody has ever actually brought a cipher case against the text worth grading.

The author's own words point the same way, and it matters that they cut against a code rather than toward one. Wallace's "messing with maps" statement confirms deliberate reconfiguration — he moved the Allston-Brighton-Newton geography around and slotted in a drowned town's name — but deliberate is not the same as encoded. He was reshaping a real place for a fiction, not writing a puzzle into the streets. (The datum is worth citing precisely because it is tempting to over-read: a novelist saying he "mess[ed] with maps" sounds like a confession of hidden design, and is in fact the opposite — a description of craft, sibling to his Bookworm remark that his structural devices are pitons, aids to be climbed and forgotten.) The honest split, then, is clean: the map is real and deliberately drawn, and the cipher is not there — rejected by both of the readers who went to the ground to hunt for one. That the two can be confused is itself the novel's governing preoccupation, worked out where it belongs — the difference between a representation and a secret territory is maps-territory's subject, and the mappers who stood at the real sites and found the territory no longer matched the map they had drawn of it lived out that theme in the field (paraphrased from audio, gc-ep036-beutler-lattanzi-ij-boston).

One reconfiguration is bigger than the city: the Great Concavity, the redrawn continental waste sink whose Empire Waste Displacement catapults appear in the Enfield gazetteer itself, flinging waste-vehicles north out of Enfield's "brachiform incursion into the Allston Spur" (scene 063, pp. 240-242). The politics of that cartographic revision — territory ceded north, kept as a waste function — is nationalism-onan's ground. The rest of Boston, Ryan Walsh writes, the novel makes permanently strange: "one cannot read “Infinite Jest” and ever look at the city of Boston in the same way ever again" (bdcwire-dfw-boston).

Sources

  • bdcwire-dfw-boston — Ryan Walsh's 2014 piece carrying the 1996 Christopher Lydon WBUR interview: Wallace's "messing with maps" / drowned-town statement, the Boston-AA-and-halfway-house rationale ("go and sit and take notes"), Lydon's "Bostonian novel" framing, and the "look at the city of Boston in the same way" line. The Wallace/Lydon quotes are Walsh's print transcription of the tape, quoted here as printed rather than checked against the audio.
  • dtmax-every-love-story — the biographical spine: Somerville, Harvard health services, McLean, the Brighton halfway house; Granada House = Ennet House, Deb Larson = Pat Montesian.
  • khan-wbur-empathy — the twentieth-anniversary reader-transformation essay; Lattanzi's "in Brighton he learned how to live", the Ennet House / Geoffrey Day reading, "reading this novel changed my life".
  • lipsky-becoming-yourself — the 1996 road-trip transcript; "twelve halfway houses in Boston, three of which I spent hundreds of hours at."
  • infinite-atlas-boston — the cartography project; Enfield = Allston-Brighton, Ennet = Granada, ETA = Fidelis Way site, the one-mile clustering of real models.
  • gc-ep036-beutler-lattanzi-ij-boston — the mappers' oral history: the composite ETA hilltop, Father & Son Market, the Antitoi/Cultural Survival siting, the Universal Bleacher transplant, the seven-foot ravine, and the two-witness rejection of a hidden geographic code. (Audio: paraphrase only.)
  • walsh-american-hamlet-thesis-2014 — James Jason Walsh's 2014 Cleveland State thesis (a different Walsh from the piece above); the Enfield/Quabbin reburial ground-fact (quoting Burn): a real Massachusetts town drowned for a reservoir, its dead exhumed and reburied.
  • maps-territory — the map/territory theme the mappers lived out; the cipher rejection's settled standing.
  • addiction-and-recovery — the AA material as content and recovery pedagogy (this note owns it only as Boston fact).
  • nationalism-onan — the Great Concavity's cartographic politics.

The novel's own topographic and White Flag passages are page-cited above; the map/territory anthology gathers the demapping language (the maps-territory passage anthology).