[...] For Wallace, his 1980s generation may have inherited plenty of spending power from their parents, but again, in the realm of moral values, the children have been left with "an inheritance of absolutely nothing," with useless credit. [...] "Westward" places "credit," a term of finance, in the plane of human relationships. The pedantic D.L., confronting the Avis agent, gets the point across: "'Though the credit is unlimited,' [D.L.] says slowly, 'it's not ours, you're saying. It's unlimited, but it's not about responsibility, and so in some deep car-rental agency sense" (and, Wallace suggests, deep moral-philosophical "agency" sense) "isn't really credit at all?" (GCH 274). As with the farmer's grain evoking the Depression's devaluation of currency, Wallace ingeniously strips money away, laying bare the questions of honoring not the credit card but the credibility of the persons themselves. In this context, we should regard Mark himself as living currency: his name plays on the German mark (famous for 1920s hyperinflation), and his climactic realizations center on ideas about the "self's coin" (GCH 369), seemingly the medium honored in the "living transaction" of Wallace's fiction.