Welcome to Bookmarker!

This is a personal project by @dellsystem. I built this to help me retain information from the books I'm reading. Currently can only be used by a single user (myself), but I plan to extend it to support multiple users eventually.

Source code on GitHub (MIT license).

175

11

1990

2
terms
7
notes

Andy leaves Mindy; Rick tells Lenore a story about a man who falls in love with a woman a toad in her neck (she dies); John LaVache is revealed to think of himself as a game show contestant; Lenore and Rick arrive at Amherst; Rick tells the story of his first and only attempt at approaching a woman (Janet) at a hors d'oeuvre bar, which ended with a Ritz cracker and bologna landing on Janet's nose; Lenore watches LaVache support his leg; Rick meets Andy Lang at The Flange, which is now a gay bar, and discovers Andy's coincidental experience on Corfu; LaVache shows Lenore the drawing of a man climbing a slope.

Foster Wallace, D. (2004). 11. In Foster Wallace, D. The Broom of the System. Penguin Books, pp. 175-256

195

"I almost attacked him on the spot. I just had no idea where to begin hitting. He's much larger than he was a week ago."

Rick telling Lenore about Norman claiming to be in love with her

—p.195 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

"I almost attacked him on the spot. I just had no idea where to begin hitting. He's much larger than he was a week ago."

Rick telling Lenore about Norman claiming to be in love with her

—p.195 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago
206

[...] an ocean into which this particular seal was going to pour a strong (hopefully unitary) stream of his own presence, to prove that he still is, and so was [...]

Rick referring to himself as a seal for some reason. (see note 576)

—p.206 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

[...] an ocean into which this particular seal was going to pour a strong (hopefully unitary) stream of his own presence, to prove that he still is, and so was [...]

Rick referring to himself as a seal for some reason. (see note 576)

—p.206 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago
208

[...] In the girls' faces I see softness, beauty, the shiny and relaxed eyes of wealth, and the vital capacity for creating problems where none exist. For some reason I see these girls also older, pale television ghosts flickering behind the originals: middle-aged women, with bright-red fingernails and deeply tanned, hard, seamed faces, sprayed hair shaped by the professional fingers of men with French names; and eyes, eyes that will stare without pity or doubt over salted tequila rims at the glare of the summer sun off the country club pool. [...] The boys [...] I see so many calm, impassive, and cheerful faces, faces at peace, for now and always, with the context of their own appearance and being, that sort of long-term peace and smooth acquaintance with invariable destiny that renders the faces bloodlessly pastable onto cut-outs of corporate directors in oak-lined boardrooms, professors with plaid ties and leather patches at the elbows of their sport jackets, doctors on bright putting greens with heavy gold shock-resistant watches at their wrists and tiny beepers at their belts [...]

Rick at Amherst

—p.208 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

[...] In the girls' faces I see softness, beauty, the shiny and relaxed eyes of wealth, and the vital capacity for creating problems where none exist. For some reason I see these girls also older, pale television ghosts flickering behind the originals: middle-aged women, with bright-red fingernails and deeply tanned, hard, seamed faces, sprayed hair shaped by the professional fingers of men with French names; and eyes, eyes that will stare without pity or doubt over salted tequila rims at the glare of the summer sun off the country club pool. [...] The boys [...] I see so many calm, impassive, and cheerful faces, faces at peace, for now and always, with the context of their own appearance and being, that sort of long-term peace and smooth acquaintance with invariable destiny that renders the faces bloodlessly pastable onto cut-outs of corporate directors in oak-lined boardrooms, professors with plaid ties and leather patches at the elbows of their sport jackets, doctors on bright putting greens with heavy gold shock-resistant watches at their wrists and tiny beepers at their belts [...]

Rick at Amherst

—p.208 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago
211

[...] as I opened my mouth there somehow flew out of my mouth an enormous glob of the chewed hors d'oeuvre, the Ritz cracker and bologna, chewed, with saliva on it, with shocking force, and it flew out and landed on the fleshy part of Janet Dibdin's nose, and stayed there. And the friends were blasted into silence, and the rest of the hors d'oeuvre in my mouth turned to ice, adhered forever to my palate, and the Beatles sang, "Guess you know it's true," and Janet stopped all life processes, virtually killed with horror, which she out of a compassion not of this earth tried to hide by smiling, and she began to look in her purse for a Kleenex, with the obscenely flesh-and-bone-colored glob of chewed food on the end of her hose, and I watched it all through the large end of a telescope, and then the world ceased mercifully to be, and I became infinitely small and infinitely dense, a tiny black star twinkling negatively amid a crumple of empty suit and shoes. This was my taste of hell at twenty. The month following that night is an irretrievable blank in my memory, an expletive deleted. That portion of my brain is cooked smooth.

Amazing. Fits in so well with Rick's characterization. Reminds me of Tom in Purity

—p.211 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

[...] as I opened my mouth there somehow flew out of my mouth an enormous glob of the chewed hors d'oeuvre, the Ritz cracker and bologna, chewed, with saliva on it, with shocking force, and it flew out and landed on the fleshy part of Janet Dibdin's nose, and stayed there. And the friends were blasted into silence, and the rest of the hors d'oeuvre in my mouth turned to ice, adhered forever to my palate, and the Beatles sang, "Guess you know it's true," and Janet stopped all life processes, virtually killed with horror, which she out of a compassion not of this earth tried to hide by smiling, and she began to look in her purse for a Kleenex, with the obscenely flesh-and-bone-colored glob of chewed food on the end of her hose, and I watched it all through the large end of a telescope, and then the world ceased mercifully to be, and I became infinitely small and infinitely dense, a tiny black star twinkling negatively amid a crumple of empty suit and shoes. This was my taste of hell at twenty. The month following that night is an irretrievable blank in my memory, an expletive deleted. That portion of my brain is cooked smooth.

Amazing. Fits in so well with Rick's characterization. Reminds me of Tom in Purity

—p.211 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

(noun) a journey especially when undertaken to escape from a dangerous or undesirable situation; exodus; from the migration or journey of Muhammad and his followers from Mecca to Medina in 622

224

heterosexual singles bars I'd attended during the first desolate Lenoreless years after my hegira to Cleveland

—p.224 default author
confirm
1 year, 5 months ago

heterosexual singles bars I'd attended during the first desolate Lenoreless years after my hegira to Cleveland

—p.224 default author
confirm
1 year, 5 months ago
224

[...] The eyes were bright green, but bright and still soft, somehow, plant-green as opposed to emerald green, so that he still looked like a human being, and not a product of technology, as so many green-eyed people in my opinion do. Look like products of technology. [...]

Rick describing Andrew Lang

—p.224 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

[...] The eyes were bright green, but bright and still soft, somehow, plant-green as opposed to emerald green, so that he still looked like a human being, and not a product of technology, as so many green-eyed people in my opinion do. Look like products of technology. [...]

Rick describing Andrew Lang

—p.224 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

(verb) philosophy: to negate or eliminate (as an element in a dialectic process) but preserve as a partial element in a synthesis; assimilate (a smaller entity) into a larger one; used by Hegel

239

talk Hegelian sublation

—p.239 default author
notable
1 year, 5 months ago

talk Hegelian sublation

—p.239 default author
notable
1 year, 5 months ago
239

"[...] I have to get all prepared to talk Hegelian sublation with Nervous Roy Keller, which will be a bitch, because Nervous Roy is far too nervous to assimilate any but the most clearly presented information. Clear presentation is not Hegel's strength."

just kinda funny (LaVache speaking)

—p.239 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

"[...] I have to get all prepared to talk Hegelian sublation with Nervous Roy Keller, which will be a bitch, because Nervous Roy is far too nervous to assimilate any but the most clearly presented information. Clear presentation is not Hegel's strength."

just kinda funny (LaVache speaking)

—p.239 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago
251

"Looks like Gramma screwed up, unless perhaps the guy was dropped from a helicopter into this exact position; that's one possibility Dr. W never fathomed. I guess there wre no helicopters back in his day. Technology does affect interpretation, after all, doesn't it?"

LaVache speaking

—p.251 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago

"Looks like Gramma screwed up, unless perhaps the guy was dropped from a helicopter into this exact position; that's one possibility Dr. W never fathomed. I guess there wre no helicopters back in his day. Technology does affect interpretation, after all, doesn't it?"

LaVache speaking

—p.251 by David Foster Wallace 1 year, 5 months ago