Boswell referred to Broom as "first and foremost a work of metafiction," but I do not fully agree. While the "direct and immediate concern with fiction-making itself" that characterizes the metafictionist, is undeniably present in Broom, it is superseded by a much more pressing concern: how to actually live in a linguistically unstable world, the same concern Wallace observed in Wittgenstein's Mistress. Broom offers a structural meditation on exactly that instability, forcing he novel's form to replicate the linguistic labyrinth of its characters; the novel explores, and indeed exploits, the conventions of metafiction, but does not allow the work to be overwhelmed by its metafictionality. Rather, Broom is more a work that interrogates metafiction by means of its own devices, and finds it wanting. [...]

[...] In Oneself as Another, the published version of his Gifford Lectures, Ricoeur posits the existence of two separate and opposing strands of individual identity, the idem and the ipse. In Ricoeur's conception of the self, "the narrative constructs the identity of the character"; we use stories about ourselves to make sense of the world and our place in it.

Randall [...] has an elevated opinion of his own intellectual standing. [...] unnecessary Latin phrases, italicization, and the use of exaggerated inverted commas as a sort of conversational crutch, ostensibly indicating his disdain for contemporary argot, but actually revealing a narrator uncomfortable with his own voice, a discomfort that proves crucial once the sub-narrative is revealed at the close to the story. The uneasy edge to the voice keeps the reader alert [...]

[...] the narrator despises this girl's lifestyle and outlook, yet finds himself almost obsessively in need of her approval and love. As a consequence, he attempts to master her, to prove his own superiority, in much the same way as Wallace described the tendency he saw in his own and others' work to challenge the reader with long sentences, too much data or the intentional frustration of expectations. When that does not work, and the narrator realizes that the power balance in the story has shifted to the girl, he loses his control over language altogether, transferring his rage to the other mute female character in an incoherent tirade. The transference of anger in the final paragraph demonstrates the effect of a total loss of power on the linguistic control of the narrator, offering a clear psychological link between linguistic dominance and other forms of power.

[...] Wallace distances himself falely from a group in order to establish a relationship wtih the reader. This tactic is more complex--and often less successful--in the scholarly writing, because, as shown here, Wallace frequently is an expert in what he writes about. With that in min, such distancing seems outright mendacious. By linguistically encoding the opposition that may or may not exist between him as author/narrator and the implicit "them"--in this case critics and theoreticians--Wallace attempts to solidify his alliance with the reader. However, the disjunction between this alliance and the tone and content of the essay's substantive portions serves to underscore Wallace's disingenuous construction, thus perhaps putting the reader even more on guard.

De la Durantaye articulates Wallace's vision as follows: "freedom is not about having as few fetters as possible; it is about leading an examined life. Freedom is about being a good person, choosing to be a good person, every day."