Upon further review of my previous review (which was blank) of the DFW book in question, I remember now giving the book one star because I was led to believe the goodreads rating system, which one star meant I did not like the book, which was completely true. But, in all honesty, I did not like the book mostly because I could not understand it. And besides not understanding it, I was having no fun while reading it. Much of the French, Italian, and local semi-contemporary philosophy I read I do not understand either, but I love reading it. It is fun for me reading Gilles Deleuze, Giorgio Agamben, and Alphonso Lingis. And every now and then I get something happening to me while reading it which can only be explained as a sort of revelation, a good idea, or perhaps an inspiration. So, to be fair, the book of DFW's might have been great, but it was lost on me the reader. Just wanting to be honest with all of you here. I looked at some of these other reviews of the same book and realize I am so very very far out of my league of expertise. ( )

David Foster Wallace was more than a complex fiction writer. He was also a complex philosopher. Much like his father, James Wallace, David had a knack for wrapping his brain around logistical queries and rewriting them to his liking. One such problem concerned a paper on Fatalism written back in the 60’s by a fellow named Richard Taylor. Taylor sought out to prove that, though philosophy, a logical argument could be made for maintaining a position that fatalism is alive and well in what he calls ‘logical necessity’.

A fatalist reasons that the future (much like the past) cannot be changed and thinks that any and all future events are inevitable. What happens was meant to happen and there’s no other way it could have happened.

The book starts with Taylor’s short essay and then snowballs into back and forth sniping between Taylor and critics that sought to expose fatalism as nothing more than wishful thinking. Then, in 1985, Wallace, a twenty-something grad student looking for a thesis, took on Taylor’s argument, and, in the process, created what was called System J, for interpreting physical modalities.

To be sure, this is incredibly deep material. As someone who’s had only a few philosophical (logic, not historical) classes, I quickly lost my nerve after reading the first essay by Taylor. A big part to understanding the material is rooted in mathematical algebraic logic. Though it’s not as mind-bending as his 2010 book on mathematical infinity, “Everything and More...”, Time, Fate, and Language is no pushover.

However, it’s DFW’s writing that helps the reader glean his overall point, which I believe is cogent enough for any reader to understand. It’s not that Taylor is outright wrong, but rather, Wallace argues that Taylor is confusing metaphysics and semantics in his presuppositions leading to the oft-repeated syllogism: A sea battle will either take or not take place if a naval commander issues a certain order.

Should fans of DFW be encouraged to pick up this previously unpublished thesis? On the one hand there is some insight (not enough), mostly contained in the preface and appendices that shed light on DFW as a student and his blossoming philosophy hobby. It doesn’t necessarily, and shouldn’t, act as a full biographical account, as that’s not where the focus of the book lies, but if you’re interested to know some of DFW’s motivations as a student (not to mention to see how densely constructed his writing could be for a 25 year old) then perhaps you may want to seek out this title. At the worst you’ll spend days after bemoaning the loss of such a philosophical and literary talent but at the very best you’ll have a spent just a little more time gaining some insight into the mind of a gifted individual. ( )