Pretension can have its own sort of charm.

Or things with a pretentious reputation, that is. Hear me out: there actually is a lot to say about an abstract painting of one black square. Also, an experimental film with a complete lack of narrative can convey a lot of beauty. It’s kinda fun sometimes to be overdressed, and, who would’ve thought, pour-over coffee is better than instant.

Since its publication in 1996, David Foster Wallace’s critically acclaimed novel Infinite Jest has often been labeled pretentious. In all fairness, the novel is undeniably unconventional. It spans nearly 1,100 pages with nearly 400 footnotes—some of which have footnotes of their own. Fans of the novel are aware of its reputation as an unread bookshelf decoration.

Set in a near-future dystopian society between a junior tennis academy and an addiction halfway house, the book features meticulously detailed and deeply funny characters with equally funny background stories. Some standouts include:

• A clean freak American president whose attempts to beautify the nation lead to environmental catastrophe in northern New England.

• A violent Quebecois separatist movement in response to US “experialism” (forcibly giving away land).

• A group of self-identified “Hideously and Improbably Deformed” individuals who perpetually don a veil.

• A corporate-subsidized calendar system swapping numbered years for chronologically confusing names like “Year of the Whopper”.

• A chapter-long description of a Model-UN-esque schoolyard game riffing on international nuclear war.

• The Enfield Tennis Academy motto—“They can kill you, but the legalities of eating you are a bit dicier.”

• An oddly emotional attachment to the city of Boston. (Fitting for this magazine—almost every neighborhood, T-line, and landmark in 1990s Boston is mentioned throughout the book. The tennis school and halfway house are both neighboring Allston. A few of the characters went to BU.)

Self-referential, meandering, and oftentimes obscure, Infinite Jest is a work of fiction that demands patience. Ultimately, however, the novel’s eccentricities contribute to a highly rewarding read. Between the irony lies an endless sincerity, and Wallace gives a deeply compassionate account of postmodern alienation.

Infinite Jest follows most closely the incredibly dysfunctional Incandenza family. The closest we get to a main character is their youngest son Hal Incandenza, a highly intelligent yet emotionally adrift tennis prodigy. Hal is a top student at the Enfield Tennis Academy, which was previously co-owned by his parents, James and April Incandenza. The main narrative revolves around an avant-garde short film created by James a few years prior. Referred to as “the Entertainment,” the film is so captivating that viewers lose all interest in their surroundings, becoming catatonically focused on the film until they die. James commits suicide shortly after finishing the film. In a Shakespearean twist of fate, his role at the tennis academy is taken over by Hal’s uncle, leaving Hal as a brooding Hamlet-like figure. Something is rotten in Allston/Brighton.

A guiding question looms as the narrative unfolds: are we really spending our lives in a way that reflects who we want to be? In a separate essay, Wallace argues that “There is no such thing as atheism…. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship.” We can see this sentiment reflected in Infinite Jest: in the contemporary world of abundance and freedom, almost all the characters choose to worship the wrong thing. The addicts fall to drugs and alcohol, the junior tennis players obsessively train, Hal’s older brother compulsively sleeps around, and the viewers of “the Entertainment” watch the film until their death. After his father’s suicide, Hal withdraws further and further into a marijuana dependency and comforting solitude, becoming increasingly unable to communicate with others.

While some critics think Infinite Jest to be pretentious, I’d argue that it simply asks a lot from its reader. To reflect on your life and your own bad habits is tough work. Besides, pretension, the underlying need to be better than others, is its own flawed form of worship. Wallace says it himself. In the book, he writes, “Everybody is identical in their secret unspoken belief that way deep down they are different from everyone else.”

Infinite Jest is a postmodern American odyssey; it is Hamlet’s “to be or not to be” fleshed out with 1,000 more words. As we watch the characters search for meaning, the novel forces us to confront our culture’s addiction to television, drugs, and loneliness. We grapple with whether our endless worship of pleasure is truly fulfilling or just a distraction. Ultimately, Infinite Jest invites readers to question not only the characters’ fates, but also their own, making it a compelling read for anyone willing to confront the complexities of the contemporary world.