For many years, the dystopian novel has held a sacred place on Hall’s coffee table atop a stack of vintage National Geographic magazines, purchased for $70 per issue at an old cigar shop turned urban antique barn.
“It’s definitely the first thing I saw when Brody and I went back to his apartment after our date” commented Tinder date Holly McKenna, “completely unprovoked, he just said ‘sorry for the mess, I’m finally conquering Wallace’, and placed his hand on the cover pensively.”
In an apartment barren of any other books, the complex literary achievement became a hallmark personality signifier for Hall, who heard Infinite Jest mentioned on NPR one time and decided to purchase a copy. After reading the first three pages, skipping to the middle, then becoming frustrated by footnotes, Hall simply carved out the centre of the book and developed a habit of disposing of snack detritus inside there.
At press time, Hall had stacked Kurt Vonnegut’s collected works next to his bed so that he’d have somewhere to put his iPhone while charging it overnight.