I had big trouble getting through this section. James" father is very convincingly (and annoyingly) an extremely tedious alcoholic, which is perfectly reflected in the writing i.e. his monologue. He's does that thing that alcoholic parents do of using their kids as a sounding board for things that they should be spilling to a psychoanalyst, he goes on ad nauseam, he's determined to turn the feelings of inadequacy engendered in him by his own father around by living vicariously through his browbeaten son. Jim will be the tennis star that he fell short of being--and by the way that's a good excuse for why I drink son. He doesn't let the kid have a word in edgewise; he doesn't even let the kid cry, he is sort of sarcastic about the kid crying. "no, go on, cry, don't inhibit yourself, I won't say a word, except it's getting to me less all the time when you do it" (p. 163), as though the emotional pain of a ten year-old is some kind of _ploy_ .
There is no question of "what does the kid want?" "What are my kid's hopes and dreams for life?' It's all very narcissistic. He feels sorry for himself as he recounts what seems to be the most humiliating thing his father "may he rot...in hell (p, 163, p.166) ever did to him--and that's probably, as is the case with alcoholic rambling, not the first time. And of course, he keeps drinking _in front of_ his son while apologizing for it. He even tries to introduce James to alcohol and get him to appreciate that most lovingly caressed of all the paraphernalia of alcoholism, the silver hip-flask. He comes down on James for a trivial thing like how he put a book on the floor. Sheesh!
An illustration of the roots of addiction and the lack of connection between a child and a parent that perhaps DFW is trying to point out leads to people maturing without gaining the ability to truly listen.
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