Essayism by Brian Dillon

How hard is Essayism to read?

Essayism scores 66 out of 100 for difficulty on ReadingRate, making it quite demanding. The score is a weighted composite of nine measures: four of how hard the prose is to parse, five of how hard the meaning is to extract.

Vocabulary: 78 out of 100

Dillon employs a rich, academic vocabulary, frequently using specialized terminology from literary theory, philosophy, and art criticism (e.g., 'hypotaxis,' 'paratactic,' 'agudeza,' 'chiasmus,' 'punctum,' 'Wunderkammer'). The text is dense with allusions to a wide array of authors and concepts, requiring familiarity with a broad intellectual lexicon. While not employing invented language like 'Finnegans Wake,' its sophisticated and precise word choice places it significantly above '2666' and closer to 'Gravity's Rainbow' in its demands.

Sentence structure: 75 out of 100

The prose features long, complex sentences with multiple clauses, frequent parentheticals, and extensive subordination, demanding sustained reader attention. Dillon often constructs sentences that build through a series of observations or references before reaching their main point, reminiscent of Proustian subordination. While not reaching the extreme lengths or unpunctuated streams of consciousness found in 'Ulysses' or Faulkner, the intricate sentence architecture is consistently challenging.

Abstraction: 82 out of 100

The book is a sustained meditation on the essay form, style, and the author's personal experiences with anxiety and depression, framed through philosophical and literary analysis. It frequently delves into abstract concepts like 'essayism,' 'dispersal,' 'coherence,' and 'vulnerability,' using concrete examples primarily to illustrate theoretical points rather than as a primary narrative. This consistent engagement with theoretical content, even when personal, places it high on the abstraction scale, akin to 'Gravity's Rainbow' in its metaphysical digressions.

Information density: 85 out of 100

Each page is packed with concepts, literary references, and philosophical arguments, often interwoven with personal reflection and historical context. Dillon's essays are polymathic, drawing on a vast intellectual landscape from classical philosophy to postmodern theory, requiring readers to process a high volume of interconnected ideas. The text's dense allusions and conceptual layering demand significant attention and background knowledge, approaching the demands of 'Ulysses' in its encyclopedic scope.

Narrative indirection: 70 out of 100

The author explicitly discusses the essay's 'obliquity' and 'multiplicity,' presenting arguments through associative examples and personal anecdotes rather than direct exposition. Readers must infer the connections between disparate literary examples and the author's psychological states, especially in the recurring 'On Consolation' sections, which function as parables for broader themes. This requires more inference than a book like *Beloved* (50) but is less opaque than *Flights* (78).

Symbolic density: 80 out of 100

The text is rich with recurring motifs such as dust, fragments, lists, and the 'dispersed' self, which consistently carry meaning beyond their literal presence. The author frequently elevates concrete details—like the cosmic dust particle or Didion's missing watch—to symbolic status, explicitly linking them to the nature of essayism, anxiety, and the human condition, akin to the pervasive symbolism in *To the Lighthouse* (82).

Ironic distance: 75 out of 100

Dillon maintains a high degree of self-awareness, frequently employing self-deprecating humor and meta-commentary on his own writing process and past intellectual poses. He critiques his own 'stupidly proud' productivity and acknowledges the 'cliché' of writing about depression, creating a sophisticated ironic layer where the author both engages with and comments on his subject and himself, similar to the nuanced critique in *Lolita* (75).

Resolution withholding: 85 out of 100

The book's central theme is the essay's 'unfinished nature' and resistance to definitive closure, a principle Dillon embodies in his own fragmented structure and ongoing personal narrative. The recurring 'On Consolation' chapters present depression as a continuous struggle rather than a resolved arc, and the book concludes by circling back to the idea of fragments and 'ruins,' explicitly rejecting a neat ending, much like the cyclical nature of *Infinite Jest* (88).

Structural complexity: 78 out of 100

The book employs a fragmented, non-linear structure, interweaving personal memoir, literary criticism, and meta-commentary across thematic chapters. This constant shifting between different modes, voices, and temporalities, along with dense allusions and self-reflexive commentary, demands active reader engagement to synthesize meaning, making it more complex than *Midnight's Children* (68) and approaching the discontinuity of *Flights* (88).

How Essayism is regarded

Essayism holds a literary regard score of 41 out of 100, weighing its place in the canon, its critical reception, its influence on other writers, and the standing of its author. Regard is measured separately from difficulty: a demanding book is not necessarily an admired one.

About the author

Brian Dillon