This week’s New Yorker has an excellent piece on David Foster Wallace, on his struggles with depression and with writing The Pale King, the unfinished novel he left behind. Wallace’s wife found several thousand pages of the work in progress in their garage after his death. The book (a partial manuscript) will be published posthumously by Little, Brown next year; D.T. Max (writer of the New Yorker piece) describes it as about “a group of employees at an Internal Revenue Service center in Illinois, and how they deal with the tediousness of their work.” Here are some manuscript pages from it, and here is an earlier incarnation of one section — “The Compliance Branch” — first published in Harpers.