I got 200-300 pages in twice before finally, on the third try, getting over the hump, after which I couldn't put it down, and in fact re-read it a couple years

I got 200-300 pages in twice before finally, on the third try, getting over the hump, after which I couldn't put it down, and in fact re-read it a couple years later. I think the key to enjoying it is thinking of it less as a singular linear story, and more as a large portfolio of short stories, many of which can be assembled more or less linearly to tell a mostly cohesive story (though many of the other stories are peripheral to the main thread). This might sound ridiculous, but DFW was a masterful composer of short stories, and once you adapt to enjoying each little section of IJ on its own terms, the whole becomes much, much more enjoyable. Thrilling, even - I frequently found that the more dull or challenging a given short story was, the more powerfully it ended. There's something almost musical about how he could slowly mount tension (as tedium, or difficulty, or obscurity) to an almost unbearable pitch, only to sublimate it in the end. My .02 anyway. I know many people find other people's enthusiasm for his work annoying, but I'm not totally sure why. They're just stories. There's nothing fundamentally toxic about it.