For DFW aficionados like my brother, Quarterly Conversation has a symposium covering all his work, not just his new posthumous Pale King.
(The Awl also published a piece a few months ago probing into the depths of DFW's depression. From what I heard, since I am ashamed to not read every article on DFW, the author treats his illness with the condescension of someone who lives in a world of lollipops and rainbows. There seems little point in romanticizing or dismaying Wallace's internal odyssey even if his work can never be separated from his death.)