They told their stories, like Barthelme, as sequences of short, eccentric, perfectly formed little scenes

They told their stories, like Barthelme, as sequences of short, eccentric, perfectly formed little scenes

By the time Barthelme died, the meta-fictional landscape had pretty much already subsided-and with the possible exception of Pynchon-whose fabulations were growing increasingly concerned with the real world of Reaganomics (Vineland) and 9/11 (Bleeding Edge)-most of the writers who attended Barthelme’s Postmodern Dinners in New York were fading from center stage in Manhattan’s always-fickle literary scene. But while the likes of Barthelme, Gass, Robert Coover, and Walter Abish were no longer celebrated as much as the new generation of so-called “minimalists,” it’s hard not to see Barthelme’s influence in the work of those who came after him: Raymond Carver, Tobias Wolff, Ann Beattie, Richard Ford, and even Donald’s younger brother Frederick. And just like Barthelme, they broke our hearts, over and over again-whether wild or mundane, weirdly unbelievable or all too believable-with reflections of our common, ineffable, and totally surreal human life.

And many of his late stories focus on the private lives of men and women who were-like Barthelme and his various partners-lively, sad, lost, gentle, angry, and always searching aplicaciones como kik for the next relationship or story

Barthelme might have had a less successful career if not for a few decent bursts of luck along the way. His youthful occupation as a museum curator developed in him a fondness for discordantly arranged items and subjects, and as an influential, prescient editor of Forum at the University of Houston, he became an early proponent of the likes of Gass, Norman Mailer, and Walker Percy, all of whom eventually (and not coincidentally) became early proponents of Barthelme. (más…)