Lost in the Funhouse (The Anchor Literary Library)

Rating:
Summary: laizzez-faire postmodernism
Review: Although I find this collection of stories top-notch, I can't offer an unqualified review. John Barth is not for everyone. Having explored these stories with college students, I know that everyone doesn't share my enthusiasm. If you like postmodern fiction, Barth is your man. If you like Pynchon, Barthelme, Brautigan, Vonnegut or Borges, then Barth is your man. The title story says it all. The plot involves a family trip to Ocean City, MD. The real story, though, which Barth inserts with italics every so often, is a meditation upon the art of telling a story. Thus, it is the epitome of the self-conscious or self-reflexive story. It isn't written in such a complex manner that it isn't accessible to the average reader. Still, the self-reflexive intrusions of the author--telling us HOW the story is being told, and WHAT is going on from a literary technique standpoint--is distracting for many readers.

Rating:
Summary: Maybe not as bad as I originally thought
Review: I reviewed this book in 1999, calling it "Self-Serving Drivel." I recently went back to re-read it, hoping that I had been naive and dumb at the time and that Barth's stories would improve with the reader's experience. No such luck. It's still self-serving drivel.

Maybe at the time it was published this brand of metafiction was revolutionary, but it has not held up well over the intevening years. Some modern metafiction has revealed important, enduring truths about the problems of reading and writing, but Barth's convoluted first steps into the genre read as needlessly complicated tellings of very simple stories.

His prose style is certainly unique and evocative, and some of his stories are amazingly inventive ("Ambrose His Mark" most notably) but as a whole this collection comes off very badly. When he launches off into syntax-less prose poetry he reveals all of his style's weaknesses in exchange for no noticeable strengths. All in all, not very good.

Rating:
Summary: Maybe not as bad as I originally thought
Review: I will admit that there are plenty of classic masterpiece quality short stories out there, collections or otherwise. I'm just not an avid reader of them . . . maybe I just like big hefty books, maybe I don't like switching gears every twenty pages or so . . . who knows? But I do like Barth and this is pretty short so I figured, what the hey? Unlike most short story collections which generally just wait until an author has enough stories to fill a book before publishing, this book was originally conceived as a group of short stories that in some form or another share the same thematic elements and much like an album, is sequenced into a proper order and should be read that way. So he says. Barth admits in the foreword that he doesn't normally write short stories and this was his attempt at playing with the medium, which as you might suspect gives you all kinds of hit or miss stories . . . generally the quality is pretty high and for such an academic guy, Barth's pretty funny (he can respect and make fun of mythology at the same time without seeming smug or arch, which I think is hard to do) and if the humor's on, then for the most part that can carry the nuttier moments. Basically it's a "post-modern" sort of short story collection, so there aren't many compromises to things like form or structure or plot (one story is essentially a Moebius strip) which has the effect of making some stories feel like little more than academic exercises in form, rendering them a bit distant emotionally. Like looking at abstract art I guess, you can admire the technique even as you can't appreciate the emotion behind it. But when the collection works, it works great. The title story is my personal favorite, but the last one is the best of the mythology based ones (parts of this seem like a runthrough for Chimera) and overall if you're not looking for Joycean slice of life tales or knotted little tales of suspense, but instead an attempt to bend the rules a bit, then you'll probably like this. Not Barth's best work but it's short and the gems outweigh the duds by a good margin, so it could be worse.

Rating:
Summary: Stretching short stories
Review: I will admit that there are plenty of classic masterpiece quality short stories out there, collections or otherwise. I'm just not an avid reader of them . . . maybe I just like big hefty books, maybe I don't like switching gears every twenty pages or so . . . who knows? But I do like Barth and this is pretty short so I figured, what the hey? Unlike most short story collections which generally just wait until an author has enough stories to fill a book before publishing, this book was originally conceived as a group of short stories that in some form or another share the same thematic elements and much like an album, is sequenced into a proper order and should be read that way. So he says. Barth admits in the foreword that he doesn't normally write short stories and this was his attempt at playing with the medium, which as you might suspect gives you all kinds of hit or miss stories . . . generally the quality is pretty high and for such an academic guy, Barth's pretty funny (he can respect and make fun of mythology at the same time without seeming smug or arch, which I think is hard to do) and if the humor's on, then for the most part that can carry the nuttier moments. Basically it's a "post-modern" sort of short story collection, so there aren't many compromises to things like form or structure or plot (one story is essentially a Moebius strip) which has the effect of making some stories feel like little more than academic exercises in form, rendering them a bit distant emotionally. Like looking at abstract art I guess, you can admire the technique even as you can't appreciate the emotion behind it. But when the collection works, it works great. The title story is my personal favorite, but the last one is the best of the mythology based ones (parts of this seem like a runthrough for Chimera) and overall if you're not looking for Joycean slice of life tales or knotted little tales of suspense, but instead an attempt to bend the rules a bit, then you'll probably like this. Not Barth's best work but it's short and the gems outweigh the duds by a good margin, so it could be worse.

Rating:
Summary: laizzez-faire postmodernism
Review: John Barth is not a doctrinaire postmodernist. He does not reject the label of 'postmodernist writer', but he is not interested in following the doctrine to logical end. That would apparently take the fun out of the funhouse.

This book is a series of essays, meditations, short stories and jokes that examine the creative process as ontogeny. Barth is funny and melancholy at the same time. He is skeptical, but also to some degree hopeful, about the possibility of writing anything that could be useful to someone else.

His enthusiastic and hilarious references made me want to read or re-read many classic pieces of literature including Allen Ginsberg's "Howl", Ovid's "Metamorphoses" and the Iliad and "1001 Arabian Nights". And he made me believe that I could get a lot more out of them, if I would just question a few more of my presumptions.