Donald Barthelme was one of the most influential and inventive writers of the twentieth century. Through his unique, richly textured, and brilliantly realized novels, stories, parodies, satires, fables, and essays, Barthelme redefined a generation of American letters. To John Hawkes, he was “one of our greatest of all comic writers.” Robert Coover called him “one of our great citizens of contemporary world letters.” And to Thomas Pynchon, who coined the term Barthelismo, his work conveyed something of “the clarity and sweep, the intensity of emotion, the transcendent weirdness of the primary experience.”
This collection presents all of Barthelme's previously unpublished and uncollected short fiction, as well as work not published in his two compendium editions, Sixty Storiesand Forty Stories. Highlights of Flying to America include three unpublished stories, “Among the Beanwoods,” “Heather,” and “Pandemonium”; fourteen stories never before available in book form-from his first published story, “Pages from the Annual Report” (1959), to his last, “Tickets” (1989); and the long out-of-print Sam's Bar, with illustrations by Seymour Chwast. With Flying to America, fans and new readers alike have the huge pleasure of a new collection from one of America's great literary masters.
A student at the University of Pennsylvania bore Donald Barthelme. Two years later, in 1933, the family moved to Texas, where father of Barthelme served as a professor of architecture at the University of Houston, where Barthelme later majored in journalism.
In 1951, this still student composed his first articles for the Houston Post. The Army drafted Barthelme, who arrived in Korea on 27 July 1953, the very day, when parties signed the ceasefire, ending the war. He served briefly as the editor of a newspaper of Army before returning to the United States and his job at the Houston Post. Once back, he continued his studies of philosophy at the University of Houston. He continued to take classes until 1957 but never received a degree. He spent much of his free time in “black” jazz clubs of Houston and listened to musical innovators, such as Lionel Hampton and Peck Kelly; this experience influenced him later.
Barthelme, a rebellious son, struggled in his relationship with his demanding father. In later years, they tremendously argued about the kinds of literature that interested Barthelme. His avant-garde father in art and aesthetics in many ways approved not the postmodern and deconstruction schools. The Dead Father and The King , the novels, delineate attitude of Barthelme toward his father as King Arthur and Lancelot, the characters, picture him. From the Roman Catholicism of his especially devout mother, Barthelme independently moved away, but this separation as the distance with his father troubled Barthelme. He ably agreed to strictures of his seemingly much closer mother.
Barthelme went to teach for brief periods at Boston University and at University at Buffalo, and he at the college of the City of New York served as distinguished visiting professor from 1974-1975. He married four times. Helen Barthelme, his second wife, later entitled a biography Donald Barthelme: The Genesis of a Cool Sound, published in 2001. With Birgit Barthelme, his third wife and a Dane, he fathered Anne Barthelme, his first child, a daughter. He married Marion Barthelme near the end and fathered Kate Barthelme, his second daughter. Marion and Donald wed until his death from throat cancer. People respect fiction of Frederick Barthelme and Steven Barthelme, brothers of Donald Barthelme and also teachers at The University of Southern Mississippi.
третій том повного зібрання його новел. порівняно зі збірками 60 і 40 - тут ще менше шедеврів і часто виникає відчуття якоїсь незграбності: ось є у Бартелмі гарна ідея (пожежник зранку прокидається, а у нього немає лівої руки), а що з нею робити, він не знаю... прикре відчуття, неначе хтось силкується пожартувати, але виходить у нього все одно невесело. із того, що тут варто прочитати:
Edward and Pia Bone Bubbles The Big Broadcast of 1938 Hiding Man Pages from the Annual Report A Picture History of the War To London and Rome Florence Green Is 81
We could be talking about Bucharest…my home town and a place which has (too) many churches. The officials of the church, instead of spending money on new, expensive buildings, should do more and give money to the poor. Before I start grumbling about the high priests here, I must go back to this excellent story.
At the center of the story is not a priest, Jesus Christ Superstar or the like, but a young woman, with little to do with any church. True, the other main character is a kind of a bigot, species of which this town of churches has plenty.
The particularity of this city is that these many churches are grouped together. We have Presbyterian, Unitarian, Pentecostal, protestant… you name it, and they have it.
People put religion not just at the center of their communal life, but it seems to me that religion is in any and every part of their existence.
That may be fine- a while ago, I would scorn such an attitude, but I have been reading positive psychology, which revealed to me that we need spirituality and those are religious tend to be happier than the rest of us.
The young woman is supposed to work in a would-be car rental office and needs to rent a place. Here the troubles start and end, with a lot of humor for s short story. Inhabitants of this town of churches can live in…bell towers, there is a plentitude. Our heroine wants to have a place on her own, but the interlocutor disagrees:
“- Why alone?
- Because I want to
- But here people share; they have a place with family, friends…
- I want a place on my own…”
The argument continues and the woman says I have thoughts, dreams of sexual nature.
That and the fact that no one will rent a car in a hundred years in this city of churches, pretty much added to my joy and pleasure of reading this splendid story.
Donald Barthelme set the tone for countless short stories to follow, alternatingly dreamlike and piecemeal on one side, deliberately bland and ironic on the other, almost vaporwave in its effect. Unfortunately, most of those weirdo experiments have been sidestepped in the mainstream of discourse. Flying to America isn't Barthelme's best collection but it remains, like the best of his work, a flipbook of the imagination.
The resurrection of Donald Barthelme is a long time coming, but ends here on an anti-climactic note, with the odds and ends of a fitful career, an addendum to his work rather than its apotheosis.
Barthelme, whose mastery of a certain type of short story — oftentimes they were not stories at all, but conversations, set pieces, harangues, language games — led Thomas Pynchon to coin the phrase “Barthelmismo,” never quite disappeared, but his legacy fell into slight disrepair. In his own lifetime, which ended prematurely in 1989, Barthelme epitomized a strain of Seventies experimentalism now being reappraised after enduring a good few decades of desultory genre tags, “metafiction” being the most common. Barthelme’s writing does indeed exalt in appropriation, subversion of narrative conventions, collage, the conflation of bureaucratic and provincial idioms. The man himself fit the bill, too: A Texan who relocated to New York’s West Village, he published the bulk of his stories in The New Yorker, sold very few copies of his own volumes, drank Scotch prodigiously, donned cowboy boots, wore a feral beard, fraternized with the abstract expressionists, married four times, and trafficked in aphorisms. You might have found him wandering the streets with his neighbor Grace Paley muttering, “Fragments are the only forms I trust.”
sadly diminishing returns but still some gleaming gems. don might have been the most inconsistent of the great pomos, even from sentence to sentence sometimes he can swing from banal to brilliant, and there's at least the certainty of knowing that as he works in small slices there'll be something new along soon
I don't know if my taste has changed or if this book's stories just weren't as good as 40 Stories, Snow White, or 60 Stories. But I honestly just slugged through this without enthusiasm. I didn't hate it or even dislike it, it just didn't grab me like his other works have done.
Missing some of the ecstatic highs of Barthelme’s 60 Stories and 40 Stories, which is understandable as this is an odds-and-ends collection of unpublished stories (including an early draft of Paradise). But reading him is always a joy, and we’re lucky these stories weren’t lost to time.
Some high highs and some lows but mostly even keel, a great writer and want to ready more of the stories, but collected with this many it begins to be... one not haw haw haw haw.
Probaby my least favorite collection of Barthelme, but there were a dozen or so stories out of the 45 that made it enjoyable. Felt the most scattershot and uneven of the three collections I've read (the other two being, Sixty Stories and Forty Stories). Many of the stories in the other two volumes also appeared in previous volumes, which took more editorial care over their selection. One gets a window on just how important editorial organizing and selection can be when covering a short story writer in this excellent article: Disassembling Donald Barthelme: Flying to America's Unfortunate Disorganization.
It is strange that it is this particular collection of short stories, the final grab bag of what was left uncollected and unpublished after previous collections, is the only volume of Donald Barthelme's short stories my library has, and that it has two of them. However, this banal oddity pales in comparison to the volume itself, by turns delightful, odd, and indigestible, like a bag of strange candies from a far foreign country. Three stars is as good as I can reasonably give for a book that I didn't finish and don't intend to finish. However, I can say that "Flying to America" and "Paradise before the Egg" were both memorable as delightful pulls from the candy bag.
Only a few previously uncollected stories in here--the bulk of this come from various short story collections, but some of the stories that were published elsewhere and hadn't previously found their way into a book are wonderful. But any act of completion of almost any artist’s work is going to feel a little underwhelming, I fear.
This book is so good we had it stolen out of the rental car! OK, they probably thought they were scoring a laptop since it was inside a laptop bag, but really this is better loot and luckily much easier to replace. I thought the title story was the least grabbing but the rest did not fail to delight.
Most of the rest of Barthelme. Reading it just made me want a fancy series of reprints of all the original collections with the stories in their original chronological order. Instead you've got to scramble between four volumes (and good luck ever re-assembling Overnight to Many Distant Cities). But that's not this book's fault -- I'm just cranky.
Although it contains a few excellent stories, this final collection isn't representative of Donald Barthelme's best work. In fact, many of the pieces in here read like excellent Barthelme parodies (which is, of course, how it goes for any author who produces a large body of work). Far from essential, but a worthwhile selection for more devoted fans.
“Just as the white snow on the ground is loved and applauded by everyone, but would be derided if it pretended to be vanilla ice cream, so the human persona can stand only so much artificial enhancement, for instance by lies.”
bleah i love you donald but i can't handle this much of your stuff in one sitting this would be a good book to read in small pieces, like, leave it on the kitchen table and read it at breakfast on saturdays only if you just power through it it gets very boring after page 100 or so
Flying to America is another enjoyable romp through Barthelme country, and I may even enjoy it more than 60 Stories. Powerhouse shorts like The Police Band, Brave as Vincent Van Gogh, and Paradise Before the Egg are up there with the finest of the author's work.
Not as consistently excellent as Forty Stories or Sixty Stories, but a few solid stories here for those who have tackled the other collections and need more Barthelme.