Donald Barthelme has a new book out this week, Flying to America. The book gathers forty-five short pieces not already anthologized in 40 Stories, 60 Stories, The Teachings of Don B., or Not-Knowing. It also includes a few stories never before published anywhere, and previously difficult-to-find “Sam’s Bar,” an illustrated story I once I saw in a library but have never seen in its originally released format.
Over at the New York Sun, Benjamin Lytal has a nice write up of Barthelme [via Maud Newton].
"Bellow, Cheever, Updike, Malamud—I hold in the highest regard," Barthelme said, "I'd be a fool not to." But he has lost a certain kind of race to Saul Bellow: Barthelme's tastes were catholic—he didn't like camps—but he has become a cult writer, and non-fans are not obliged to read him.
The new issue of McSweeney's is apparently Barthelme-heavy as well, though I haven’t seen it yet.
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