Barth's lively, highly original collection of short pieces is a major landmark of experimental fiction. Though many of the stories gathered here were published separately, there are several themes common to them all, giving them new meaning in the context of this collection.
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Browse our Bookshelf Favorites store for big savings on popular fiction, nonfiction, children's books, and more. |
Book Description
Frequently Bought Together
Editorial Reviews
From the Publisher
Barth's lively, highly original collection of short pieces is a major landmark of experimental fiction. Though many of the stories gathered here were published separately, there are several themes common to them all, giving them new meaning in the context of this collection.
From the Inside Flap
Barth's lively, highly original collection of short pieces is a major landmark of experimental fiction. Though many of the stories gathered here were published separately, there are several themes common to them all, giving them new meaning in the context of this collection.
Product Details
Would you like to update product info or give feedback on images? |
More About the Author
Discover books, learn about writers, read author blogs, and more.
Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
8 of 8 people found the following review helpful
By Jonathon
Format:Paperback
Lost in the Funhouse can be a very bewildering and irritating collection if you aren't in the right mood for it. If you aren't well-versed in post-modern fiction (barthelme, calvino, etc are good reference points) you might want to start somewhere else first. Even Barth's novels are more immediately digestible.
With that said, though, this collection doesn't really operate on one consistent level. Perhaps this is because many of these stories were written by Barth much earlier in his career. The three stories concerning Ambrose's birth and development are very straightforward and enjoyable on a surface level until the whole series goes flying into left-field with the titular "Lost in the Funhouse" story (which Barth is probably most known for). From that point on, most of the stories are more about the process of writing and the relationship between the reader, writer, and the characters. Stories like "Title" and "Life-Story" work more as essays on the nature of fiction than actual works of fiction, and were (for me at least) a little tedious. The best moments occur when Barth combines his thoughful analysis on the nature of writing and art with a really good ground-situation, typically based on Greek mythology. The best of these are the utterly raunchy "Petitition" and the labyrinthine "Menelaiad".
Taken as a whole, though, Lost in the Funhouse is greatly satisfying, even if (like me) you really only understood about 20% of what Barth was talking about on your first read-through. It's the sort of book I'll go back to again and again to try and delve deeper into the mystery of the funhouse while appreciating all over the hilarious bawdy humor.
Oh, and make sure to read Barth's seven additional notes at the front of the book (though maybe only after you've read the story that is being discussed in each note, so as not to ruin the initial experience)-- they really help to clarify some of Barth's intentions. I can't even imagine appreciating a story like "Glossolalia" without having read the note concerning it.
With that said, though, this collection doesn't really operate on one consistent level. Perhaps this is because many of these stories were written by Barth much earlier in his career. The three stories concerning Ambrose's birth and development are very straightforward and enjoyable on a surface level until the whole series goes flying into left-field with the titular "Lost in the Funhouse" story (which Barth is probably most known for). From that point on, most of the stories are more about the process of writing and the relationship between the reader, writer, and the characters. Stories like "Title" and "Life-Story" work more as essays on the nature of fiction than actual works of fiction, and were (for me at least) a little tedious. The best moments occur when Barth combines his thoughful analysis on the nature of writing and art with a really good ground-situation, typically based on Greek mythology. The best of these are the utterly raunchy "Petitition" and the labyrinthine "Menelaiad".
Taken as a whole, though, Lost in the Funhouse is greatly satisfying, even if (like me) you really only understood about 20% of what Barth was talking about on your first read-through. It's the sort of book I'll go back to again and again to try and delve deeper into the mystery of the funhouse while appreciating all over the hilarious bawdy humor.
Oh, and make sure to read Barth's seven additional notes at the front of the book (though maybe only after you've read the story that is being discussed in each note, so as not to ruin the initial experience)-- they really help to clarify some of Barth's intentions. I can't even imagine appreciating a story like "Glossolalia" without having read the note concerning it.
8 of 9 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
In his introduction to this collection of tales, John Barth warns that writing shorting stories isn't his strong suit; he'd rather write novels. Well, I thought, you don't have to read the goat entrails to see this isn't an auspicious augur since *reading* short stories isn't my mine; I prefer novels. Could it be worse? As writer and reader we were perfectly matched: that is, perfectly wrong for each other. What a surprise then! Turns out either writer and/or reader were both happily mistaken and/or correct yet fortuitously found the slim exception to the rule. *Lost in the Funhouse* is a remarkable book--a stunning sampling of erudition, wit, originality, and linguistic pyrotechnics of such deft complexity I dare you not to get lost at least half a dozen times and I double-dare you not to laugh out loud at least as many.
Be forewarned: these aren't the O Henry! type short stories of your grandpappy's day--the kind with clear-cut beginnings, waistlines, and back ends. They aren't cluttered with all those moth-ridden, mold-covered boxes of conceptual costumes from the prehistory of narrative: stuff like character, conflict, setting, dramatic progression, etc. If you're looking for Hemingway or Steinbeck, read Hemingway or Steinbeck. There are characters in Barth's fiction--"voices" properly speaking--but who are they, who are you, who is the author? There is a setting--but exactly where is it, where is anything, are we only *just* imagining it all? There is a story, of sorts--but it's fractured, inconsistent, starts somewhere, progresses a while and could end, like life, like this sentence, at any time, anywhere.
The subjects of these stories are as wildly unlikely as the method of their telling, including: a sperm's journey; Menelaus and Helen after the Trojan War; a young boy's surrealistic experience in a decrepit funhouse by the shore. The stories are linked, so says their author, but only in the most oblique of ways, so says this reader. But it's not important--they each stand alone, linked most obviously by Barth's main concern: the difficulty--if not the sheer impossibility--of telling a simple story at all, of getting at the truth, or the fiction.
Many will be perplexed beyond all patience with *Lost in the Funhouse,* others will dismiss it as self-conscious postmodern prattle, but those who keep going through this maze of distorting mirrors, secret passages, creepy terrors, and ribald comedy will find themselves passing themselves in opposite directions, mystified, charmed, and not a little disconcerted. Barth tells a complex story by *not* telling a story better than most writers tell a story. He clearly knows his way around the conventions and uses them to illustrate how utterly inadequate the conventions are to describing our experience. Barth doesn't bring you to the end or even back to the beginning; he brings you back to the middle which is where you showed up in the first place, exactly where you were when you first realized you were lost.
You can't reader yourself out of this funhouse no more than Barth could write himself out of it and it's at that point you can begin to relax and enjoy the goofy, cheesy horror of it all.
Be forewarned: these aren't the O Henry! type short stories of your grandpappy's day--the kind with clear-cut beginnings, waistlines, and back ends. They aren't cluttered with all those moth-ridden, mold-covered boxes of conceptual costumes from the prehistory of narrative: stuff like character, conflict, setting, dramatic progression, etc. If you're looking for Hemingway or Steinbeck, read Hemingway or Steinbeck. There are characters in Barth's fiction--"voices" properly speaking--but who are they, who are you, who is the author? There is a setting--but exactly where is it, where is anything, are we only *just* imagining it all? There is a story, of sorts--but it's fractured, inconsistent, starts somewhere, progresses a while and could end, like life, like this sentence, at any time, anywhere.
The subjects of these stories are as wildly unlikely as the method of their telling, including: a sperm's journey; Menelaus and Helen after the Trojan War; a young boy's surrealistic experience in a decrepit funhouse by the shore. The stories are linked, so says their author, but only in the most oblique of ways, so says this reader. But it's not important--they each stand alone, linked most obviously by Barth's main concern: the difficulty--if not the sheer impossibility--of telling a simple story at all, of getting at the truth, or the fiction.
Many will be perplexed beyond all patience with *Lost in the Funhouse,* others will dismiss it as self-conscious postmodern prattle, but those who keep going through this maze of distorting mirrors, secret passages, creepy terrors, and ribald comedy will find themselves passing themselves in opposite directions, mystified, charmed, and not a little disconcerted. Barth tells a complex story by *not* telling a story better than most writers tell a story. He clearly knows his way around the conventions and uses them to illustrate how utterly inadequate the conventions are to describing our experience. Barth doesn't bring you to the end or even back to the beginning; he brings you back to the middle which is where you showed up in the first place, exactly where you were when you first realized you were lost.
You can't reader yourself out of this funhouse no more than Barth could write himself out of it and it's at that point you can begin to relax and enjoy the goofy, cheesy horror of it all.
13 of 17 people found the following review helpful
By A Customer
Format:Paperback
In his story, "The Immortal," Jorge Luis Borges describes a
labyrinth as "a structure compounded to confuse men; its
architecture, rich in symmetries, is subordinated to that end."*
Similarly, the stories of Barth's collection _Lost in the Funhouse_,
present a labyrinth of narrative fiction, in their exploration
of the story as medium, voice, and tool of the magician. The
fourteen stories, reflecting Barth's idea of a narrative as
a structure, take the varied forms of Mobius strip, letter,
autobiography, and tale; what makes for additional complexity,
is the insistence by each of the stories' characters (who include
a siamese twin, heroes of the Odyssey,and an abandoned court
minstrel) to have his or her say. Inherent in this is Barth's
insistence on the infinite number of possible constructions
of a narrative, which stun the reader through his descriptions,
plot lines (knots, in some cases), and ideas. Read _Lost
in the Funhouse_ to witness Barth's magic, and to be reminded
of the combined power of voice and language, storytelling.
*(Jorge Luis Borges, "The Immortal," _Labyrinths_: New Directions
Books, 1962.)
labyrinth as "a structure compounded to confuse men; its
architecture, rich in symmetries, is subordinated to that end."*
Similarly, the stories of Barth's collection _Lost in the Funhouse_,
present a labyrinth of narrative fiction, in their exploration
of the story as medium, voice, and tool of the magician. The
fourteen stories, reflecting Barth's idea of a narrative as
a structure, take the varied forms of Mobius strip, letter,
autobiography, and tale; what makes for additional complexity,
is the insistence by each of the stories' characters (who include
a siamese twin, heroes of the Odyssey,and an abandoned court
minstrel) to have his or her say. Inherent in this is Barth's
insistence on the infinite number of possible constructions
of a narrative, which stun the reader through his descriptions,
plot lines (knots, in some cases), and ideas. Read _Lost
in the Funhouse_ to witness Barth's magic, and to be reminded
of the combined power of voice and language, storytelling.
*(Jorge Luis Borges, "The Immortal," _Labyrinths_: New Directions
Books, 1962.)
Most Recent Customer Reviews
4.0 out of 5 stars
Keep reading past the first chapter
When you start reading this, you will be confused. Very confused. The first chapter is from the point of view of a (try reading it first, then google it). Read more
Published 3 months ago by Jenn
5.0 out of 5 stars
So inspiring
Literary experimentalism has rarely been practiced so consciously and creatively. This book is one of those that are in the canon for a multitude of good reasons. Read more
Published 4 months ago by Nuri K
1.0 out of 5 stars
Good stories; terrible service
This collection of short stories is fantastic. The writing itself is wonderful and insightful. Unfortunately, Audible is not. Read more
Published 14 months ago by Rachel
4.0 out of 5 stars
Metafictions "R" US
Lost in the Funhouse is a fearless short story collection where subject matter is constantly inverted from the norm and readers are meant to be teased. Read more
Published 15 months ago by Fast Food Blogger
3.0 out of 5 stars
Baffling, though thin
This collection of stories has become a paradigmatic example of post-modernist fiction. Barth's stylish wit is a wild blend of self-reflexive "meta-fiction," accompanied by bizarre... Read more
Published on December 29, 2010 by Steiner
4.0 out of 5 stars
the way we tell stories
Taken both separately and as an arranged series, these 14 stories explore the relationships between narrative, life, knowledge, creation, self and being. Read more
Published on March 6, 2007 by nonlinearize
3.0 out of 5 stars
Maybe not as bad as I originally thought
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... Read more
Published on January 12, 2003
5.0 out of 5 stars
Stretching short stories
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 . . . Read more
Published on October 6, 2002 by Michael Battaglia
5.0 out of 5 stars
laizzez-faire postmodernism
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. Read more
Published on June 5, 2000
3.0 out of 5 stars
Takes you through a journey like no other, a great trip
Barth is truly a genius. He takes the reader through a labrynith of sorts and keeps you on your toes. If you like a challenge this book provides one. Read more
Published on April 4, 1999
What Other Items Do Customers Buy After Viewing This Item?
Sell a Digital Version of This Book in the Kindle Store
If you are a publisher or author and hold the digital rights to a book, you can sell a digital version of it in our Kindle Store.
Learn more
Listmania!
|
|
