ellauri069.html on line 93: It can certainly look, in short, as though Barthelme, like Warhol, were simply dropping the question of whether something counts as literature or not, since markers of the literary are impossible to find in his writing. The high-art traditionalist has no place to hang his beret. Daugherty’s purpose is to convince us that this was not Barthelme’s intention.
ellauri069.html on line 115: “The aim of literature,” says a character in “Florence Green Is 81,” one of Barthelme’s first published stories, “is the creation of a strange object covered with fur which breaks your heart.”
ellauri069.html on line 120: He thought S. J. Perelman was a genius. Perelman, sadly, did not think much of Barthelme’s work.
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