I usually make a point of finishing every book I start, no matter what. But I have to admit that I gave up on this one. Most of the short stories in the first half of the book are dull, and it’s hard to feel anything but boredom concerning the characters. The second half of the book is more experimental than the first part, but it lacks conviction or talent.

The guy says it himself in his introduction: he felt lousy not to have any of his stories published in an anthology of American short stories for students so he decided to write Lost in the Funhouse.

The experimental stories of the second half are not convincing. It’s like a teacher trying to have fun in front of all the school at a party just to show he can still be cool etc. but just makes a fool of himself.

The guys knows about writing so he applies a recipe. In my opinion, it doesn’t take.

The first half of the book was easy going and revealed Barth, whom I’d never read before, to be a surprisingly good storyteller. I have to admit that I found the second half to be quite abstruse and difficult. The book reminded me in some ways of “Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man,” and in other ways of the themes of depthlessness, exhaustion, and anxiety that seem to come up often in discussions of postmodern fiction.