Like the title says, here are 40 short works culled from across Barthelme's career. Along with the similarly titled 60 Stories, this book provides one of the best samplings currently in print of Barthelme's unrivaled humor, his melancholy, the poetry of his line, and his considerable intellect. It includes pieces such as the famous "Sentence," (a single, several-page-long, unfinished sentence), "The Flight of Pigeons From the Palace," one of the writer's illustrated stories, and "Overnight To Many Distant Cities."


From Publishers Weekly
This collection of pithy, brilliantly acerbic pieces is a companion to Sixty Stories, Barthelme's earlier retrospective volume. Barthelme spotlights the idiosyncratic, haughty, sometimes downright ludicrous behavior of human beings, but it is style rather than content which takes precedence. He plunges into each situation without preamble, then utilizes sinewy, staccato prose to snare our attention. In "The Genius," a man of extraordinary intellect receives endless accolades and homage, but privately, he is just an eccentric inebriate who loathes children and totes important papers in a green Sears, Roebuck tool box. "Concerning the Bodyguard" is a fusillade of typically gossipy questions about those who shield the famous and mighty: "How much does pleasing matter?" "Is the bodyguard sufficiently well-paid?" "Is there a pension?" In "Conversations with Goethe," Barthelme dethrones the renowned German author, who here spouts comical aphorisms such as "Art is the four percent interest on the municipal bond of life," and "Actors are the Scotch weevils in the salt port of honest effort." As demonstrated throughout this volume, Barthelme's manner of expression is strikingly unique, and his insights are consistently on target. Copyright 1987 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Library Journal
Aficionados of the short story already know Barthelme for his prolific work and experimentation in this genre. Barthelme's earlier Sixty Stories ( LJ 10/1/81) is now joined by this collection of seven stories since published in The New Yorker and others left out of the earlier collection. Subjects range from Bluebeard the pirate to a fanciful porcupine roundup and the effects of genius to a couple's agony over losing their two-year-old son. As elsewhere, this is really a showcase for stylistic tinkering, e.g., "Concerning the Bodyguard" is told by repeated questioning. Not a necessary companion to Sixty Stories , but recommended for larger collections. Paul E. Hutchison, Pennsylvania State Univ., University ParkCopyright 1987 Reed Business Information, Inc.

ANNOTATION

The author's talent for creating the unexpected, and for rewriting the rules of the English language, has made him one of the most innovative and respected writers of the 20th century. This is another dazzling display of his unrivaled ability to surprise, to stimulate, and to explore.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

In Forty Stories we encounter a dazzling array of subjects: friend Colby - "now he'd gone too far so we'd decided to hang him" - Paul Klee, Goethe, Captain Blood, modern courtship, marriage and divorce, armadillos, the well-known "Porcupines at the University," and other unique Barthelme flights of fancy. In each case, Mr. Barthelme begins stories right at the heart of the matter, tangles with the ludicrous, poses questions that remain unresolved, challenges familiar bits of language that are hanging about unexamined - and always arrests our attention by insistently uncovering bits of light here and there.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

This collection of pithy, brilliantly acerbic pieces is a companion to Sixty Stories, Barthelme's earlier retrospective volume. Barthelme spotlights the idiosyncratic, haughty, sometimes downright ludicrous behavior of human beings, but it is style rather than content which takes precedence. He plunges into each situation without preamble, then utilizes sinewy, staccato prose to snare our attention. In ``The Genius,'' a man of extraordinary intellect receives endless accolades and homage, but privately, he is just an eccentric inebriate who loathes children and totes important papers in a green Sears, Roebuck tool box. ``Concerning the Bodyguard'' is a fusillade of typically gossipy questions about those who shield the famous and mighty: ``How much does pleasing matter?'' ``Is the bodyguard sufficiently well-paid?'' ``Is there a pension?'' In ``Conversations with Goethe,'' Barthelme dethrones the renowned German author, who here spouts comical aphorisms such as ``Art is the four percent interest on the municipal bond of life,'' and ``Actors are the Scotch weevils in the salt port of honest effort.'' As demonstrated throughout this volume, Barthelme's manner of expression is strikingly unique, and his insights are consistently on target. (September 30)

Library Journal