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>>I'll be joining the camp of message posters who are >>writing a dissertation, hoping that you enthusiasts >>will have an educated nibble at a dangled question... > >>Anything artistic is in a way avoiding life itself. >Yes it is in a way a cowrdice but if that gives you >pleasure why not? Are the others ones happier? Poor >Flaubert was described l'idiot de la famille by >Sartre. Wrote erased rewrote shed tears. He is my >loved one. I met Barnes at a literary festival of Hay >on Wye in Wales. We were introduced by common friends. >We talked for a while , He is a real gentleman. >Unpretentious and elegant. Unlike so many others that >go around these days with not much to show but >arrogant manners. He will be talking on a literary >festivel of Oxford on April 6. Try to stalk him there >if you can. >>I am looking at 'Flaubert's Parrot' and the statement >>it makes on the relationship between literature and >>the reader. Does it promote empathy, insight and a >>sense of life's possibilities? Or is it a ghetto for >>saddos who can't cope with the intimacies and >>complexities of real life? Although packaged up to >>sound more academic, naturally. Any resources or >>ramblings you'd care to supply would be received with >>rapture... >> >>How do you suppose one would actually be able to angle >>a conversation with Barnes, short of stalking? Is it >>worth sampling the delights of Swindon to see him at a >>literary festival I wonder? Musings on this subject, >>welcome too. >> >>Many thanks.

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