« Barth is reluctant to characterize Ten Nights as a major departure from his style. It may involve a new narrative approach, he says, but its two main characters are fighting an old battle. For most of his literary life, his characters have been confronting dead ends: writer's block, suicide, the end of modernism, the end of literature, Y2K. And by hook or by crook, digression, disguise, or transformation, they've kept telling their stories.
But through it all, Barth's scandalously comic, even bawdy, narrative tone has always been shadowed by its own vaguely apocalyptic outlook. His last comic novel, Coming Soon . . . !, for instance, was punctuated with several nightmarish litanies of things to keep you awake at night: cultural decline, global warming, Y2K, new and incurable diseases. So after 40 years of writing, Barth isn't inclined to change this outlook dramatically. When asked if Sept. 11 has affected him any differently than, say, the Cold War, Barth answers firmly.
"No," he writes. "In both cases, Apocalypse waits in the wings. But on the personal level, that's true for everybody everywhere all the time. So what else is new?"
In the interest of preventing large numbers of young writers from hanging themselves, it seems worthy to ask if a more positive spin were possible. Barth obliges, but his response doesn't exactly amount to a pep talk.
"My muse is indeed the one with the grin instead of the grimace," he writes. "But behind her loopy mask I incline to the Tragic View of nearly everything . . . always mindful (I would remind my students) that the Tragic View is not to be mistaken for Despair. All centuries are more or less disastrous; no reason to imagine that the 21st will be spared. Meanwhile, on with the story! As Wysiwig's pogrom-survivor grandma says, 'If we didn't laugh, we'd hang ourselves.'"
It's an approach that's been a fall-back for artists and writers for centuries. Barth says that, for his part, he finds particular comfort in Boccaccio's Decameron, in which characters respond to the Black Death by holing themselves up in a castle and holding storytelling contests, "making the best of a horror show they can do nothing about." For him, it's a running theme: people surviving cataclysms by telling stories. But Barth cautions that telling tales doesn't mean being oblivious.
"Indeed, Boccaccio's lords and ladies get criticized, not for fleeing a catastrophe that they can do nothing about, or for amusing themselves with the ribald stories while it runs its course, but [for] not acknowledging the dreadful context of their tale telling, even upon their return to plague-devastated Florence." »
http://www.citypaper.com/arts/story.asp?id=6216