SOUNDTRACK: THE BEATLES-Beatles for Sale (1964).
After the riotous fun of A Hard Day’s Night, I expected that this disc would not only continue the fun, but also be full of songs that I’d heard all the time on the radio.
But wow, this disc is kind of a downer. “I’m a Loser.” Really? It’s catchy as all get out but what happened to these guys in this last year? “Baby’s in Black.” Wow, these guys are serious now. The opener, “No Reply” is all about getting rejected. And “I’ll Follow the Sun” is about leaving and losing a friend.
But there are some good times as well. The cover of “Rock n Roll Music” is a little too stiff for such a rollicking song (kind of like how “Roll Over Beethoven was a little too stiff previously). But “Eight Days a Week” is a rocking good time. Fun for all and the first sign that the fun Beatles haven’t grown up completely.
The second half of the disc I barely recognized at all. One or two songs were kind of familiar, but I wasn’t singing along with abandon.
Yet despite my unfamiliarity, the disc shows remarkable progression in songwriting, in structure (and even recording techniques–again, the liner notes were really informative about the technology they used). I doubt many people consider this their favorite Beatles disc, but I think it’s a fine transition into what’s to come.
It’s also quite surprising to see how much their hair has grown in a year.
[READ: May 16, 2010] “Lost in the Funhouse”
I read this short story because it is something of the foundation of David Foster Wallace’s story “Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way.” This story is part of Barth’s larger collection also called Lost in the Funhouse. And, based on this story, I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the collection. But this story works in an of itself and, since it forms the backbone of the other story I’m going to mention it by itself.
This story is written in a thoroughly postmodern way. As the story opens, with the enigmatic line, “For whom is the funhouse fun?,” we are introduced to Ambrose. Ambrose has come with his family to the shore for “the holiday, the occasion of their visit is Independence Day, the most important secular holiday of the United States of America.”
Shortly after this italicized part, the story interrupts itself with this:
Italics are also employed, in fiction stories especially, for “outside,” intrusive, or artificial voices, such as radio announcements, the texts of telegrams and newspaper articles, et cetera. They should be used sparingly.
And so it goes with the rest of the story. The author (one assumes) interrupts the flow of the narrative, letting the reader know that there is far more at foot here than just the story of Ambrose at the beach.
The story eventually gets back to the matter at hand: Ambrose, his brother Peter and Peter’s girlfriend Magda are driving with Ambrose’ parents to Ocean City. This trip is made three times a year but this is the first time that Magda has come with them. They play car games (spot the towers), and generally act like a family on a long car trip.
At this point the author interrupts again to note that:
So far there’s been no real dialogue, very little sensory detail, and nothing in the way of a theme. And a long time has gone by already without anything happening; it makes a person wonder.
Oh, and all along it is quite apparent that Ambrose is, as the title suggests, lost in the funhouse at the beach.
When they finally arrive at the beach, there has been an oil spill and no one wants to swim, so they stay on the boardwalk (not under the boardwalk). Then the family decides to go for a swim in the pool. At which point the author jumps in again and stops the meandering:
There’s no point in going farther; this isn’t getting anybody anywhere; they haven’t even come to the funhouse yet. Ambrose is off the track, in some new or old part of the place that’s not supposed to be used; he strayed into it by some one-in-a-million chance….
When the funhouse is finally mentioned as an activity, there is general hilarity and nudging and winking about what happens in funhouses (which Ambrose is too young to understand). At this point, it’s worth noting that Ambrose has a pretty big crush on Magda. He has spent many an afternoon with her while the three of them were playing (although she clearly thinks nothing of it). When he suggests that he and Magda go in the funhouse together, everyone wonders what he’s thinking, but no one says anything (again, he’s too young).
Ultimately, the three kids make it to the funhouse, the entrance of which blows girls’ skirts up (and then Ambrose realizes the point of the funhouse!). And he realizes that the funhouse is not meant for him. And then he gets lost.
From there the story turns into fantasy, imagination and future possibilities.
It’s a fascinating piece of work. I certainly wouldn’t want all of my stories to be constructed in this way, but I really appreciate this point of view and the, in my opinion, funny intrusions that break the fourth wall.
For reasons I’m not entirely clear about, the whole story is available here as a Word doc.

We’re working through Wallace’s collection on wallace-l right now. We started at the end of the collection with Westward and are going backward to the beginning. This week we’re on “My Appearance.” I mention it just in case you’re interested in joining up to listen in (or to speak up).
Thanks Daryl.
I’d been meaning to sign up for wallace-l for ages, but Firefox kept giving me that warning so I never pursued it. I’m on now, and it has already impacted the post I’m doing for the book.
[…] is a sort of response/reply/nudging of Paul Barths’ “Lost in the Funhouse” (which I just read prior to reading […]
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