All pages are intact, and the cover is intact. Dazed casino denizens, a lusty grocery-store manager, body-pierced children, and hourly employees in full revolt enhance the setting. Leaving this question for another time. The events are so well written that I had to take breaks and allow my stress levels to come down. The problem is--he's not very good at it. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 1998.
I've lost a decent amount of money gambling, which led me to read , which is essentially the nonfiction version of this book. Possible ex library copy, thatâll have the markings and stickers associated from the library. The more I think about it, the more I like it. The main action, the one remarkable day, takes place in the casino, and it brings the story to its high point. I don't know if I've ever before been so stressed out on a character's behalf. Bookseller: , New Jersey, United States Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997. They want it all to go back into one cup, so you feel like you're winning without an actual gauge.
Barthelme slyly explores any idea in this novel, I think it is that. Reading ''Bob the Gambler,'' in other words, has its rewards, but they are modest ones, as modest as the lives of the story's inhabitants. Of course, this is exactly what casinos don't really want you to do. I don't know if I've ever before been so stressed out on a character's behalf. He has moved away from the postmodern stylings of his older brother, Donald Barthelme, though his brother's influence can be seen in his earliest works, Rangoon and War and War. Please inquire for more detailed condition information. The writing style's usually very straightforward, but Barthelme's great at getting you into the narrator Ray's head especially in a few gambling scenes.
It's not an ugly book, but it did make me damned frustrated. They get further into debt. Tiny page bending on tips due to uneven pages of this book. In this darkly funny story, Ray and Jewel Kaiser try and push their luck at the Paradise casino. What attracts me and what emphasizes Barthelme's talent as a novelist is the choice to set the novel around the casino.
It's just a slow slide by two people who convince each other that they know what they're doing. It doesn't help that her parents are largely absent, spending their nights at Paradise. Barthelme's also very aware of the reader's expectations—if a character walks into a casino, we obviously assume they're either going to win big or lose hard—which he plays with pretty masterfully to create tension and, towards the end, explore bigger themes. Clear-sighted, decent Ray Kaiser narrates his sudden capitulation to the allure of Biloxi's Paradise Casino in Barthelme's Moon Deluxe; Painted Desert deftly comic and gently melancholic 11th book. Barthelme has staked out territory that for a less interesting writer would invite judgment, moralizing and a cautionary depiction of the horrors of a man and his family descending into an affliction fueled by loss of self control. Barthelme has staked out territory that for a less interesting writer would invite judgment, moralizing and a cautionary depiction of t I never read Frederick Barthelme before discovering and reading Bob the Gambler.
I didn't even feel some sly attempt on the author's part to moralize on a grand scale by some cinéma vérité omission of judgement and stark presentation of the realities of out of control, obsessive and self destructive gambling. They are never completely down and out, but there's no real promise they'll ever actually realize that why they're losing isn't because they aren't holding their noses right. But, my God, I wanted to drive straight to Biloxi or Tunica or anywhere that would trade cash for chips. Barthelme describes it all with the electron-microscope precision that has gained him his following. And probabilities were my favourite part of that class - and we went through most games of chance and looked at probabilities, and why, specifically, the house always wins - the ways in which games are subtly tilted so that the flow of money is always towards the house. Spending 18 hours at a time in the casino does nothing but increase his debts. They convince themselves that one big score will do it.
This is probably my favorite work I've read by Barthelme, and I think that this work emphasizes that his aesthetic is a kind of craft. The book settles in at three stars, thought, because the structure feels a bit off, with tangential chapters that don't go anywhere. The problem is--he's not very good at it. Dust jacket quality is not guaranteed. In their new simplicity, this besieged family finally finds that happiness is not in middle-class stability, nor in the quick fix of gambling's artificial Paradise, but in their everyday Edenic lives. Hardcover and dustwrapper, both a nice clean copy, like new.
Making larger bets does not make your base probabilities change. The wife first, then, the husband. Bookseller: , Washington, United States. From Kirkus Reviews Barthelme's latest exercise in existential pulse-taking Painted Desert, 1995, etc. I finally took it off the shelf this week and read it in three days, because the first person narrator is that immediately engaging. Barthelme's works are known for their focus on the landscape of the New South.
I've been in a casino exactly once my brother-in-law is a dealer at one. This is touching and revealing, but it also lacks so much in dramatic tension and in psychological pain that it comes across as sentimental. I have a hard time not wanting to shake people who gamble in desperate hopes of hitting it big and sit down and show them the math. Disclaimer:A copy that has been read, but remains in excellent condition. Does his aesthetic fundamentally adhere to an unsettling depiction of women? They convince themselves they know how to beat the house with positive thinking and large bets.
But this is one place where just a tiny bit of numeracy would help. . It is more the boredom of narrow horizons, of absences of interest in almost anything beyond their own hedged-in lives. And because some scenes played out so very similarly for Ray as they did for Barthelme, I couldn't help but cringe for him and his losses, for his bad decisions. Daylight was an unwelcome promise in the sky. I was a gambler with a fistful of cash receipts and a portable phone, and I was wandering around wishing I was an architect, a husband, an ordinary guy, a middle-class Ford-Explorer-driving guy with wife, child, dog, house.