Angell had never displayed much interest in avant garde fiction, but Barthelme seemed to fit into The New Yorker’s fictional timeline quite neatly-providing a segue from the end of S. And the medley of feelings that strike an individual simply by walking up and down the same busy and always changing streets-sadness, joy, surprise, wonder, boredom, fear, anomie, angst-is just the emotional soundtrack that a typical Barthelme story requires. (mais…)