As literature has evolved or developed in the late twentieth century, it is undeniable that writers such as John Barth have chosen the issue of metafiction in their works. Furthermore, it can be argued that Barth generates his work on the basis of self-consciousness. In addition, he uses self-conscious techniques. Therefore, I am going to evaluate the perception of self-hood, self-consciousness and the self-conscious techniques that are used in 'Lost in the Funhouse' that allow metafiction to take place. Similarly, I am going to support my analysis with the previous critic’s arguments. For example, I am going to identify originality and authorship that is acknowledged by John Barth. Likewise, I am going to evaluate how Waugh believes that language is used in order to construct reality.
, Carmichael (2006) propounds that Barth’s work is the “Manipulation of narrative voices to dramatize Barth’s continuing concern about values, action, and the absence of sustaining order in the world” (p.1). This implies that ‘Lost in the Funhouse’ can be conveyed to be an adventure, on the quest for identity. Furthermore, in relation to the quest for identity the adventure could be known as an escapade with regards to the self. Congruently, Martin (1997) establishes Ambrose to be a form of artist. In this respect, I agree with Martin (1997) because Ambrose could be compared to an artist that is creating a canvas for the reader. In other words, Ambrose is creating a personal realm for the reader to observe. Correspondingly, it can be argues that the reader has to accept Ambrose’s personal realm. Similarly, Martin (1997) propounds “The artist, like the pubescent youth, is haunted by the assumption that others are aware of ones every thought, idea, emotion, and intention” (p.153). In other words, Ambrose is constantly aware of the devices that he uses throughout the story, in the same way as an artist would be constantly be questioning the choice of colour in a painting.
In addition, it can be argued that Ambrose is exploring both his past and his future with the aim of creating order in his life (Martin 1997). For example, on entering the funhouse Ambrose realizes his inexperience with sexuality. In addition, he does not understand the bodily changes as he develops sexually. This implies that his sexual drives force him to focus on the opposite sex, such as Magda. An example, of this could be the repeated line “…whose figure is exceedingly well developed for her age” (Barth 1972:79). With regards to Waugh’s (1995) and (2003) criticism, it can be argued that as the reader comes to realize that Ambrose is conveying a recount of his past, the reader must question the sense of reality. When exploring this concept, Baudrillard (ND) denotes “Simulators attempt to make the real, all the real” (p.2). In other words, Ambrose is the simulator attempting to convey Magda as a real woman. However, this could imply that Magda was not a well-developed girl at all. Therefore, it is Ambrose recount that s denoting her physical appearance. In comparison, Martin (1997) propounds “In order to portray reality the author must employ artificial techniques. Doing so the author is anxious that the reader may be all too aware of his faltering attempts” (p.153). This implies that Magda is a construct of the hyper-real. Therefore, the funhouse metaphorically represents the confusion and self-consciousness of an adolescent.
Overall, when examining Ambrose’s relationship with the funhouse it can be argued that he has the role of an artist who must create the mazes and fictional devices in order to portray reality (Martin 1997). Therefore, he is an artist seeking to design a maze of fictional devices whilst struggling to convey reality (Worthington 2001).
“Lost in the Funhouse” is a short story in John Barth’s book of the same name, originally published in 1968. The stories within this collection are typically approached as postmodern due to their self-reflexivity, their self-awareness, and their use of self-reference. The short story “Life in the Funhouse,” in particular, is known for its active destabilization of truth, linearity, and structure, and it is an ideal text to study when engaging in the frustrating exercise of defining postmodernity as it pertains to the study of literary texts.
Plot-wise, not much occurs within this narrative. In a nutshell, a teenage boy named Ambrose travels with his family to Ocean City, Maryland, where they spend most of their time sunbathing at the beach, going on amusement park rides, and entertaining themselves with games at the Ocean City boardwalk. Ambrose is nervous because he really likes this girl named Magda, and wants to develop the courage to confess his love for her. Although he eventually invites Magda to go into a funhouse with him, Magda eventually trails off with Ambrose’s brother, Peter, leaving him alone and isolated within the dark confines of the funhouse. The rest of the narrative traces Ambrose’s thoughts and dissatisfaction caused not only by his inability to express his feelings, but also by his inability to escape from the funhouse.
This plot, however, constitutes a really small part of the narrative. “Lost in the Funhouse” is peppered with moments of self-reflexivity and meta-awareness, and the narrator often deviates from the plot in order to make claims regarding the intricacies of language, the difficulties of writing, and the impossibility of literary innovation. Within this narrative, we have a triangulation of three perspectives: the perspective of the protagonist, the perspective of the author, and the perspective of the speaker/narrator (who also shares most of the meta-fictional elements within the short story). Given the fact that this text is a meta-fiction, the elements within the story should be approached not only by how they develop the plot, but also by their commentary as pertaining to the acts of writing and reading fiction. This is particularly why close-reading and deconstruction are crucial in terms of determining what the text is trying to achieve. In an attempt to highlight the complexity and richness of this story, let me turn my attention to unpacking the following passage:
One reason for not writing a lost-in-the-funhouse story is that either everybody’s felt what Ambrose feels, in which case it goes without saying, or else no normal person feels such things, in which case Ambrose is a freak. “Is anything more tiresome, in fiction, than the problems of sensitive adolescents?” And it’s all too long and rambling, as if the author. For all a person knows the first time through, the end could be just around the corner; perhaps, not impossibly it’s been within the reach any number of times. On the other hand he may be scarcely past the start, with everything yet to get through, an intolerable idea. (88)
Although plot-wise there is an actual or concrete funhouse, the term is also being invoked as a symbol for narrative, fiction, or perhaps even the mind of the protagonist. “Lost in the Funhouse” is an exploratory narrative that delves into the woes that Ambrose faces when analyzing his own precociousness, and when confronting the confusing and contradictory issues that arise when one grows up–making the story, in essence, a coming-of-age narrative. In the passage above, the narrator uses quotation marks to bring up the tired and overwrought nature of the coming-of-age genre. Furthermore, the quote asks readers to reflect on how sensitive protagonists within this genre suffer from the woes of over-thinking, and how they often share thoughts that are deemed to be too advanced or “unrealisitic” given the protagonist’s age.
It becomes important to question why Barth shares this critique of the “lost-in-the-funhouse” narrative when the story itself incorporates every single element that is critiqued: the protagonist of the story is a sensitive character, who often offers long, rambling, and contradictory interpretations of himself and the people that surround him. The text explores the perceived incongruity of sensitive adolescents expressing ideas that surpass their faculties, at least within fiction: “Is it likely, does it violate the principle of verisimilitude, that a thirteen-year-old boy could make such a sophisticated observation?” (70). Despite this questioning, the protagonist still engages with intense philosophical and existential ideas, leading the reader to come with their own answers to the aforementioned question. Not only can this be approached as an attempt to destabilize stereotypes in terms of what adolescents are or are not capable of deliberating, but it also pushes the reader to question the foundations that generate these so-called truisms and verisimilitudes. Is it possible for a teen to conceive of sophisticated ideas? Is there a specific age that a person must reach before being able to formulate complex ideas?
It can be said that the narrator considers the coming-of-age genre to be important or useful given its universality, but at the same time, the text makes overt critiques on the use of conventions and patterns to portray universal themes. Growth, development, and linearity (both from a textual and non-textual perspective) are thus prominent themes that are scrutinized within the depths of the funhouse.
Figure 1. This graphic is a replication of the diagram found in page 91 of “Lost in the Funhouse,” in which the narrator discusses the general pattern that most fictional narratives follow: exposition, conflict, complication, climax, and resolution.
The narrator of the story makes a critique of patterns by illustrating the conventions that narratives usually appropriate in order to assure that they are effective. The text painstakingly depicts the usual structures and conventions that narratives employ to deliver a story (see Figure 1). “Lost in the Funhouse” deviates immensely from the conventional and linear plot, and it is self aware of this deviation: “The beginning should recount the events between Ambrose’s first sight of the funhouse early in the afternoon and his entering it with Magda and Peter in the evening. The middle would narrate all relevant events from the time he loses his way; middles have the double and contradictory function of delaying the climax while at the same time preparing the reader for it” (74). Although the narrator stresses that this is how stories should be structured, “Lost in the Funhouse” deliberately refutes these conventions by delivering a narrative with a prolonged exposition that is contradictory and that does not follow typical patterns of resolution. Details of the plot’s so-called climax, introduction, and conclusion are also scrambled throughout the text, and are not found within the expected locations. Although the narrator admits that this deviation forsakes “the effects of drama” that are possible in the short story, he also makes it clear that this deviation of narrative conventions “can better effect” the dramatic possibilities of the story (91).
With this in mind, it can be argued that the narrator is not necessarily refuting the importance of fiction with sensitive adolescents, but rather, he is contesting the usefulness of a linear narrative to do justice to the multifaceted, complicated, and fragmentary nature of the issues that are faced during the coming-of-age process. I thought this notion was particularly apparent as Ambrose ventures through the maze of mirrors in the funhouse. As Ambrose sees multiple selves being reflected as he tunnels through those mirrored paths, he realizes the futility of trying to approach the self as a single, atomized unit:
Stepping from the treacherous passage at last into the mirror-maze, he saw once again, more clearly than ever, how readily he deceived himself into supposing he was a person. He even foresaw, wincing at his dreadful self-knowledge, that he would repeat the deception, at ever-rarer intervals, all his wretched life, so fearful were the alternatives. (90)
The passage above is one of the most overt critiques on linearity, development, and the conventions that are usually invoked when writing developmental narratives. It attacks the notion of teleology and fulfillment, going as far as to argue that development is not always achieved by following points A to D. Furthermore, this passage refutes the notion of self-fulfillment by highlighting the cyclic nature and the folly of trying to pin down a clear and clean definition of the self. The self is always more fragmented and unreachable than narratives of development usually convey, and the self is always found in a state of constant change and growth. Thus, “Lost in the Funhouse” offers an alternative way of thinking about and approaching the process of development. The narrative implies that it would be foolish to approach an individual’s development through how well he or she complies with conventions of growth, maturation, and development–just as it would be equally foolish to judge this text by how well it adheres to narrative conventions.
When it comes to truth, perhaps the narrator is right when asserting that “we will never get out of the funhouse” (74).
Barth, John. Lost in the Funhouse. New York: Bantam Books, 1980. Print.