nicholson baker

En la Paris Review del otoño 2011.

The last book in the old way is A Box of Matches, which is already much simpler. I thought at the time that it actually did things better than some of the earlier ones, although it's not as flashy. It was the end for me of fictionalized autobiography. Or was it? I'm fundamentally a first-person guy who yearns to be a third-person guy. I can't help it.


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