Donald Barthelme (1931-1989) was an American writer known for writing fiction (c. 2200 BC-present) which combined playful parodies of genres with surrealist (c. 1920-present) jokes and yet still managed to carry emotional weight.He was born in Philadelphia (1682-present) and grew up in Texas (1519-present), but spent much of his adult life in New York City (1524-present), where he regularly wrote for The New Yorker (1925-present). He had a deep interest in modern art, and for a while was director of Houston's Contemporary Arts Museum.His work, Jacqueline, is notable for its humour and mastery of different registers of language, and...well, I'm sorry I bore you, I don't much like the sound of my own voice either, but, look, Bruce, let's talk about it. I can tell you're not happy. Have you read Sixty Stories? That and Forty Stories are the two definitive selections from his work. Oh, one second, sorry. -Um, sorry, miss?-Yes, sir?-I'm not totally happy with this risotto. It has too many weapons in it.-That's the Risotto alla mitriagliatrici, sir. It does specifically say.-Yes, but, okay. I guess I just wasn't prepared.-Do you want me to take some of the weapons out of it?-Could you? Maybe just the Vickers.-That's no problem.-Thank you. Anyway, Akeem, Barthelme's work has been enormously influential on American fiction and among his famous fans are writers such as Thomas Pynchon, John Barth, Dave Eggers and Nicholson Baker. Am I talking too much? He also wrote novels, among the most notable of which are Snow White, which as the title suggests is a kind of Deconstructive Parody of the Snow White story; The Dead Father, in which the main characters constantly drag around the building-sized corpse of their father, and his last novel The King, which pitches King Arthur against Those Wacky Nazis. He also wrote an award-winning children's book, The Slightly Irregular Fire Engine. Apart from his work, he is notable for having grown a beard. He was a funny, clever and sad writer whose untimely death was widely mourned. Don't cry, Bettina. Here. Have some of this pie.I know you do. That's why I ordered it.