The End of the Story by Lydia Davis

I know nothing about Lydia Davis except what I was able to glean from the cover of her salmon-coloured book which I had in my hand just the once and from the table of contents within, which is that she is a highly praised writer of short stories, but being more of a reader of novels–I don’t dislike short stories so much as find them hard to keep hold of in my mind; I have enough trouble remembering novels–I naturally picked her sole novel instead, The End of the Story, and hope I will be able to get an appreciation of her style in her medium of non-choice and am not doing her a great disservice. Is that stupid? I think that might be a little stupid, like judging a sprinter by watching them run a marathon.

-Reading the Why

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