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[Who is this "I"?],
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I, in Proteus's terrifying last disguise,
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Beauty" spouse"s,
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odd Elysium: the absurd,
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unending possibility of love.
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If you think that Barth in all his heady, intellectual,
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canonical difficulty is
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uninterested in the world outside of his fiction,
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I think you could argue that it's on this notion of desire that he stakes
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his work's connection to the world.
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And the echo of that desire is, I would say, pleasure: something
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like, in this case, Nabokov's aesthetic bliss,