At once a family memoir, a meditation on mortality, a celebration of art, an argument with and about God, and a homage to the French writer Jules Renard, this exchange between Barnes and his philosopher brother is a fascinating tour of the mind of one of our most brilliant writers.
I don't believe in God, but I miss Him. This book is, among many things, a family memoir, an exchange with Barnes' brother (a philosopher), a meditation on mortality and the fear of death, a celebration of art, an argument with and about God, and a homage to the French writer Jules Renard. Though he warns us that "this is not my autobiography," the result is a tour of the mind of one of our most brilliant writers.
