I started to e s pieces o e a novel in. So t I did inside it and it ed trajectory of t narrative concentrates its meaning. Sign and sense can fuse to an extent impossible to aciplying ambiguities of an extended narrative. I found t, to fascinate me, I  so mucractions from ting, tales.

    t took me a long time to realise ales, tales of ales of terror, fabulous narratives t deal directly ernalised self; forsaken castles; ed forests; forbidden sexual objects. Formally tale differs from t story in t it makes feences at tation of life. tale does not log everyday experience, as t story does; it interprets everyday experience tem of imagery derived from subterranean areas beale cannot betray its readers into a false knowledge of everyday experience.

    tradition in ems of our institutions; it deals entirely s great t and cannibalism. Cer and events are exaggerated beyond reality, to become symbols, ideas, passions. Its style end to be ornate, unnatural -- and te against to believe t. Its only  retains a singular moral function -- t of provoking unease.

    tale ions erary forms of pornograp  been dealt erati. And is it any  us keep tcase, as Pere Ubu did  doory s too troublesome.

    So I ales. I o England in 1972. I found myself in a nery. It  imes. Noo understand and to interpret is t my metigation is cories ten beten. tribute to Defoe, fated in tory quot;Masterquot;.