I'm World-famous ... All Over

Mr. Bernard Died On A Monday, At The Age Of Seventy-five, His Body Wasted. He Lay In State For Two Days In The Lobby Of The Bernard Gursky Tower And, As He Failed To Rise On The Third, He Was Duly Buried.

I'm World-famous ... All Over Canada.

The Revolution Eats Its Own. Capitalism Re-creates Itself.

Well, When I Was A Young Writer The People We Read Were Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Sartre, Camus, Celine, Malraux. And To Begin With, I Was A Bit Of A Copycat Writer And Very Derivative And Tried To Write A Novel Using Their Voices, Really.... I Keep It Out Of Print.

If You're Writing A Novel, You're In A Room For Three Or Four Years. There's Not Much Coming In From The Outside.