reality to be entertaining. I use this reasoning often; it's my 'if I wanted to see gritty reality I'd take a walk down East Hastings' explanation. However, many of my favorite books and movies are attempts to depict real life. For example, my favorite film ever, Withnail and I, is an uncomfortably black british comedy about nothing. But it's a sublime nothing. It's an exceptional treatment of two nothings and their nothing vacation. I don't demand happy endings from the novels I read, neither do I expect them to be filled with action and extraordinary occurences. I do expect, however, that if a novelist attempts to depict real life he will do it in an extraordinary manner, that something will rise from the depicted tedium of everyday human existence and cause me to think and feel differently about something. In films, books etc. I expect mundanity to be special.
In my opinion, this is where Arlt misses the mark. In my opinion, his treatment of real-life is ordinary at best.
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