Barnes' Revenge

Flaubert clearly did not want anyone to know anything about him. He wanted his literature to speak for itself, not for himself. However, I wonder how successful he has actually been. Was it possible for Flaubert to write without inserting a little bit of himself into his stories? It seems to me that even though Flaubert was a writer, and obviously enjoyed, to some degree, his work, he struggled with his writing. As Barnes says on Page 26: "He might agonise over the word, the phrase, the assonance, but her never endures a writer's block." I have this idea that he would write and re-write to attain perfection, but it was never perfect enough for him. Personally, I think I would just give up if I had to constantly pay enough attention to detail as to be like a mirror, but completely disregard emotion. I really don't understand his contradictory style.
Perhaps Barnes truly did do Flaubert a disservice by giving us all of this information to contemplate. I really wish the letters were non-fictional. I mean, it's just sooo funny, thinking about this bald, American sitting across from Barnes and confessing he simply burned the letters. THE LETTERS! that gave insight to Flaubert's soul and his passions and his love! A true Flaubertian spirit must have been reincarnated to posses Ed's soul for a moment as he contemplated taking the letters to England and selling them to Barnes so he could wriggle out of debt. The author must have re-possessed at least his hands as he lit the fire in Ed's house and tossed them in, laughing outwardly, but secretly cursing Juliet's folly.