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jakekilroy's review
5.0
For a long time, it was hard for me to consider a Bukowski book of poetry. In every one I had read previously, there were poems I thought kicked the shit out of everything else ever written, and then there'd be poems where I thought he mailed it in. Maybe it was because this was the longest collection of his I've ever read, as it seemed truly unending, but it all finally looked like pieces of a puzzle of a man. The bad poems seemed to connect, as if Bukowski had faith in artistic transparency, teling his readers, "Hey, this is everything. This is all I have."
After enough Bukowski, a reader can anticipate him. He gambles at the horse tracks, he's always involved in some weird relationship with a woman that reeks of desperation, he can't stand the upstarts, he acknowledges his fame, he listens to classical music, he watches the city breathe, sure. But the list grows longer and longer. It finally becomes this breathtaking observation of everything and nothing. It's an astounding beliefe that life can be documented and written about in poetry. He'll write about the grocery store, he'll write about dinner parties, he'll write about writing. Maybe I just needed the entire breadth of it in one book, but, for the first time, it felt like a conversation.
After enough Bukowski, a reader can anticipate him. He gambles at the horse tracks, he's always involved in some weird relationship with a woman that reeks of desperation, he can't stand the upstarts, he acknowledges his fame, he listens to classical music, he watches the city breathe, sure. But the list grows longer and longer. It finally becomes this breathtaking observation of everything and nothing. It's an astounding beliefe that life can be documented and written about in poetry. He'll write about the grocery store, he'll write about dinner parties, he'll write about writing. Maybe I just needed the entire breadth of it in one book, but, for the first time, it felt like a conversation.
ltwardwriter's review against another edition
2.0
After hearing that I had to read Bukowski to understand contemporary poetry, I disagree. The level of misogyny to tolerate should come with trigger warnings. I gave the book two stars as the beginning pieces were well-written. I considered one star, but there was skill there. The content, it deserved barely a star.
As you read the poems, racism, sexism, and an overall indulgent attitude are themes. Bukowski was a man depressed. He thought of himself as brilliant and misunderstood. Yes, he had an abhorrent childhood (some of his better poems as they were emotional, but still beware that he wrote all women as sex objects or cruel idiots or both). However, it was tiresome and infuriating that a consistent theme to his poetry is that he was underappreciated and everyone else was horrible. Everyone. When he wrote of wanting to rape a woman (which he noted in at least two poems directly), it was awful that the people around her got in his way. How dare they! When something terrible happened to another, he wrote that they deserved it or that was the way life went. When he addressed his drinking, it was sexy and made him stronger. A man's man. No, he was a misogynist who could write some prose.
Except dogs. Bukowski wrote lovely things about dogs.
There were also a few pieces that addressed his self-hatred. Those poems, he was vulnerable and bared his weakness and humanity. Those are not the majority of the poems in this collection.
While Bukowski's earlier pieces in the book were poetic, his later ones were flash fiction that weren't fiction as much sparse anecdotes. To credit him as anything but a before-his-time blogger for those works negates the effort and talent required of true poets. It actually negates the skills he exhibited in his own earlier works. I fully agree his earlier poems were actual poems. They held rhythms and beats, nuances that pulled emotions from the reader. His later 'poems' were not. Just a man spouting his opinions in a short format without trying in any way to connect with a reader.
Unless you're required to read this as a part of a literary education, just don't. You'll be better off if you avoid this dark, misogynistic nightmare.
As you read the poems, racism, sexism, and an overall indulgent attitude are themes. Bukowski was a man depressed. He thought of himself as brilliant and misunderstood. Yes, he had an abhorrent childhood (some of his better poems as they were emotional, but still beware that he wrote all women as sex objects or cruel idiots or both). However, it was tiresome and infuriating that a consistent theme to his poetry is that he was underappreciated and everyone else was horrible. Everyone. When he wrote of wanting to rape a woman (which he noted in at least two poems directly), it was awful that the people around her got in his way. How dare they! When something terrible happened to another, he wrote that they deserved it or that was the way life went. When he addressed his drinking, it was sexy and made him stronger. A man's man. No, he was a misogynist who could write some prose.
Except dogs. Bukowski wrote lovely things about dogs.
There were also a few pieces that addressed his self-hatred. Those poems, he was vulnerable and bared his weakness and humanity. Those are not the majority of the poems in this collection.
While Bukowski's earlier pieces in the book were poetic, his later ones were flash fiction that weren't fiction as much sparse anecdotes. To credit him as anything but a before-his-time blogger for those works negates the effort and talent required of true poets. It actually negates the skills he exhibited in his own earlier works. I fully agree his earlier poems were actual poems. They held rhythms and beats, nuances that pulled emotions from the reader. His later 'poems' were not. Just a man spouting his opinions in a short format without trying in any way to connect with a reader.
Unless you're required to read this as a part of a literary education, just don't. You'll be better off if you avoid this dark, misogynistic nightmare.
michelle_butler_hallett's review
4.0
I need to read these poems again, many times over, but beneath a certain meanness and self-loathing, I found moments of pleading beauty. Several of the poems are rattling about my head, echoes rising and falling like some train passing near. Bukowski has a startling voice; above all, I can smell his poetry.
cmleejim's review
5.0
So far my favorite collection of poetry.
'I have killed a fly, that tiny piece of life, dead like dead love'
Wow
'I have killed a fly, that tiny piece of life, dead like dead love'
Wow
scantrons's review
5.0
My absolute favorite Bukowski book. People say he's overrated and too popular now days, and he is...he would have HATED the popularity he's managed to master in death. I appreciate him for what he is: a lowlife waste-less drunk. I respect him for that.
shewantsthediction's review against another edition
dark
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Animal death, Misogyny, Sexual content, and Toxic relationship
Moderate: Ableism, Mental illness, and Vomit
Minor: Cancer, Racism, and Excrement