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theuncultured's review
5.0
"I am not a complete person—I am a stunted city person."
Henry Chinaski, you beautiful bastard. I am certain that there will never be a dull moment where Bukowski is concerned, and for that I give him all the stars and raise a fist to the dirty men who are rightfully tormented by modern society - as if the moral of today's world is to be the best version of whoever they want you to be, or to be nothing, cease existing and never write such a disgusting book (a tribute to almost everyone I know.)
Henry Chinaski, you beautiful bastard. I am certain that there will never be a dull moment where Bukowski is concerned, and for that I give him all the stars and raise a fist to the dirty men who are rightfully tormented by modern society - as if the moral of today's world is to be the best version of whoever they want you to be, or to be nothing, cease existing and never write such a disgusting book (a tribute to almost everyone I know.)
yaggayagga's review against another edition
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
jazsc's review
challenging
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
inescv's review against another edition
dark
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
1.5
Same content every chapter. Way too sexually explicit content that is unnecessary. He rapes some of them (since they ask him to stop and he doesn’t, but he calls them whores) but he goes unpunished and he believes he did nothing wrong.
The one thing I have to give to Bukowski is that he is a really good writer. What a waste that he writes books vilifying women and seeing them as mere sexual objects. In 290 pages only one or two paragraphs were relevant.
The one thing I have to give to Bukowski is that he is a really good writer. What a waste that he writes books vilifying women and seeing them as mere sexual objects. In 290 pages only one or two paragraphs were relevant.
greden's review
3.0
I'm not exactly sure what I read. But it seems like a very close account of Bukowski's personal experiences with women, after his fame as a writer. So Henry Chinaski is a semi-autobiographical confessional character of sorts. Personally, I'm not a big fan of semi-autobiographical, especially when the theme is human interactions, because it was in the uncanny valley between realistic and fiction. I am almost entirely certain that most of these events had happened in Bukowski's life, but he altered facts ever so slightly to make a more engaging story. While it did take me some time to get used to, as I am not a 50 year old semi-famous writer living in Hollywood, I do think all of this is realistic.
Nevertheless, I think Bukowski did a great job exposing the male sexual psyche, with humor and raw confessional honesty. Bukowski did have an effect on me, as I am ever so more inclined to be more honest in my writing, at least it encourages me to be so. He is doing the opposite of virtue-signalling, which is so prevelant today, and despite of , or because of this, he comes across as a likeable character, albeit deranged, sad and lowly. I know a few guys like Bukowski, or Chinaski, rather. They have some heaviness to them, which has come through immense suffering, and this heaviness gives them a sort of gravitas, a sort of charisma and raw humor which comes from having your ego destroyed, to the degree they do not take themselves seriously at all. They submit themselves to debauchery, alcohol, and embrace the "self-development is masturbation" motto, they are funny, likeable, and charismatic, they have no patience for bullshit or superficial courtesies.
Bukowsi reveals an inherent limit to writing autobiographies, semi or otherwise, in that when he writes about these obviously deranged things, he is confessing he is self-conscious of what makes him so "awful," so to say. It reminds me of Matthew McConaughey's Greenlights... they're both writing as to say "look at this, how crazy I am!" Not a fair criticism of either, but my point is they would be even more likable had they not be conscious of it, and therefore not able to write about it.
Bukoski's writing caught me off-guard over and over again by suddenly saying something so outlandish I had to just laugh out loud, and the best thing was that the humor seemed so effortless that it seemed almost accidental.
An example of this would be in the earlier chapters where Chinanski was togheter with a woman called Lydia, and had a fan called Lilly, whom he was writing to on the side:
"Dead Lily," I wrote. "You will always be a part of my life..."
Chapter 9:
"Lydia and I was almost fighting. She was a flirt and it irritated me. When we ate out I was sure she was eyeballing some man across the room."
While the story was overall very melancholy, and the life portrayed here was a very sad one, there are definately some admireable aspects of the character. One is the raw authenticity and radical honesty he practiced. A lot of men are tip-toeing around on eggshells when it comes to dating, and especially when it comes to seeing other women. Bukowski portrays, I believe, accurately, how women actually respond to raw honesty. Although Bukowski's character was a severe alcoholic, he was not a cowardly liar. He said upright "I am going to see this woman now," to another. He stated his sexual desires clear and bluntly-- the book ended when for the first time Bukowski rejected a female fan for the sake of loyality toward his developing relationship, and there was now a silver-lining toward a higher level of being, without even trying, but only speaking the truth. The book ended with him acknowledging he's a "good guy," now, because a cat decides to stroke his legs. Then he gave the cat some tuna, 7oz of it.
"I liked to gamble with my beef stews. I put almost everything into them and sometimes got away with it."
Nevertheless, I think Bukowski did a great job exposing the male sexual psyche, with humor and raw confessional honesty. Bukowski did have an effect on me, as I am ever so more inclined to be more honest in my writing, at least it encourages me to be so. He is doing the opposite of virtue-signalling, which is so prevelant today, and despite of , or because of this, he comes across as a likeable character, albeit deranged, sad and lowly. I know a few guys like Bukowski, or Chinaski, rather. They have some heaviness to them, which has come through immense suffering, and this heaviness gives them a sort of gravitas, a sort of charisma and raw humor which comes from having your ego destroyed, to the degree they do not take themselves seriously at all. They submit themselves to debauchery, alcohol, and embrace the "self-development is masturbation" motto, they are funny, likeable, and charismatic, they have no patience for bullshit or superficial courtesies.
Bukowsi reveals an inherent limit to writing autobiographies, semi or otherwise, in that when he writes about these obviously deranged things, he is confessing he is self-conscious of what makes him so "awful," so to say. It reminds me of Matthew McConaughey's Greenlights... they're both writing as to say "look at this, how crazy I am!" Not a fair criticism of either, but my point is they would be even more likable had they not be conscious of it, and therefore not able to write about it.
Bukoski's writing caught me off-guard over and over again by suddenly saying something so outlandish I had to just laugh out loud, and the best thing was that the humor seemed so effortless that it seemed almost accidental.
An example of this would be in the earlier chapters where Chinanski was togheter with a woman called Lydia, and had a fan called Lilly, whom he was writing to on the side:
"Dead Lily," I wrote. "You will always be a part of my life..."
Chapter 9:
"Lydia and I was almost fighting. She was a flirt and it irritated me. When we ate out I was sure she was eyeballing some man across the room."
While the story was overall very melancholy, and the life portrayed here was a very sad one, there are definately some admireable aspects of the character. One is the raw authenticity and radical honesty he practiced. A lot of men are tip-toeing around on eggshells when it comes to dating, and especially when it comes to seeing other women. Bukowski portrays, I believe, accurately, how women actually respond to raw honesty. Although Bukowski's character was a severe alcoholic, he was not a cowardly liar. He said upright "I am going to see this woman now," to another. He stated his sexual desires clear and bluntly-- the book ended when for the first time Bukowski rejected a female fan for the sake of loyality toward his developing relationship, and there was now a silver-lining toward a higher level of being, without even trying, but only speaking the truth. The book ended with him acknowledging he's a "good guy," now, because a cat decides to stroke his legs. Then he gave the cat some tuna, 7oz of it.
"I liked to gamble with my beef stews. I put almost everything into them and sometimes got away with it."
rosetintedglasses's review against another edition
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
aly_moh's review against another edition
1.0
خمر ومخدرات ونساء...ثم خمر ومخدرات ونساء ...ثم خمر ومخدرات ونساء ..وهكذا طوال احداث الرواية ...معروف ان هذا الثالوث هو اساس اعمال بوكوفسكى واذا لم يرق لك اى من هذه العناصر فلا انصحك بأن تقرب رواياته ...مقدرتش اكملها ...وانى حاليا اتسائل ...ما الذى استحق ان يكتبه بوكوفسكى فى هذه الرواية العادية جدا والمملة جدا فى اكثر من 500 صفحة علما بأنى وقفت عند الصفحة رقم 320...حقيقة مش عارف !!!!