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A review by atandysd
Ask the Dust by John Fante
dark
emotional
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
0.5
Sheds light on shadows
That driven men must tame, when
Writers were heros
Great If you can detach from what the writer makes you feel in favor of how well he makes you feel it. I found myself in a bit of an emotional rut while reading. I saw patterns of a few of my own past relationships and even gained some insight. Those prone to depression and rumination over past loves and aspirations should steel themselves.
I am not well read, but it reminded me of Kerouac and Steinbeck, though it may have been the setting. I have not yet read Bukowski, but it seems their is a lineage.
A line that I took the time to save:
“I got up from the counter and walked away in fear, walking, fast down the boardwalk, passing people who seemed strange and ghostly: the world seemed a myth, a transparent plane, and all things up on it. We’re here for only a little while; all of us, Bandini, and Hockmuth and Camilla and Vera, all of us were here for a little while, and then we were somewhere else; we were not alive at all; we approached living, but we never achieved it. We are going to die. Everybody was going to die. Even you, Arturo, even you must die.” 96
That driven men must tame, when
Writers were heros
Great If you can detach from what the writer makes you feel in favor of how well he makes you feel it. I found myself in a bit of an emotional rut while reading. I saw patterns of a few of my own past relationships and even gained some insight. Those prone to depression and rumination over past loves and aspirations should steel themselves.
I am not well read, but it reminded me of Kerouac and Steinbeck, though it may have been the setting. I have not yet read Bukowski, but it seems their is a lineage.
A line that I took the time to save:
“I got up from the counter and walked away in fear, walking, fast down the boardwalk, passing people who seemed strange and ghostly: the world seemed a myth, a transparent plane, and all things up on it. We’re here for only a little while; all of us, Bandini, and Hockmuth and Camilla and Vera, all of us were here for a little while, and then we were somewhere else; we were not alive at all; we approached living, but we never achieved it. We are going to die. Everybody was going to die. Even you, Arturo, even you must die.” 96