27 Feb 08
Originally posted by rbmorrisI'm A big Bukowski fan... Have you heard the Tom Waits reading bukowski thingy on his new album, its pretty cool.....
Any fans of Bukowski...poems...novels...etc.?
Have you read "Ask the Dust", by John Fante?
Shame on you, if you haven't. It's an essential part of the Bukowski experience.
Also recommended: The new(ish) DVD documentary, "Born Into This".
27 Feb 08
Originally posted by rbmorrisYES!! I'm a fan, but I don't have any of his books. 😞
Any fans of Bukowski...poems...novels...etc.?
Have you read "Ask the Dust", by John Fante?
Shame on you, if you haven't. It's an essential part of the Bukowski experience.
Also recommended: The new(ish) DVD documentary, "Born Into This".
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27 Feb 08
Originally posted by shavixmirBukowski was much better at writing poetry and short stories than novels, although 'Ham on Rye' isn't bad.
Didn't Bukowski write the story about the guy working at the post office.
If so, it sucked.
EDIT: Well the story sucked, whoever wrote it...
This is one of my favourite poems:
Raw With Love (written by Charles Bukowski)
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
I won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
I won't blame you,
instead
I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and I won't use it
yet.
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27 Feb 08
Originally posted by rbmorrisJohn Fante was a great writer. 'Ask the Dust' is his most famous work, but all his books are worth reading.
Any fans of Bukowski...poems...novels...etc.?
Have you read "Ask the Dust", by John Fante?
Shame on you, if you haven't. It's an essential part of the Bukowski experience.
Also recommended: The new(ish) DVD documentary, "Born Into This".
His son, Dan Fante is also very good. I loved his first novel 'Chump Change'.
27 Feb 08
Originally posted by MexicoNo, I hadn't heard about that. I'll have to check it out. Do you know the name of the album. Tom Waits was interviewed on the Bukowski DVD I mentioned. Quality stuff.
I'm A big Bukowski fan... Have you heard the Tom Waits reading bukowski thingy on his new album, its pretty cool.....
27 Feb 08
Originally posted by pawnhandlerI thought his novels were great (some better than others), although some people would disagree. It seems fashionable to disregard his novels in favor of his poetry (which I also love). Personally, I think that reading his novels (which are loosely biographical) will give you better insight into his poetry.
YES!! I'm a fan, but I don't have any of his books. 😞
27 Feb 08
1 edit
Originally posted by David TebbI didn't know his (Fante's) son was a writer. I'll have to pick up one of his books. The thing I loved about "Ask the Dust" was how Bandini was so frustrating. You kind of root for him throughout the story, and at times, you really like him. Other times, you (the reader) detest him. I think it must be incredibly difficult to create a character like that. Reminded me a little of some of Dostoyevsky's characters.
John Fante was a great writer. 'Ask the Dust' is his most famous work, but all his books are worth reading.
His son, Dan Fante is also very good. I loved his first novel 'Chump Change'.
* For those of you who are not familiar with John Fante, he was probably Bukowski's greatest influence. Here's an excerpt from "Fante was my God" (written by Charles Bukowski):
"A library was a good place to be when you had nothing to drink or to eat, and the landlady was looking for you and for the back rent money. In the library at least you had the use of the toilet facilities.) I saw quite a number of other bums in there, most of them asleep on top of their books. I kept on walking around the big room, pulling the books off the shelves, reading a few lines, a few pages, then putting them back. Then one day I pulled a book down and opened it, and there it was. I stood for a moment, reading. Then like a man who had found gold in the city dump, I carried the book to a table. The lines rolled easily across the page, there was a flow. Each line had its own energy and was followed by another like it. The very substance of each line gave the page a form, a feeling of something carved into it. And here, at last, was a man who was not afraid of emotion. The humur and the pain were intermixed with a superb simplicity. The beginning of that book was a wild and enormous miracle to me. I had a library card. I checked the book out, took it to my room, climbed into my bed and read it, and I knew long before I had finished that here was a man who had evolved a distinct way of writing. The book was Ask the Dust and the author was John Fante. He was to be a lifetime influence on my writing. I finished Ask the Dust and looked for other books of Fante's in the library. I found two. They were of the same order, written of and from the gut and the heart. Yes, Fante had a mighty effect upon me."
28 Feb 08
1 edit
I tend to prefer the lyricists over the imagists (e.g., Dylan Thomas over Eliot, Merwin over Doc Williams), while granting that the lines aren’t that clear. Bukowski, seems more in the imagist line with Williams, though (like Gary Snyder also) can be quite lyrical—
Mongolian coasts shining in light,
I listen to the pulse of the sun,
the tiger is the same to all of us
and high oh
so high on the branch
our oriole
sings.
—from The Days Run Away Like Horses Over the Hills
I don’t know his prose at all.
EDIT: For example, the poem quoted by David Tebb strikes me as being in the imagist line, but with some strong lyrical moments:
“as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave”
“our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together”