De dónde venían las mujeres? La reserva era inacabable. Cada una de ellas era individual, diferente. Sus chochos eran diferentes, sus besos eran diferentes, sus pechos eran diferentes, pero ningún hombre podía bebérselas todas, eran demasiadas, cruzando sus piernas, volviendo locos a los hombres. ¡Vaya un festín!” La literatura de Bukowski es el propio Bukowski. En él, en el personaje-autor, y en la fuerza de su lenguaje, duro, sincero e impúdico, reside toda la fascinación que provoca su literatura (que Bukowski me perdone por calificarla como literatura). Women come and go, an ensemble of women is exotic and bizarre but all of them are thoroughly unhappy. Emptiness swallows existence and human comedy is hardly distinguishable from human tragedy… Podría sonar tedioso, o con poca gracia, pero Bukowski y su pluma tienen una dimensión impresionante. Tags: Analysis of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Charles Bukowski, Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Cliffsnotes of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Enotes of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Essays of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Henry Chinaski, Literary Criticism, Literary Theory, Modernism, Notes of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Sparknotes of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Summary of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Themes of Charles Bukowski’s Novels, Thesis of Charles Bukowski’s Novels Related Articles

Post Office – HarperCollins Post Office – HarperCollins

Charlson, David. Charles Bukowski: Autobiographer, Gender Critic, Iconoclast. Victoria, B.C.: Trafford, 2005. I was glad I wasn’t in love, that I wasn’t happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything. People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective. They lose their sense of humor. They become nervous, psychotic bores. They even become killers.Oh, it’s a cesspool, all right, Buk’s life, played for dark comedy, with Bukowksi/Chinaski the central comi-tragic figure, but too often at the expense of women, though several of them also mistreat him as he mistreats them. The plot didn't exist. It was a repetitive cycle of drinking, having sex and going to horse races, with the occasional poetry reading here and there. This book is repetitive beyond all get out and will get on your every nerve and yet you can’t help but continue reading. We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”

Bukowski, Charles - Post Office | Gabriel Jiménez (PDF) Bukowski, Charles - Post Office | Gabriel Jiménez

Como había nacido hombre, anhelaba constantemente mujeres, cuanto más guarras mejor. Y sin embargo las mujeres, las buenas mujeres, me daban miedo porque a veces querían tu alma, y lo poco que quedaba de la mía, quería conservarlo para mí. Básicamente deseaba prostitutas, porque eran duras, sin esperanzas, y no pedían nada personal. Nada se perdía cuando ellas se iban. Pero al mismo tiempo soñaba con una mujer buena y cariñosa, a pesar de lo que me pudiera costar.” Chinaski había superado la barrera del medio siglo y estaba resarciéndose de todas esas mujeres inalcanzables en su juventud sin que el daño que pudiera provocar en ellas pudiera frenarle. Tenía la certeza de que toda relación estaba abocada al fracaso, de que toda relación iría marchitándose sin remedio y que además… My God, this book is perfect. I finished it a day ago, so I've had time to digest it. It's gonna be hard to move onto my next book, my rebound read, because I'm still hung up on this one. I'm in love with it. I can't find a single flaw in it. This was my first Bukowski book, and I doubt his others will be able to live up to it for me. This would have to be one of my favorite books of all time, right up there with House of Leaves. Most of the bitches in his books deserved to be treated like shit. Or wanted to be treated like shit. Because that's how women are sometimes. Bukowski's alter ego, Chinaski, is the perfect antihero. The kind of flawed protagonist I'm always searching for. He's a piece of shit, his life is a mess, but you'll root for him anyways. You'll want him to find the love he's looking for, and in the end he does. He meets a woman who won't sleep with him for a long time, so they develop a true friendship. She's a good woman, easy to talk to, not willing to put up with his crap. And he really likes her, and she likes him, and in the end he realizes what that's worth. She's based off a woman he married. So I think the book ended rather sweetly.This book, albeit playful, could be helpful for a case-study on polygamy. It is also acute in conveying the harsh economic realities that the Americans of that generation had been going through. Additionally, it could assist women of all generations to understand the true composition of jerks, assholes and dirty old men, and know when to run for their lives if they are in a relationship with one.

Charles Bukowski - Wikipedia Charles Bukowski - Wikipedia

When I started reading literature seriously, I was already mature enough. But I knew since a very young age that books get into your mind. As a child, I was a comic book lover. And those comic- heroes used to get into my head; I was behaving like them when I was alone. You should always read good books. That was a piece of advice. I followed it to date. Misogyny, misogyny, misogyny....that's all everyone sees. Few see the true character of Hank, only the brutal sexual descriptions, the words beginning with "C" and his practice of "mounting" whatever drunken soul may have wandered into his piss-stained bed. This is one of the most American novels I have ever read. It tells the story of the common man, overburdened by the memories of his abusive youth, beleagured by his own unsightly appearance and wallowing in the depths of alcoholism. Few feel the groan of his body when he rises each morning, the dull thud in his brain, or the unrequited love in his heart. This is not a story of a crude womanizer. This is the story of pain and consistency, his life moving along with each labored step, unwillingly. It is the story of rejection, acceptance and our own inherent ability to survive without really trying. Post Office is an account of Bukowski alter-ego Henry Chinaski. It covers the period of Chinaski’s life from the mid-1950s to his resignation from the United States Postal Service in 1969, interrupted only by a brief hiatus during which he supported himself by gambling at horse races. Somewhere near the end he has an encounter with a petit woman and he says something along the lines of 'it will be like raping a child' while thinking about the possible intercourse with her. To be fair, we saw some really good shows (Blue Man Group and Mystere). And the buffets were exciting (Paris was wonderful).Even in this sort of book, I found a poetic paragraph to share with, you must know that Hank Chinaski is also a poet, apart from alcohol and women he writes poems in between. Era viejo y feo. Quizás por eso era tan agradable trincársela dentro a jovencitas. Yo era King Kong y ellas eran frágiles y tiernas. ¿Estaba tratando de penetrar por un camino que me alejase de la muerte? ¿Estando con chicas jóvenes esperaba no hacerme viejo, no sentirme viejo? Solamente no quería envejecer de mala manera, quería simplemente cortar, estar muerto antes de que llegara la muerte.” Pero las mujeres suponían además otra cosa, eran un buen material para su literatura. “Creo que te follas a las mujeres sólo para escribir que te las has follado”, le espeta alguien en un momento dado de la novela, y, como él dice, romper con una mujer es la única forma de encontrar otra y, por tanto, conseguir material nuevo. Also, Bukowski can really write. This book was a joy to read. I couldn't put it down! Here's my problem with memoirs - just because it happened, doesn't mean it's interesting. Bukowski knew the power of fiction. He knew exactly what to keep, what to leave out, and what to fabricate. So this story is very readable. There was nothing I'd change about it. These are the names of the ladies in his life: Lydia, Katherine, Joanna, Nicole, Debra, Tanya, Gertrude, Hilda, Iris, Mercedes, Liza,and Tammie. (There are others; I missed a few.)