I still didn’t get my morning coffee, my dumb ass forgot to start the dishwasher before sleep, and I have to run it now. Also, I forgot the coffee cups inside (and I’m too lazy to go on a quest of looking for another coffee cup), so no coffee for me for the next 30 minutes (I’m going with fast mode). So we’re left with Bukowski.
It’s not a mystery that I find Bukowski as a huge inspiration. I think he’s one of the biggest inspirations for me. Every time I feel I’m not good enough to be a professional wannabe writer (happens every day but not longer than 5 minutes), I recall what Bukowski said about writing. And say to myself – alright, time to go on. Good, bad, or ugly – I’m the guy who types word after word after word and tries to share my messed up sense of humor and understanding of what’s funny to the world (or, I would rather say, it’s fraction).
So, Bukowski. I ignored his works for far too long, and I think it was for the best. You need to live a little life to at least somewhat relate to what he’s writing (well, work part, his alcotrash journeys are out of reach for me since I’m not a big fan of alcohol or journeys).
Like a lot of people who got into him, I started with Postal Office. I didn’t know what to expect since a lot of people I know read him back in the university. We had this wave of edgy teenagers favoring edgy writing. Fight Club was their bible (I read it at the tender age of 31 and couldn’t stop laughing – good comedy), and Bukowski was their king. But I was a super-edgy teenager, and I didn’t read those guys. I read Robert Asprin and his MYTH series. Over and over and over and over again. Oh yeah, I re-read it at least 50 times. It was my Fight Club. Without sex, long monologues about explosives, and fever dreams of becoming a real dude.
Anyway, back to Bukowski. I expected it to be the same stuff as Fight Club (for a very long time, Palahniuk and Bukowski were more or less the same person to me). I read Postal Office by chance (started reading it on the bus on my way to work), and I loved it. It was real. It was witty. It was fun. It also was surprisingly relatable. And it was as random and plotless as real life. It was just a story of Bukowski (in the book known by his alter-ego, Chinaski) told in the way he could tell it – simple language, minimum descriptions, just plain text full of in-your-face, bitch dialogues and situations. It wasn’t pretentious. It was something I looked for all along – just an honest story of a guy who gets by. Day by day.
So, that was it. The moment I finished his book – I went on and on and on. I read Ham on Rye, Hollywood, Women, Factotum, his letters on writing, his chosen poetry, The Pleasures of the Damned, Pulp, and other stuff I can’t remember at the moment. I read it all, and what can I say? Postal Office still remains his number one (in my books) and has this perfect balance of satire, humor, and gritty realism. Factotum was on the darker side, full of even more details others prefer to ignore (like taking a shit and what to use to wipe your ass with, you know, daily stuff, boring stuff, for some people who live in the fairyland where no one ever piss or takes a shit even gross stuff). Ham on Rye was too personal, intimate, and there weren’t many jokes – his childhood wasn’t a joke, and it takes some massive balls to write about it, sometimes going into the danger zone of terrible memories and experiences. Women, well, the power of sex shouldn’t be underestimated (also, thanks to this book alone, I receive constant recommendations to read fiction porn). Everything else – I’ll write about it the next time, I still need topics for entries, and I think each of his books easily deserves a separate post (some people dedicate their entire books to Bukowski’s books, but I’m not this extreme, I know shit about his life except what he wrote in his books and even there I’m not analyzing whether it is a lie or truth; I accept everything as the truth).
But why the next time? Because the day is on, I need to have my morning coffee (not because I’m addicted to it or my day isn’t full without a cup of coffee, but because I recently bought coffee I finally liked and can’t wait to try it again) after a glass of warm water I already had. I have to have breakfast, spend some time with my wife before the day begins, and prepare for 8 hours of work in the corporate grinder. And maybe take a mighty shit if circumstances are right because that’s what we as human species do – take a mighty shit once in a while.