Scan barcode
thebobsphere's review
4.0
One of my faves: A down and out writer travels to and fro from a coffee shop, barely affording life while trying to find a publisher to release his short fiction.
Fante does romanticize the poverty aspect, falling in love with a waitress, living by the skin of one's teeth but his writing style flows so well that I am able to forgive him for this. Bukowski was influenced by Fante and it shows but while the former is rough and crass the latter does have restraint and elegance. A cult classic.
Fante does romanticize the poverty aspect, falling in love with a waitress, living by the skin of one's teeth but his writing style flows so well that I am able to forgive him for this. Bukowski was influenced by Fante and it shows but while the former is rough and crass the latter does have restraint and elegance. A cult classic.
alisonjfields's review against another edition
3.0
I would put this book somewhere squarely between Jack Kerouac and Nathaniel West, with all of the posturing of the former and none of the half-smiling unsettled of the latter. A lot of people I love love this books. So if it makes them feel any better, I suppose my ho-hum response to this book might derive from my general ho-hum response to the idea of Los Angeles.
horrific_child's review against another edition
5.0
“I have seen them stagger out of their movie palaces and blink their empty eyes in the face of reality once more, and stagger home, to read the Times, to find out what's going on in the world. I have vomited at their newspapers, read their literature, observed their customs, eaten their food, desired their women, gaped at their art. But I am poor, and my name ends with a soft vowel, and they hate me and my father, and my father's father, and they would have my blood and put me down, but they are old now, dying in the sun and in the hot dust of the road, and I am young and full of hope and love for my country and my times, and when I say Greaser to you it is not my heart that speaks, but the quivering of an old wound, and I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done.”
bxlbooks91's review against another edition
4.0
Beautiful, rich novel. Amazing main characters, beautiful language and a great melancholy atmosphere. Preferred Fante's writing style over Bukowski's.
4*
4*
alexsiddall's review against another edition
4.0
Extraordinary for its time. Fades away rather towards the end, but it really looks clearly at human weakness: how we are conflicted, venal, inconsistent, loving, vicious, self-pitying, and magnanimous all at once. A good read, and a landmark 20th century American novel.
christinejschmidt's review against another edition
3.0
Beautiful description for days. I love Arturo Bandini, but he outshines all the other characters.
iammandyellen's review against another edition
3.0
it might be called "The Writer In Love with his Struggle" or "Love and Revulsion," tho it would probably amount to the same thing. Fante has a sincerity Bukowski lacks, and his bravado is truly pathetic where Bukowski's is cheap. i can see that Bukowski took all the wrong things from Fante: destitution without charity, self-absorption without extension, cruelty without repentance, degradation without humor, mania without revelation, etc. in the story bandini has the spirituality of a creator. he constructs his world around him as a writer, he invents it, makes characters of his neighbors. dust is his material.
favorite line:
"So have your champagne, because I love you both, and you, too Vivian, even if your mouth looks like it had been dug out with raw fingernails and your old child's eyes swim in blood written like mad sonnets."
(77, Ch 10, final paragraph)
favorite line:
"So have your champagne, because I love you both, and you, too Vivian, even if your mouth looks like it had been dug out with raw fingernails and your old child's eyes swim in blood written like mad sonnets."
(77, Ch 10, final paragraph)
chaarloutre's review against another edition
2.0
J’avais ce livre dans ma PAL depuis des années, probablement depuis l’époque où j’étais attirée par la littérature masculine américaine du XXeme siècle. Depuis, j'ai découvert que je n’aimais pas ça, et j’ai donc commencé ma lecture en me disant que je n’irais probablement pas au bout. Finalement, c’est peut-être parce que le roman se parcoure facilement que je n’ai pas abandonné. J’y vois bien les qualités littéraires caractéristiques de son genre, mais pour moi ce sont aussi ces qualités qui sont les défauts de ce type de romans. J’y ai d’ailleurs retrouvé les mêmes choses que dans mes précédentes lectures du genre. L’écriture est incisive, directe, presque agressive. Si elle nous confronte brutalement au récit, elle n’est en revanche pas du tout agréable à lire. Côté propos, on est une fois de plus sur un artiste maudit, raté, plus pathétique que poétique, qui survit dans des conditions miteuses en s’intéressant plus aux femmes qu’à son travail. Ici, il faut encore ajouter une bonne couche de sexisme et de racisme. Bref, pour la féministe que je suis, c’est un non-sens de continuer à lire les productions de ces prétendus grands auteurs, et maintenant que j’ai terminé cet ouvrage, je ne pense pas revenir un jour à ce genre littéraire. En revanche, je me rends compte que je n’ai aucune idée de ce qu’écrivaient les femmes aux États-Unis à la même époque, et je suis curieuse de découvrir ça.
wieteke's review
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0