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3.51 AVERAGE
3.51 AVERAGE
dark
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Perhaps not my favorite Bukowski, but still some very great moments. Bukowski, to me, is like a lotus. Beauty can grow out of the mud.
Who could hate lines like:
I am bitter sometimes
but the taste has often been
sweet, it’s only that I’ve
feared to say it. it’s like
when your woman says
“tell me you love me,” and
you can’t.
Who could hate lines like:
I am bitter sometimes
but the taste has often been
sweet, it’s only that I’ve
feared to say it. it’s like
when your woman says
“tell me you love me,” and
you can’t.
لا يمكنني .. توقفت عن القراءة في منتصف الكتاب ولأول مرة اتمنى لو يمكن التقييم بالسالب ، قرأت كتب سيئة قبله لكنه جعلني أدرك أن هناك كتب اسوأ.. كتب لا يمكنني إكمالها حتى .
قرأت لبكوفسكي ديوان محترقا بالماء غارقا في اللهب ولم يعجبني أغلبه .. ثم تذكرت بأن الشعر أبن لغته ولا يمكن نزعه .. فقرأت باللغة الأصل و سأقتبس الآن أبياتاً ، سأضع الجمل بجانب بعضها لن ارصها عامودياً كي لا يخدعك عقلك .. واقرأ هل ترى شعراً؟
<b><blockquote>"the phone kept ringing. I picked it up. “hello?” “I LOVE YOU!” she said. “thanks,” I said.“is that all you’ve got to say?” “yes.” “eat shit!” she said and hung up.</blockquote></b>
هل يفترض أن يكون هذا بيت؟ لا قافية ولا شعور وجداني متجاوز للحن الموسيقي .. مرة أخرى وسأل نفسك بصدق .. هل تقرأ شعراً ؟
<b><blockquote>"the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt into a crack. I got the can and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and finally the roach came out and gave me a very dirty look. then he fell down into the bathtub and I watched him dying with a subtle pleasure because I paid the rent and he didn’t. "</blockquote></b>
الترجمة العربية أعطته جمالاً وهمي فالمفردات في خربشاته مفردات دارجة وبعضها سوقي ، لا أدري الذي يقيم بخمسة نجوم والذي يراه شاعراً هل يعرفون الشعر أصلا؟
لعل البعض سيقول بأن التقطيع العامودي ضروري.. حسنا هذا آخر اقتباس فقط لأوضح بأن لا اللغة ولا الشكل ولا المعنى يمكن أن يجعل كتابات بكوفسكي شعراً .. إلا الجهل و الذوق الفاسد ربما .
<b><blockquote>"he didn’t leave you any of his millions?
nothing, she said.
after having to eat all those breakfasts and lunches and dinners with him after listening to all his bullshit?
he was a brilliant man.
you know what I mean.
anyhow, I got the ashes. and you fucked my sisters.
I never fucked your sisters.
yes, you did.
I fucked one of them.
which one?
the lesbian, I said, she bought me dinner and drinks, I had very little choice.
I’m going, she said.
don’t forget your bottle.
she went in and got it.
there’s so little to you, she said, that when you die and they burn you they’ll have to add almost all green and blue pebbles.
all right, I said. "</blockquote></b>
قرأت لبكوفسكي ديوان محترقا بالماء غارقا في اللهب ولم يعجبني أغلبه .. ثم تذكرت بأن الشعر أبن لغته ولا يمكن نزعه .. فقرأت باللغة الأصل و سأقتبس الآن أبياتاً ، سأضع الجمل بجانب بعضها لن ارصها عامودياً كي لا يخدعك عقلك .. واقرأ هل ترى شعراً؟
<b><blockquote>"the phone kept ringing. I picked it up. “hello?” “I LOVE YOU!” she said. “thanks,” I said.“is that all you’ve got to say?” “yes.” “eat shit!” she said and hung up.</blockquote></b>
هل يفترض أن يكون هذا بيت؟ لا قافية ولا شعور وجداني متجاوز للحن الموسيقي .. مرة أخرى وسأل نفسك بصدق .. هل تقرأ شعراً ؟
<b><blockquote>"the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt into a crack. I got the can and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and finally the roach came out and gave me a very dirty look. then he fell down into the bathtub and I watched him dying with a subtle pleasure because I paid the rent and he didn’t. "</blockquote></b>
الترجمة العربية أعطته جمالاً وهمي فالمفردات في خربشاته مفردات دارجة وبعضها سوقي ، لا أدري الذي يقيم بخمسة نجوم والذي يراه شاعراً هل يعرفون الشعر أصلا؟
لعل البعض سيقول بأن التقطيع العامودي ضروري.. حسنا هذا آخر اقتباس فقط لأوضح بأن لا اللغة ولا الشكل ولا المعنى يمكن أن يجعل كتابات بكوفسكي شعراً .. إلا الجهل و الذوق الفاسد ربما .
<b><blockquote>"he didn’t leave you any of his millions?
nothing, she said.
after having to eat all those breakfasts and lunches and dinners with him after listening to all his bullshit?
he was a brilliant man.
you know what I mean.
anyhow, I got the ashes. and you fucked my sisters.
I never fucked your sisters.
yes, you did.
I fucked one of them.
which one?
the lesbian, I said, she bought me dinner and drinks, I had very little choice.
I’m going, she said.
don’t forget your bottle.
she went in and got it.
there’s so little to you, she said, that when you die and they burn you they’ll have to add almost all green and blue pebbles.
all right, I said. "</blockquote></b>
What they want
Vallejo writing about
loneliness while starving to
death;
Van Gogh's ear rejected by a
whore;
Rimbaud running off to Africa
to look for gold and finding
an incurable case of syphilis;
Beethoven gone deaf;
Pound dragged through the streets
in a cage;
Chatterton taking rat poison;
Hemingway's brains dropping into
the orange juice;
Pascal cutting his wrists
in the bathtub;
Artaud locked up with the mad;
Dostoevsky stood up against a wall;
Crane jumping into a boat propeller;
Lorca shot in the road by Spanish
troops;
Berryman jumping off a bridge;
Burroughs shooting his wife;
Mailer knifing his.
-that's what they want:
a God damned show
a lit billboard
in the middle of hell.
that's what they want,
that bunch of
dull
inarticulate
safe
dreary
admirers of
carnivals.
Vallejo writing about
loneliness while starving to
death;
Van Gogh's ear rejected by a
whore;
Rimbaud running off to Africa
to look for gold and finding
an incurable case of syphilis;
Beethoven gone deaf;
Pound dragged through the streets
in a cage;
Chatterton taking rat poison;
Hemingway's brains dropping into
the orange juice;
Pascal cutting his wrists
in the bathtub;
Artaud locked up with the mad;
Dostoevsky stood up against a wall;
Crane jumping into a boat propeller;
Lorca shot in the road by Spanish
troops;
Berryman jumping off a bridge;
Burroughs shooting his wife;
Mailer knifing his.
-that's what they want:
a God damned show
a lit billboard
in the middle of hell.
that's what they want,
that bunch of
dull
inarticulate
safe
dreary
admirers of
carnivals.
Bukowski is hilarious at times, and disgusting at others. There's only so much I can read about all of his drunken trysts. There's a few gems in here for sure, though.
I've had Charles Bukowski works on my list for so long, and reading this I was so underwhelmed. The first few poems right off the bat gave the feeling of something crude-sounding that he was attempting to make picturesque. I personally don't think it worked. It wasn't poetry that I could get into or enjoy to say the least. I still have a few more things from Bukowski on my list that I will of course give a read.
This book might take the cake for worst thing I’ve ever read. I would’ve given it 0 stars if I could. Off the top of my head, I can think of three salvageable poems from this collection, and the rest deserve the bin. Reads like misogynistic lonely old man ramblings about how many women he’s slept with, interspersed with trips to the toilet. Definitely not worth the time to read it, but I finished it so I could intelligently fight people who like it. 0/10 do not recommend.
462-0614 is worth the read though.
462-0614 is worth the read though.
dark
funny
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated