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3.51 AVERAGE
3.51 AVERAGE
adventurous
funny
mysterious
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
dark
mysterious
sad
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book is meant to be humorous? So lame. A detective and some strange cases doesn't equal humour. So dull. Perhaps the exaggerating the stereotypical prose of detective stories was funny 30 years ago?
dark
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
«Me sentía insatisfecho y, francamente, bastante jodido por todo. No estaba yendo a ninguna parte, ni tampoco el resto del mundo. Estábamos haciendo tiempo, esperando morir, y mientras tanto hacíamos bobadas para llenar el vacío. Algunos ni siquiera hacíamos bobadas. Éramos vegetales. Yo era uno de ésos. No sé qué tipo de vegetal era. Me sentía como un nabo.»
dark
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I'm going to hazard a guess and say this isn't the best entry point into Bukowski's body of work, but I still liked it regardless. This was pitched to me as a send-up of bad detective novels, and it certainly is that, but I appreciate that this has more on its mind than simple pastiche. There's a real world weariness and pessimism that comes through, and it feels especially poignant given that this was Bukowski's last novel before his passing. The sci-fi elements mesh well with the surreal streak here, too. It's definitely one I'd like to revisit in the future once I'm more familiar with the author's work.
Dancing on the edge of perfect, Pulp’s flaws can be quickly forgiven when you remember the book is “dedicated to bad writing.” A pulp fiction story consistently derailed by absurdist plotting and existentialist prose, I haven’t had this much fun reading something in a while.