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A review by moribun
Tales of Ordinary Madness by Charles Bukowski
2.0
True to Bukowski’s tradition and the very title of the book, it is a collection of stories of various lowlifes in Los Angeles including himself & his literary equivalence Henry Chinaski, and of course it contains a lot of profanities, drunkenness, absurdities, and violence. I guess I was just bored (it seemed to be my general weariness when it comes to his literary arsenal) when I finally picked it up with the intention of only reading the first chapter, but it opened so strongly with A.45 to Pay the Rent I was suddenly not bored anymore.
Each person has a little madness in their own unique way, whether it’s an ex-con having to resolve back to violence and crime only to make enough money to support his family thanks to a soul-crushing rehabilitation system, people actually raping and killing each other for fun in prison, or a poet not knowing what he’s doing but drink to pass time and assignments. To my distaste, there was just a little too heavy a dose of himself in the stories (as in talking about his own experiences and fucking LITERATURE and POEMS and POETS and RACING HORSES shit. BUKOWSKI.) and the nonchalance present did entice not much than mild annoyance. It was morbidly fun to read, however. The chapters are short, easy to read, almost funny in their extremity, and most importantly sincere. They won’t make you feel better about yourself though, you self-centered prick.
A few chapters that I actually enjoyed:
- A.45 to Pay the Rent (strong intro game, probably the best story)
- Nut Ward Just East of Hollywood (reminds me a little of both Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Infinite Jest)
- Goodbye Watson (that ending paragraph)
- GREAT POETS DIE IN STEAMING POTS OF SHIT (it’s only apt to write in all caps, and it felt like Tony Soprano having to talk to an overly enthusiastic parent of his children’s friend’s in a BBQ)
- Rape! Rape! (they’re all disgusting)
- A Dollar and 20 Cents
- A Rain of Women
- Purple as an Iris
- One for Walter Lowenfels
- Notes of the Pest (possibly even better than A.45 to Pay the Rent, but it did feel somewhat rehashed and pretentious)
I’m still not convinced that Bukowski is remarkable.
Each person has a little madness in their own unique way, whether it’s an ex-con having to resolve back to violence and crime only to make enough money to support his family thanks to a soul-crushing rehabilitation system, people actually raping and killing each other for fun in prison, or a poet not knowing what he’s doing but drink to pass time and assignments. To my distaste, there was just a little too heavy a dose of himself in the stories (as in talking about his own experiences and fucking LITERATURE and POEMS and POETS and RACING HORSES shit. BUKOWSKI.) and the nonchalance present did entice not much than mild annoyance. It was morbidly fun to read, however. The chapters are short, easy to read, almost funny in their extremity, and most importantly sincere. They won’t make you feel better about yourself though, you self-centered prick.
A few chapters that I actually enjoyed:
- A.45 to Pay the Rent (strong intro game, probably the best story)
- Nut Ward Just East of Hollywood (reminds me a little of both Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Infinite Jest)
- Goodbye Watson (that ending paragraph)
- GREAT POETS DIE IN STEAMING POTS OF SHIT (it’s only apt to write in all caps, and it felt like Tony Soprano having to talk to an overly enthusiastic parent of his children’s friend’s in a BBQ)
- Rape! Rape! (they’re all disgusting)
- A Dollar and 20 Cents
- A Rain of Women
- Purple as an Iris
- One for Walter Lowenfels
- Notes of the Pest (possibly even better than A.45 to Pay the Rent, but it did feel somewhat rehashed and pretentious)
I’m still not convinced that Bukowski is remarkable.