Techno, as in? haha.
When did you discover Bukowski?
- Thread starter mjp
- Start date
last year a friend was reading something i wrote and told me it reminded him of bukowski, who i had never heard of.. so off i went to the library & i took out run with the hunted. I fell madly, intensely inlove with this book and chuck
it was like everything i'd ever wished for in any form of art, i still have alot to read but i'm recommending him every chance i get if i think someone might benefit from his writing :o
(also i am a big drinker so i felt an affinity to him & the situations -The Life of a Bum (sounded like any old monday a couple years ago)
it was like everything i'd ever wished for in any form of art, i still have alot to read but i'm recommending him every chance i get if i think someone might benefit from his writing :o
(also i am a big drinker so i felt an affinity to him & the situations -The Life of a Bum (sounded like any old monday a couple years ago)
bospress.net
www.bospress.net
Hi,
apologies to Charles. wonder where i got that then?
miserablebastard.
apologies to Charles. wonder where i got that then?
miserablebastard.
Hi!
Been lurking for a while really like the place this is a good place to start. ..
I lived in Hollywood for a short time..quite an eye opener to a young North Shore Long Island girl. You know how it goes friends moving, young, nothing going on except experiences to experience. The place was Hell, it was my Hell I wasn't working so I had a lot of time to get to know the locals. Ironically I had never heard of Buk until I came (maybe ran) home and was sharing some of my stories to a friend who said "Did you ever read Bukowski?" I said no he recommended "Women" I was immediately hooked and have been going through "Buk" phases for the past fifteen years. Sometimes I can almost smell the Boulevard when I read his books. Lessons taught in the strangest of places.
Been lurking for a while really like the place this is a good place to start. ..
I lived in Hollywood for a short time..quite an eye opener to a young North Shore Long Island girl. You know how it goes friends moving, young, nothing going on except experiences to experience. The place was Hell, it was my Hell I wasn't working so I had a lot of time to get to know the locals. Ironically I had never heard of Buk until I came (maybe ran) home and was sharing some of my stories to a friend who said "Did you ever read Bukowski?" I said no he recommended "Women" I was immediately hooked and have been going through "Buk" phases for the past fifteen years. Sometimes I can almost smell the Boulevard when I read his books. Lessons taught in the strangest of places.
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M
MULLINAX
Post Office, 1980.
discovering Bukowski
It was in the late eighties, and I had just quit a job waiting tables in a small beachside restaurant in NH. A friend that I had been sleeping with told me that she had just invited her 'boyfriend 'to come to the US from Belgrade, and would I mind driving them to New Orleans, as they (actually all) of us were poor. I had an old LeMans, and agreed to drive them, as long as I could remain in the backseat the entire trip. One morning we had stopped somewhere (Virginia maybe) and I was drinking a bottle of Ouzo at someone's breakfast table, trying to pull things together, when this guy from Belgrade looked at me and commented about my "bukowski" like behaviors. I pressed for a bit of info, then forgot about him for a while. A couple of months later, I found a used copy of Factotum in a bookstore in New Orleans, and read it 3 or 4 times over the course of a day. I lost that book. Eventually I left New Orleans, and made it back to Knoxville, where a girl I met at a country bar and I had a conversation about Raymond Carver, and I remembered Buk and proceeded to buy everything available. Since then I have filled my shelves.
It was in the late eighties, and I had just quit a job waiting tables in a small beachside restaurant in NH. A friend that I had been sleeping with told me that she had just invited her 'boyfriend 'to come to the US from Belgrade, and would I mind driving them to New Orleans, as they (actually all) of us were poor. I had an old LeMans, and agreed to drive them, as long as I could remain in the backseat the entire trip. One morning we had stopped somewhere (Virginia maybe) and I was drinking a bottle of Ouzo at someone's breakfast table, trying to pull things together, when this guy from Belgrade looked at me and commented about my "bukowski" like behaviors. I pressed for a bit of info, then forgot about him for a while. A couple of months later, I found a used copy of Factotum in a bookstore in New Orleans, and read it 3 or 4 times over the course of a day. I lost that book. Eventually I left New Orleans, and made it back to Knoxville, where a girl I met at a country bar and I had a conversation about Raymond Carver, and I remembered Buk and proceeded to buy everything available. Since then I have filled my shelves.
I have the most post-modern of all tale - what a cunt i am for that!
I was on Yahoo chat maybe 7 or 8 years ago and this guy called Matt, who wrote great poetry, typed me out the poem 'For jane' and I loved some of the lines on it:
'the nights of love still make shadows'
'the tiger is the same for all of us'
'165 days under grass
and you know more than me'
they struck out like truth I suppose
with a clarity I liked.
I went out and bought
'What matters most is how well you walk through the fire'
I have read him since, discovered him more, now he is my grandfather
and i kind of resent him for his alcoholism and the way he treated my mother and the way he knew how to cut through the bullshit on the page, but no in reality.
lonely old courage teacher
I was on Yahoo chat maybe 7 or 8 years ago and this guy called Matt, who wrote great poetry, typed me out the poem 'For jane' and I loved some of the lines on it:
'the nights of love still make shadows'
'the tiger is the same for all of us'
'165 days under grass
and you know more than me'
they struck out like truth I suppose
with a clarity I liked.
I went out and bought
'What matters most is how well you walk through the fire'
I have read him since, discovered him more, now he is my grandfather
and i kind of resent him for his alcoholism and the way he treated my mother and the way he knew how to cut through the bullshit on the page, but no in reality.
lonely old courage teacher
my dear boy, (hobart as he is known to many of you) decided it was time to send me something in the mail. he sent me a cd of buk reading some of his own work. i listened to it on the way to illinois one weekend and immediately began to blush. i shied away for a bit, unaccustomed to the crassness. but recently i have been drawn back to him (mostly the poetry and movies...i have yet to read a novel) and now here i am...learning and growing and loving him more every day.
Brother Schenker
Founding member
I first came across Buk in High Times magazine around 1980 or so. He had a monthly Dirty Old Man "column". I wasn't of the mind or in the mood to read these short stories by some old dude who drank booze and basically wrote zero about pot & acid. I wanted to read about exotic pot and getting wasted.
I skimmed the stories, but that's all. I didn't care.
Years later, after I was turned onto Buk, I found those High Times stories and enjoyed them very much. They were sort of fantasy oriented. Fun. Light.
Eric G., creator of the World Suicide Club, told me about Buk in 1988 and lent me his copy of Post Office. I was hooked from the start and laughed many times. I enjoyed the voice on the page. For me, it's always the voice. And there are so very few I enjoy!
The first Buk book I bought was Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame. (Fourteenth Printing, 1988, Santa Rosa.) I bought it at Tower Books in Mountain View, California.
I didn't have any favourite poets before Buk. Had some favourite lyricists, but hadn't found any poets to champion. Besides Buk, I still haven't. I don't care for the work of any of his contempories or associates or friends. I don't even bother looking anymore. Don't care. Don't need it. I have not eaten all of the original Bukowski cookies. I have saved some pleasure for the years to come. I have yet to read Play the Piano..., Dangling..., and War All the Time.
I remain the you-know-what in the you-know-where.;)
I skimmed the stories, but that's all. I didn't care.
Years later, after I was turned onto Buk, I found those High Times stories and enjoyed them very much. They were sort of fantasy oriented. Fun. Light.
Eric G., creator of the World Suicide Club, told me about Buk in 1988 and lent me his copy of Post Office. I was hooked from the start and laughed many times. I enjoyed the voice on the page. For me, it's always the voice. And there are so very few I enjoy!
The first Buk book I bought was Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame. (Fourteenth Printing, 1988, Santa Rosa.) I bought it at Tower Books in Mountain View, California.
I didn't have any favourite poets before Buk. Had some favourite lyricists, but hadn't found any poets to champion. Besides Buk, I still haven't. I don't care for the work of any of his contempories or associates or friends. I don't even bother looking anymore. Don't care. Don't need it. I have not eaten all of the original Bukowski cookies. I have saved some pleasure for the years to come. I have yet to read Play the Piano..., Dangling..., and War All the Time.
I remain the you-know-what in the you-know-where.;)
Very good idea to 'save' some works to savor later in time...very good bro. Schenker
...tales of ordinary madness, 1982
Black Swan
Abord the Yorikke!
Hi! was married to Lovat thirty years ago. He lived behind a cloud of smoke and a pile of books. I was running around the house with a newborn baby.I blamed Bukowski for keeping my husband distant. Lovat was also a writer .He adored Buk and Celine. Lovat passed away in 2000 and left us a truckload of books and I have been reading most of his books along with my son and I just can relate to his way of thinking. Only now I regret not having shared Bukowski with Lovat.I am a painter and now I always quote Bukowski somewhere on the canvas. To me he is a buddy.
Black Swan
Abord the Yorikke!
My first was ham on rye. All fell into place. I was finally anchored.
My first was Ham on Rye. All fell into place. I was finally anchored
My first was Ham on Rye. All fell into place. I was finally anchored
Domator
Founding member
I discovered some www page about Roland Topor (French writer). I always like Topor, so when I saw banner to www about Bukowski i though that Topor and Bukowski must be similar writers. What a mistake! I ran to the libary at my school and borrow Hot water music. I just can't read this. It was so different than Topor's writing. I put Hot water music near my bed and forget about it. After week, when i read everything in house i found Bukowski's book again. I started read again, and man, IT WAS AMAZING. I read stories after stories and i wanna more! Since this time, Bukowski its my favorite writer. Ever.
While you burn fiercely in the hinterlands, could you explain what you stand for?
.. i never quite got it, then again, fuck objective interpretation.
Gimme your subject.
greetings.
About eight years ago while at college I saw a pretty girl reading Tales of Ordinary Madness and I liked the photograph of Bukowski on the cover, so I got a copy. I didn't much care for the stories. Now and then a brilliant line would shine through, but overall I was unimpressed. Those few lines, however, had me by the balls, you know? It made me interested enough to go to the library and read some of his poems. It didn't take more than a month before I had devoured all of his poems from the 60s and 70s. So, my encounter with Bukowski was fortuitous, and actually was one of the better accidents of my life, "for whatever marks an epoch in it came my way by accident."
I was visiting a friend outside Detroit in '85. He'd taken a job with GM, but there were already signs of trouble. Labor unrest, layoffs, closures. He had this apartment, which was nice and clean, but there wasn't any art on the walls, and he had only purchased a few sticks of furniture, making it look as if he could move out at a moment's notice. We'd gone out drinking the night before at a blues bar called the Soup Kitchen (probably gone by now). And the next morning I dragged my hangover into the bathroom and sat down on the can, without realizing there was no T.P. So I hollered until my buddy woke up and offered to drive the few blocks to a convenience mart and buy some. Before he left, he opened the bathroom door a crack and tossed a book in at me. It was Bukowski's Women. "This should keep you busy," he said. I was hooked. Never had a chance.
-Charlie
-Charlie
A Norwegian director filmed Factotum, but i never saw it until this winter, everything happend so fast, i've read a couple of books and some poems and shit. I went to Berlin last week and lived like him in a way, drinking and smoking, no fucking, but still, i do envy the ones with that lifestyle.
Have you guys ever tried writing while being drunk? It's shit, it's hard, how did he do it?
Have you guys ever tried writing while being drunk? It's shit, it's hard, how did he do it?