This is another exceptional biography by Howard Sounes. About 20 years ago, I read Down the Highway, his in-depth biography on Bob Dylan, on par with Clinton Heylin's Behind the Shades. (Those are probably the two best Dylan biographies).
This is the first biography I have read on Bukowski so I cannot compare it with the others, but based on what I have heard and read, this biography seems to be the most accurate and thorough to date. However, having said that, at the same time I felt that a writer as prolific as Charles Bukowski (who friends referred to as 'Hank'), who ended up (surprisingly) living until the age of 73, deserves an even more in-depth biography. This is definitely good enough, but here and there, I felt Sounes was skipping through his life and career quite quickly.
To sum up what I felt about this book: Sounes gave a very flattering portrait of Bukowski the writer/poet and artist, but a very unflattering portrait of Bukowski the person. It's a warts-and-all biography and I came away thinking 'damn, that Bukowki was a real asshole to some people'. But Bukowski was indeed complicated. Although he could be very vicious and cruel when drunk, he could be the sweetest and nicest person when sober.
Reading this biography confirmed for me what Jack Micheline once said about Bukowski in an interview - he said Bukowski was really kind, open and somewhat vulnerable before he became famous, but the fame really changed him, and that came through in this biography. Once he became a 'big shot' writer, he started treating some of his friends very poorly. The story about how he treated William Wantling, who had been so looking forward to meeting Bukowski, and then Wantling going off and drinking himself to death was really sad. And Bukowski didn't stop there. He then had the nerve to try and seduce Wantling's wife after her husband had passed away. What kind of person does that?
Therefore, this book made me realize, all over again, that we can respect someone for their art and work, but not necessarily for who they are as a person. So while I certainly enjoy reading Bukowski's books, and look forward to reading many more (he was very prolific), I am certainly glad that I no longer idolize him (about 15 years ago, when my life was going nowhere and I was heading for a divorce, I started idolizing the Henry Chinaski character, unfortunately, but have learnt since what a stupid idea that was ...).
If you are a fan of Bukowski's work, I recommend this but be warned, you might end up liking the poet/writer more than the man. At least, that's how I feel now.