What do you think?
Rate this book
ON DRINKING
The definitive collection of works on a subject that inspired and haunted Charles Bukowski for his entire alcohol Charles Bukowski turns to the bottle in this revelatory collection of poetry and prose that includes some of the writer’s best and most lasting work. A self-proclaimed “dirty old man,” Bukowski used alcohol as muse and as fuel, a conflicted relationship responsible for some of his darkest moments as well as some of his most joyful and inspired. In On Drinking , Bukowski expert Abel Debritto has collected the writer’s most profound, funny, and memorable work on his ups and downs with the hard stuff—a topic that allowed Bukowski to explore some of life’s most pressing questions. Through drink, Bukowski is able to be alone, to be with people, to be a poet, a lover, and a friend—though often at great cost. As Bukowski writes in a poem simply titled “Drinking,”: “for me/it was or/is/a manner of/dying/with boots on/and gun/smoking and a/symphony music background.” On Drinking is a powerful testament to the pleasures and miseries of a life in drink, and a window into the soul of one of our most beloved and enduring writers.
320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2019
203 people are currently reading
1870 people want to read
About the author
Charles Bukowski
848 books30k followersHenry Charles Bukowski (born as Heinrich Karl Bukowski) was a German-born American poet, novelist and short story writer. His writing was influenced by the social, cultural and economic ambience of his home city of Los Angeles.It is marked by an emphasis on the ordinary lives of poor Americans, the act of writing, alcohol, relationships with women and the drudgery of work. Bukowski wrote thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories and six novels, eventually publishing over sixty books
Charles Bukowski was the only child of an American soldier and a German mother. At the age of three, he came with his family to the United States and grew up in Los Angeles. He attended Los Angeles City College from 1939 to 1941, then left school and moved to New York City to become a writer. His lack of publishing success at this time caused him to give up writing in 1946 and spurred a ten-year stint of heavy drinking. After he developed a bleeding ulcer, he decided to take up writing again. He worked a wide range of jobs to support his writing, including dishwasher, truck driver and loader, mail carrier, guard, gas station attendant, stock boy, warehouse worker, shipping clerk, post office clerk, parking lot attendant, Red Cross orderly, and elevator operator. He also worked in a dog biscuit factory, a slaughterhouse, a cake and cookie factory, and he hung posters in New York City subways.
Bukowski published his first story when he was twenty-four and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. His first book of poetry was published in 1959; he went on to publish more than forty-five books of poetry and prose, including Pulp (1994), Screams from the Balcony (1993), and The Last Night of the Earth Poems (1992).
He died of leukemia in San Pedro on March 9, 1994.
Charles Bukowski was the only child of an American soldier and a German mother. At the age of three, he came with his family to the United States and grew up in Los Angeles. He attended Los Angeles City College from 1939 to 1941, then left school and moved to New York City to become a writer. His lack of publishing success at this time caused him to give up writing in 1946 and spurred a ten-year stint of heavy drinking. After he developed a bleeding ulcer, he decided to take up writing again. He worked a wide range of jobs to support his writing, including dishwasher, truck driver and loader, mail carrier, guard, gas station attendant, stock boy, warehouse worker, shipping clerk, post office clerk, parking lot attendant, Red Cross orderly, and elevator operator. He also worked in a dog biscuit factory, a slaughterhouse, a cake and cookie factory, and he hung posters in New York City subways.
Bukowski published his first story when he was twenty-four and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. His first book of poetry was published in 1959; he went on to publish more than forty-five books of poetry and prose, including Pulp (1994), Screams from the Balcony (1993), and The Last Night of the Earth Poems (1992).
He died of leukemia in San Pedro on March 9, 1994.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 206 reviews
May 6, 2022
i am a woman of many flaws but my biggest flaw will forever be that i - to my dismay - enjoyed this book very much and that i will probably read more Bukowski. you can throw tomatoes at me, i deserve it 😔
March 11, 2024
“When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat.”
You wouldn't think this would be a four star book, a posthumously collected series of anecdotes and poems focused on one of Buk's two central loves, drinking and writing, though the two went hand in hand (one hand with a beer, one hand typing) for him. They are most often excerpts from his various books, but they are thoughtfully arranged, mostly chronological, so a kind of arc emerges from the seven decades of drinking, where the early years seem funnier and the later years sadder. Like a night of drinking, itself!
Unapologetic, outrageous, mainly played for laughs, but you get some self-reflection. Though never with regret, even when he describes hospital stays, near-death experiences. .Early on as I listened to it on a few walks, I actually laughed aloud a number of times, and smiled most of the time.
Here's some quotes that will be familiar to his fans:
"That's the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen."
"being drunk at the typer (typewriter) beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen or known or heard about
like Joan of Arc, Cleopatra, Garbo, Harlow, M.M. or any of the thousands
that come and go on the celluloid screen
or the temporary girls I’ve seen so lovely
on park benches, on buses, at dances and parties, at
bull fights, mud wrestling, roller derbies, pie sales,
being drunk at this typer beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen"
“Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.”
You wouldn't think this would be a four star book, a posthumously collected series of anecdotes and poems focused on one of Buk's two central loves, drinking and writing, though the two went hand in hand (one hand with a beer, one hand typing) for him. They are most often excerpts from his various books, but they are thoughtfully arranged, mostly chronological, so a kind of arc emerges from the seven decades of drinking, where the early years seem funnier and the later years sadder. Like a night of drinking, itself!
Unapologetic, outrageous, mainly played for laughs, but you get some self-reflection. Though never with regret, even when he describes hospital stays, near-death experiences. .Early on as I listened to it on a few walks, I actually laughed aloud a number of times, and smiled most of the time.
Here's some quotes that will be familiar to his fans:
"That's the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen."
"being drunk at the typer (typewriter) beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen or known or heard about
like Joan of Arc, Cleopatra, Garbo, Harlow, M.M. or any of the thousands
that come and go on the celluloid screen
or the temporary girls I’ve seen so lovely
on park benches, on buses, at dances and parties, at
bull fights, mud wrestling, roller derbies, pie sales,
being drunk at this typer beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen"
“Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.”
March 19, 2021
What a book to read on a Christmas day. Contains some of Bukowskis best poems. Some of the short stories and snippets, I have read before. What a man he was. There are billions of us here, more being born everyday, but only one Buk.
Three of my favorite poems from this collection:
short non-moon shorts to nowhere
you
no faces
no faces at all
laughing at nothing
let me tell you
i have drunk in skidrow rooms with imbecile winos
whose cause was better
whose eyes still held some light whose voices retained some sensibility
and when the morning came
we were sick but not ill
poor but not deluded
and we stretched in our beds
and rose in the late afternoon
like millionaires
this
being drunk at the typer (typewriter) beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen or known or heard about
like
Joan of Arc, Cleopatra, Garbo, Harlow,M.M. or any of the thousands that come and go on the
celluloid screen
or the temporary girls I’ve seen so lovely
on park benches, on buses, ,at dances and parties, ,at
beauty contests, cafes, circuses, parades, departmentbukow.typwriter
sotres, skeep shoots, balloon flys, auto races, rodeos,
bull fights, mud wrestling, roller derbies, pie bales,
churches, volleyball games, boat races county fairs,
rock concerts, jails, laundromats or wherever
being drunk at this typer beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen or
known.
the replacements
Jack London drinking his life away while
writing of strange and heroic men.
Eugene O’Neill drinking himself oblivious
while writing his dark and poetic
works.
now our moderns
lecture at universities
in tie and suit,
the little boys soberly studious,
the little girls with glazed eyes
looking
up,
the lawns so green, the books so dull,
the life so dying of
thirst.
Three of my favorite poems from this collection:
short non-moon shorts to nowhere
you
no faces
no faces at all
laughing at nothing
let me tell you
i have drunk in skidrow rooms with imbecile winos
whose cause was better
whose eyes still held some light whose voices retained some sensibility
and when the morning came
we were sick but not ill
poor but not deluded
and we stretched in our beds
and rose in the late afternoon
like millionaires
this
being drunk at the typer (typewriter) beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen or known or heard about
like
Joan of Arc, Cleopatra, Garbo, Harlow,M.M. or any of the thousands that come and go on the
celluloid screen
or the temporary girls I’ve seen so lovely
on park benches, on buses, ,at dances and parties, ,at
beauty contests, cafes, circuses, parades, departmentbukow.typwriter
sotres, skeep shoots, balloon flys, auto races, rodeos,
bull fights, mud wrestling, roller derbies, pie bales,
churches, volleyball games, boat races county fairs,
rock concerts, jails, laundromats or wherever
being drunk at this typer beats being with any woman
I’ve ever seen or
known.
the replacements
Jack London drinking his life away while
writing of strange and heroic men.
Eugene O’Neill drinking himself oblivious
while writing his dark and poetic
works.
now our moderns
lecture at universities
in tie and suit,
the little boys soberly studious,
the little girls with glazed eyes
looking
up,
the lawns so green, the books so dull,
the life so dying of
thirst.
April 3, 2019
Drinking
for me
it was or
is
a manner of
dying
with boots on
and gun
smoking and a
symphony music
background.
drinking alone,
I mean.
that’s the only
drinking—
drinking alone
being alone
fitting the parts
feeling the parts.
of course
drinking can
kill
you
a cold shower
can
or a painting by
Gaugin
or an old dog
on a hot
day.
I would have to suppose
that one thousand swallows
crossing your marble
overhead
sky
at once
could do
it.
that’s why I
drink: waiting for
something like
that.
Drunk
ol’ Bukowski
drunk
I hold to the edge of the table
with my belly dangling over my
belt
and I glare at the lampshade
the smoke clearing
over
North Hollywood
the boys put their muskets down
lift high their green-fish beer
as I fall forward off the couch
kiss rug hairs like cunt
hairs
close as I’ve been in a
long time.
for me
it was or
is
a manner of
dying
with boots on
and gun
smoking and a
symphony music
background.
drinking alone,
I mean.
that’s the only
drinking—
drinking alone
being alone
fitting the parts
feeling the parts.
of course
drinking can
kill
you
a cold shower
can
or a painting by
Gaugin
or an old dog
on a hot
day.
I would have to suppose
that one thousand swallows
crossing your marble
overhead
sky
at once
could do
it.
that’s why I
drink: waiting for
something like
that.
Drunk
ol’ Bukowski
drunk
I hold to the edge of the table
with my belly dangling over my
belt
and I glare at the lampshade
the smoke clearing
over
North Hollywood
the boys put their muskets down
lift high their green-fish beer
as I fall forward off the couch
kiss rug hairs like cunt
hairs
close as I’ve been in a
long time.
January 5, 2022
This was amazing..
or was it? … I don’t even know
or was it? … I don’t even know
September 18, 2021
„desigur
băutul te
poate
ucide
o poate face
și-un duș rece
sau un tabloul de
Gauguin
sau un câine bătrân
într-o zi
caniculară.”
Așadar, despre băut, băutură și bețivi numai de bine, în această antologie tipic bukowskiană, care marșează pe unul dintre subiectele sale preferate (alături de femei și de scriitori și scris). Antologie care vă poate face o imagine asupra omului și scriitorului Charles Bukowski, fiind compusă atât din fragmente din romanele sale cunoscute, din poezii, dar și din mici texte inedite, pentru prima oară publicate, din scrisorile trimise de el, din interviurile date la diferite televiziuni și din manuscrise scoase la iveală de soția sa.
Cum e „băutura” lui Bukowski? Continuă, creativă, fără număr. Bukowski este, se poate spune așa, un băutor profesionist și are ce ne învăța :)
băutul te
poate
ucide
o poate face
și-un duș rece
sau un tabloul de
Gauguin
sau un câine bătrân
într-o zi
caniculară.”
Așadar, despre băut, băutură și bețivi numai de bine, în această antologie tipic bukowskiană, care marșează pe unul dintre subiectele sale preferate (alături de femei și de scriitori și scris). Antologie care vă poate face o imagine asupra omului și scriitorului Charles Bukowski, fiind compusă atât din fragmente din romanele sale cunoscute, din poezii, dar și din mici texte inedite, pentru prima oară publicate, din scrisorile trimise de el, din interviurile date la diferite televiziuni și din manuscrise scoase la iveală de soția sa.
Cum e „băutura” lui Bukowski? Continuă, creativă, fără număr. Bukowski este, se poate spune așa, un băutor profesionist și are ce ne învăța :)
September 14, 2020
Fani Bukowskiego będą zachwyceni, a przeciwnicy dostaną pewnie mocny oręż do ręki po lekturze “O piciu”. Nie jest to lektura ani przyjemna, ani szczególnie łatwa, ale wiele mówiąca o samym autorze.
Bukowski był pisarzem obsesyjnym, któremu nie zależało na “poetyczności”, a na tym, by po prostu pisać, przechodzić do kolejnego wersu, oszczędnie i czasem aż zbyt prosto. Jest w tym nie tylko szalony i bezkompromisowy, ale też niezwykle odważny. Pisze autobiograficznie, z brutalną szczerością, która chwilami może sprawiać wrażenie wykalkulowanej na pokaz. Ale ja - w przeciwieństwie do Michała Kłobukowskiego, z którym rozmowę możecie znaleźć na mojej stronie internetowej - wierzę Bukowskiemu. Niestety, bo przecież zmasowany atak tekstów o piciu i upijaniu się nie ułatwia człowiekowi niezbyt drinkującemu, wieczoru. Sam Bukowski przyznawał, że napisał “mnóstwo gówna”, na szczęście Abel Debritto wynorał dla nas perełki.
W “O piciu” znajdziecie teksty tłumaczone przez Krzysztofa Obłuckiego (większość nowych fragmentów), ale też Marka Fedyszaka, Piotra Madeja, Lesława Ludwiga, Michała Przybysza, Roberta Sudoła, Jana Kelusa, Leszka Engelkinga, Michała Kłobukowskiego i Teresę Tyszowiecką-Tarkowską. Fantastycznym zadaniem było wyłuskiwanie ich tłumaczeń i przyglądanie się jak widzę frazę Bukowskiego, która z racji pozornej prostoty jest niezwykle trudna w przekładzie.
Debritto przyznaje w wywiadach, że w archiwach wciąż jest ponad tysiąc niepublikowanych wierszy Bukowskiego, zatem jest na co czekać, a póki co bardzo was zachęcam do sięgnięcia po “O piciu”, albo inny tom jego tekstów wydawanych w tej fantastycznej serii przez Noir Sur Blanc, zwłaszcza że cena - 3 dychy - cały czas mnie zaskakuje.
Tom kończy wiersz “puls wina” (tł
Bukowski był pisarzem obsesyjnym, któremu nie zależało na “poetyczności”, a na tym, by po prostu pisać, przechodzić do kolejnego wersu, oszczędnie i czasem aż zbyt prosto. Jest w tym nie tylko szalony i bezkompromisowy, ale też niezwykle odważny. Pisze autobiograficznie, z brutalną szczerością, która chwilami może sprawiać wrażenie wykalkulowanej na pokaz. Ale ja - w przeciwieństwie do Michała Kłobukowskiego, z którym rozmowę możecie znaleźć na mojej stronie internetowej - wierzę Bukowskiemu. Niestety, bo przecież zmasowany atak tekstów o piciu i upijaniu się nie ułatwia człowiekowi niezbyt drinkującemu, wieczoru. Sam Bukowski przyznawał, że napisał “mnóstwo gówna”, na szczęście Abel Debritto wynorał dla nas perełki.
W “O piciu” znajdziecie teksty tłumaczone przez Krzysztofa Obłuckiego (większość nowych fragmentów), ale też Marka Fedyszaka, Piotra Madeja, Lesława Ludwiga, Michała Przybysza, Roberta Sudoła, Jana Kelusa, Leszka Engelkinga, Michała Kłobukowskiego i Teresę Tyszowiecką-Tarkowską. Fantastycznym zadaniem było wyłuskiwanie ich tłumaczeń i przyglądanie się jak widzę frazę Bukowskiego, która z racji pozornej prostoty jest niezwykle trudna w przekładzie.
Debritto przyznaje w wywiadach, że w archiwach wciąż jest ponad tysiąc niepublikowanych wierszy Bukowskiego, zatem jest na co czekać, a póki co bardzo was zachęcam do sięgnięcia po “O piciu”, albo inny tom jego tekstów wydawanych w tej fantastycznej serii przez Noir Sur Blanc, zwłaszcza że cena - 3 dychy - cały czas mnie zaskakuje.
Tom kończy wiersz “puls wina” (tł
July 4, 2023
..kad ražīgs un ietekmīgs autors vairs nav pie dzīvības, cilvēki ņem un ik pa laikam sakārto reiz uzrakstīto pa tēmām un izdot atsevišķos vākos. Bukovskim, piemēram, ir ne viena vien šāda tipa grāmata (vēl ir par kaķiem, par mīlestību, par utt.). par dzeršanu, šķiet, viņš savulaik izteicies vissulīgāk, jo Bukovskis pirka dzērienus, lai rakstītu un viņam maksāja par uzrakstīto, lai pēc tam nopelnīto naudu varētu notriekt dzērienos. tieši tik vienkārši. un lai gan neesmu vēl paguvis izlasīt pilnīgi visu, ko šis vecais perelis ir uzrakstījis, šis nudien bija līdz asarām skaisti. gribas vēl un vēl... šī ir viena sasodīta bībele. uzreiz sakārojās iedzert (to arī tagad daru. uzjaucu saldināto rumu ar kolu, ja kas). | 5+*
December 31, 2019
I wasn't a fan of Bukowski before I read this book. I'm still not, but I wasn't before, either.
Read
October 13, 2024Charles Bukowski's poetry reminds me a lot of Taylor Swift's and that's all I have to say about that
May 30, 2019
"that's the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself another drink..."
Charles Bukowski is my favorite poet ever. It's the most shameful thing about my reading life, even more shameful than what I used to read 4 years ago, but it is what it is, we love who we love and that's all.
I think of all the four books with similar titles and theme this is the most Charles Bukowski one. Not "On Love" even though it's a good books, and not "On Cats' because he doesn't strike me as a cat person. The kind of thing that associates with his name would be "On hating women" or "On being sad" and, yes, "On Drinking.".
This book has less poems than short stories about Charles and a few pages of some of his novels or some letters.
I've never drunk alcohol my entire life, and in most likelihood never will, but I liked his thoughts about it. I have about two full pages' worth of quotes on drinking and why did he do it.
February 15, 2019
'Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you of your body and your mind and throws you up against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn. I guess I've lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.' -Charles Bukowski , from the interview "Paying for Horses".
This gem of a collection will most likely be the most accessible for the half-way fans and the curious.
This gem of a collection will most likely be the most accessible for the half-way fans and the curious.
February 6, 2022
Băutura și dezmățul merg mână în mână cu scrisul pentru Bukowski, orice zi e o dramă existențială care trebuie depășită cu multă băutură, mai poetice decât halbele de bere nesfârșite pot fi doar femeile, sau paharele de scotch, Bukowski pierde numărul paharelor așa cum nu mai știe de câte ori a vizitat secția de poliție sau și-a luat bătaie prin baruri. Combinația dintre alcool și scris e un fapt firesc, e o regăsire și o fugă de realitate banală, Bukovski le-a trăit pe toate ; ani de mizerie și sărăcie cruntă, ani de ignoranță din parte tuturor, falit și mereu certat cu părinții; beția îi aduce inspirația și curajul de care are nevoie, fiind un adolescent cu probleme dermatologice grave, Bukowski mărturisește că a lipsit un an de la școală pentru că fața i-a devenit o rană vie, antisocial și timid, se apucă de băutură încă de pe la 16-17 ani în scopul regăsirii sinelui sau ca să-și motiveze ratarea personală; Analogia Despre băutură reunește poezii precum și texte extrase din cele mai cunoscute opere ale sale: Șuncă pe pâine, Factotum, Poșta etc. Mi-a fost drag să-mi reamintesc de ele, ca o analiză sordidă a propriul eu, Bukowski nu renunță niciodată, nu pare un individ îngenunchiat sau pregătit să moară din te miri ce cauza, nici chiar atunci când e transportat la spital de urgență cu o hemoragie severă după ani și ani de băutură pe rupte și uitare de sine... Despre băutură reunește texte și poezii care mai de care: comice, triste, din tinerețe sau de la capătul vieții lui Bukowski, foarte relaxant volum, l-am parcurs într-o noapte, de fapt, îmi era dor de o reîntâlnire cu Bukowski- mestrul ratării, al poezii și băuturii fără seamăn, e cool să te regăsești în ceva ce respingeai altă dată, Charles Bukovski!
January 15, 2023
I am just shocked that Bukowski lived long enough to write all these poems
October 20, 2022
Na každý malý aspekt života se dá naroubovat tématická sbírka. U Buka můžete pokračovat: O psacích strojích, O dostizích, O... Z těchhle publikací "O..." (za kterými stojí stejný editor) cítím víc než cokoliv, jen snahu podojit fanoušky těmihle "Best of" kompilačkami. Bukowski sám odesílal spoustu věcí vícekrát, taky někdy protlačil stejné věci do vícero textů jinak (báseň, povídka, román), takže to, že u něj máte jakýsi pocit deja vu, že jste už něco četli, není nic až tak neobvyklého, kolikrát to je vše přefiltrováno natolikrát, že už vás to prakticky otravuje, ale on se Bukowski celkově ve své tvorbě dost opakuje, jako každý spisovatel, jenže Hank to uměl správně okecávat, tímhle právě zjistíte ryzí literární kvality. Velikou část tohohle textu tvoří výseky z jeho románů (z nichž některé jsem četl za poslední roky), je tu i spousta básní, rozhovorů, dopisů, fotek, ilustrací, kterými se to zahustí (a o kterých se kolikrát řekne, "wow, tohle je nově objevená povídka a básně, ale to máme tak na 15-20 stránek" a tak se udělá něco jako tohle). Nechci tu sbírku jen hanit, samotný obsah byl fajn, protože jsem teď od Hanka už nějakou dobu nic nečetl a pořád patří mezi mé nejoblíbenější autory, ačkoliv musím přiznat, že s odstupem času začínám vidět některé věci jinak a líbí se mi na něm míň a míň. Hanka čtu už šestnáct let, jako první jsem četl někde online povídku "Kopulující kalifornská mořská panna" a pak jsem si krátce nato v Olomouci koupil "Příběhy obyčejného šílenství" (tahle edice or Arga je celkově, nejobsáhlejší edice, kterou ve své knihovně vlastním) a musím říct, že tahle tematická vyhraněnost na jednu věc delšímu textu prostě nesvědčí. Sice jsem se opět dozvěděl něco málo zajímavých informací (třeba, že napsání "Post Office" zabralo 19 dní a že si z psaní moc nepamatuje, jen to, jak ráno byly stránky (asi dost podobný okno, jaký měl King během psaní Misery, když ještě dával lajny), nebo, že s časem zjistíte, že "nepotřebujete dívku svých snů, ale jen tu, která nebude noční můra") o jeho pohledu na chlast, což pro mě bylo do jisté míry bolestnou připomínkou, že jsem nedlouho zpátky musel z přesně těch důvodů rozejít cesty s jedním člověkem, kterého jsem dlouho považoval za jednoho z nejbližších přátel, a hlavní roli v tom hrál právě chlast a spoustu z těch věcí, co tu Bukowski popisuje, kam ho to, ať už v tvorbě, nebo životě, popohánělo, jak to z něj udělalo "nesmrtelného", pomohlo mu to se sebedůvěrou, nebo jen najít způsob, jak kráčet životem... ale o tom by vám řekl každý alkoholik, nebo lépe řečeno, neřekl, ukázal by vám to. Mělo to pasáže a části, co mě bavily, ale víceméně takový vlažný průměr, spíš mě iritovalo to, jak se tímhle ždíme a že velkou část těch textů znám, kolikrát se zde užívají i věci, ve kterých se sám Bukowski vyloženě opakuje, do věty, protože jsou zde výseky, kde se ho ptali v odlišných show na stejnou věc a to už člověka pak začne doslova srát. Ale bavily mě třeba detaily, jako popis jeho pohledu na to, jak ho pozvali do Francie a skoro nic si nepamatoval z TV pořadu, kde se objevil, ten lakonický projev, odpálkování pitomců. V mnohém mě to pořád umí stejně bavit. Ale asi jsem se tím prostě za ty roky přežral a tak si do budoucna-budu-Buka dávkovat jen po malých doušcích.
September 29, 2023
So good. Needed to get out of reading slump and this one yanked me out of it by the nutsack
July 29, 2025
20%
Bailed at 20%.
Till now, I hadn't read anything by this guy in over 25 years; I didn't remember how full of shit he was. I last read him when I was hard up for books in English and he probably seemed pretty good compared to the Chinese-dumpster that had to suffice back then. (It really is astonishing the crap that actually gets published. Just imagine how bad the rejected stuff is.)
It's like reading William S. Burroughs, but with subject-verb-predicate sentences. Dope-takers can't even do that. The problem with drunks is that the sentences don't add up to paragraphs, they don't entertain, or even make a lot of sense. Dopers also scramble the word order inside the sentences, so they're not sentences at all.
Drunks can't write paragraphs; dopers can't write sentences.
But drunks can usually tell a decent story. Bukowski can't. Pretty sad state of affairs when you have such a treasure of drunken antics yet can't salvage even one entertaining anecdote from it.
He's like so many other pen-to-paper stars: I can't figure how he got such a good reputation. But that's a puzzle I'm often faced with: I don't know how Taylor Swift, Shakespeare, Merle Streep, Picasso, Stravinsky, or even Liberace got so famous either.
Maybe he's famous because of his poetry. As I've often said, I just can't read poetry. I don't get what people get out of it at all. Frankly, I don't think anyone likes poetry, they just pretend, so people don't think they're dumbasses. You know how it goes -- whole generations, even civilizations, have been gaslit with all kinds of things and you're in for a hard time of it if you don't go along.
I paid 16 bucks for this piece of shit, but I bailed anyway. At least my streak of J.D. MacDonald crapolas have only been a couple of bucks each. And even the worst of them has had some kind of story, even when it was just a love story or my-kooky-family-lol. After all, even watching Seinfeld is better than watching the random histrionics of a soccer game.
Bailed at 20%.
Till now, I hadn't read anything by this guy in over 25 years; I didn't remember how full of shit he was. I last read him when I was hard up for books in English and he probably seemed pretty good compared to the Chinese-dumpster that had to suffice back then. (It really is astonishing the crap that actually gets published. Just imagine how bad the rejected stuff is.)
It's like reading William S. Burroughs, but with subject-verb-predicate sentences. Dope-takers can't even do that. The problem with drunks is that the sentences don't add up to paragraphs, they don't entertain, or even make a lot of sense. Dopers also scramble the word order inside the sentences, so they're not sentences at all.
Drunks can't write paragraphs; dopers can't write sentences.
But drunks can usually tell a decent story. Bukowski can't. Pretty sad state of affairs when you have such a treasure of drunken antics yet can't salvage even one entertaining anecdote from it.
He's like so many other pen-to-paper stars: I can't figure how he got such a good reputation. But that's a puzzle I'm often faced with: I don't know how Taylor Swift, Shakespeare, Merle Streep, Picasso, Stravinsky, or even Liberace got so famous either.
Maybe he's famous because of his poetry. As I've often said, I just can't read poetry. I don't get what people get out of it at all. Frankly, I don't think anyone likes poetry, they just pretend, so people don't think they're dumbasses. You know how it goes -- whole generations, even civilizations, have been gaslit with all kinds of things and you're in for a hard time of it if you don't go along.
I paid 16 bucks for this piece of shit, but I bailed anyway. At least my streak of J.D. MacDonald crapolas have only been a couple of bucks each. And even the worst of them has had some kind of story, even when it was just a love story or my-kooky-family-lol. After all, even watching Seinfeld is better than watching the random histrionics of a soccer game.
July 6, 2022
3,5 ⭐
Pur și simplu nu știu care e faza despre acest om 😁, dar munca lui mă captivează, și această colecție specială, care constă din poezie, nuvele, fragmente din memorii, interviuri, fragmente din diferitele sale romane (desigur legate de băutură) și scrisori către prieteni și asociați, este foarte captivantă, distractivă, plină percepții unice și vii în toate extremele sale.
Bukowski este cu adevărat u maestru, și nici una dintre colecțiile sale înainte de aceasta nu dovedește asta mai mult. El documentează mahmureala, violența și haosul cauzat de beție (fie că este vorba de lupte în bar sau războaie cu femei), cum îl inspiră de fapt băutura „demonică” și diferența dintre un băutor adecvat și un fals. Este prezent umorul negru de cele mai multe ori, iar lipsa de speranță și dezinteresul față de oamenii plictisitori, normali și sensibili, pe care îi găsește atât de îngrozitori, nu pot să nu inspire chicoteli, mai ales prezetate și prin sarcasm.
În această colecție, Bukowski susține că „o mulțime de oameni care beau nu sunt deloc bărbați, nu sunt aproape nimic”... el este unul dintre puținii care, în ciuda faptului că a îmbrățișat alcoolismul, a ajuns să devină ceva cu mult mai mare decât „ aproape nimic.” Sunt uimită că încă mai scot la atâțea ani de la moartea lui lucruri care au o calitate și o valoare substanțială.
Pur și simplu nu știu care e faza despre acest om 😁, dar munca lui mă captivează, și această colecție specială, care constă din poezie, nuvele, fragmente din memorii, interviuri, fragmente din diferitele sale romane (desigur legate de băutură) și scrisori către prieteni și asociați, este foarte captivantă, distractivă, plină percepții unice și vii în toate extremele sale.
Bukowski este cu adevărat u maestru, și nici una dintre colecțiile sale înainte de aceasta nu dovedește asta mai mult. El documentează mahmureala, violența și haosul cauzat de beție (fie că este vorba de lupte în bar sau războaie cu femei), cum îl inspiră de fapt băutura „demonică” și diferența dintre un băutor adecvat și un fals. Este prezent umorul negru de cele mai multe ori, iar lipsa de speranță și dezinteresul față de oamenii plictisitori, normali și sensibili, pe care îi găsește atât de îngrozitori, nu pot să nu inspire chicoteli, mai ales prezetate și prin sarcasm.
În această colecție, Bukowski susține că „o mulțime de oameni care beau nu sunt deloc bărbați, nu sunt aproape nimic”... el este unul dintre puținii care, în ciuda faptului că a îmbrățișat alcoolismul, a ajuns să devină ceva cu mult mai mare decât „ aproape nimic.” Sunt uimită că încă mai scot la atâțea ani de la moartea lui lucruri care au o calitate și o valoare substanțială.
May 16, 2023
Cu Bukowski nu merge "hai sa mai încerc o carte de-a lui sa vad dacă îmi place sau nu ca autor....ori te cucerește din prima,ori nu te va cuceri niciodată!
Cartea de fata este,ca și celelalte scrise de el de o sinceritate dureroasa. Pe mine cu asta ma cucereste de fiecare data. Nu a incercat nicio secunda sa impresioneze,sa scrie frumos pentru a fi citit...ci a scris ce a simtit din pura pasiune pe care o avea in sânge. M-a trecut prin toate stările, de la zâmbet la dezgust și înapoi...m-am mirat de zeci de ori de relaxarea cu care povestea orice eveniment petrecut în viata lui si m-a făcut sa ma gândesc cum ne șlefuieste suferința pe fiecare în parte ... unii doar lupta,altii doar renunță...iar alții doar se lasa purtați de viață...
Cartea de fata este,ca și celelalte scrise de el de o sinceritate dureroasa. Pe mine cu asta ma cucereste de fiecare data. Nu a incercat nicio secunda sa impresioneze,sa scrie frumos pentru a fi citit...ci a scris ce a simtit din pura pasiune pe care o avea in sânge. M-a trecut prin toate stările, de la zâmbet la dezgust și înapoi...m-am mirat de zeci de ori de relaxarea cu care povestea orice eveniment petrecut în viata lui si m-a făcut sa ma gândesc cum ne șlefuieste suferința pe fiecare în parte ... unii doar lupta,altii doar renunță...iar alții doar se lasa purtați de viață...
December 17, 2021
I don’t know why I bothered reading this past the halfway mark when I knew I was going to hate all of this. Bukowski seems like the embodiment of so many stereotypes about artists and geniuses, like the tortured artist or this idea that a lot of male geniuses are completely insufferable assholes, and we are expected to tolerate it. The one thing that I’ll give him is that his writing is evocative and concise, and he seems to be self aware, especially late in his life, which makes it all the more baffling that he can’t see what a misogynist he is. I wanted to give him one more shot and to see what he had to say about drinking as an alcoholic, but his writing just fails to impress me and I feel like he buys into his own bullshit too much. To end on a positive note, It was nice towards the end when he realized that he doesn’t need to drink to write.
April 16, 2019
I like reading Charles Bukowski a lot. But I already have a lot of his books and this is basically a "best of". It's a great starter book for the uninitiated. But I had already read more than half the book from reading so many of his past books. But all in all it's a good read.
February 19, 2019
Truly sounds like he lived a horrible life, but I have absolutely fallen in love with the way he used words. Powerful stuff. I will read more.
April 22, 2019
What a drinker and what a writer.
November 25, 2021
For those who love Bukowski
I had consumed Bukowski previous in short doses, his quotes, his poetry- but I had never sat down and read straight through a collection of his works. This is an amalgamation of poems, interviews, short stories of his life, all on the theme of his life long, turbulent love affair with booze.
Going in I was expecting the more lighthearted fun musings and anecdotes; an evening drinking with Bukowski. I had some whiskey set aside for the occasion. Here however, you get the more gritty underbelly of a big league alcoholic, and suddenly you are in company with a cautionary tale.
Reading this bled into the next day, and so I got to share in both the buzz of the spirits the night before, and the throbbing burr of the head that is it's toll. Fitting I think, for the subject matter.
This was an unputdownable read for me. Bukowski's way of writing is very direct and unadorned. While there are other writers who are much more skilled at arranging words in beautiful ways, or imaging intriguing characters and worlds, where Bukowski has got most beat is his worldview coupled with his real world experience. For anyone who has seen the world and found themselves dissatisfied, self identifies as introverted, or is neurodivergent, there is a kinship that is sharply felt when reading Bukowski.
I guess that's why it never mattered his fiction was mediocre, his accounts- his work is categorized as Dirty Realism- are ugly, but refreshingly so. Bukowski was called by Time,"laureate of American lowlife," a humorous & apt title, one I think he didn't much mind.
I had consumed Bukowski previous in short doses, his quotes, his poetry- but I had never sat down and read straight through a collection of his works. This is an amalgamation of poems, interviews, short stories of his life, all on the theme of his life long, turbulent love affair with booze.
I raised my glass and drained it. “You’re just hiding from reality, you’ll never be a writer if you hide from reality.”
“What are you talking about? That’s what writers do!”
Going in I was expecting the more lighthearted fun musings and anecdotes; an evening drinking with Bukowski. I had some whiskey set aside for the occasion. Here however, you get the more gritty underbelly of a big league alcoholic, and suddenly you are in company with a cautionary tale.
“I mean,” he goes on, “that you represented a man walking carelessly and bravely into death, foolishly but with style like Don Quixote, the windmills . . .”
“don’t tell anybody,” I answer, “and maybe we can save the image or at least prolong it . . .”
Reading this bled into the next day, and so I got to share in both the buzz of the spirits the night before, and the throbbing burr of the head that is it's toll. Fitting I think, for the subject matter.
Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you up against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.
This was an unputdownable read for me. Bukowski's way of writing is very direct and unadorned. While there are other writers who are much more skilled at arranging words in beautiful ways, or imaging intriguing characters and worlds, where Bukowski has got most beat is his worldview coupled with his real world experience. For anyone who has seen the world and found themselves dissatisfied, self identifies as introverted, or is neurodivergent, there is a kinship that is sharply felt when reading Bukowski.
“Writers are mostly dissatisfied with life as life and with people as people, etc. Writing is an attempt to explain, escape and change the outrageous forces which make us more than unhappy. Drinking is a chemistry which also rearranges our horizons for us. It gives us two ways to live instead of one.”
I guess that's why it never mattered his fiction was mediocre, his accounts- his work is categorized as Dirty Realism- are ugly, but refreshingly so. Bukowski was called by Time,"laureate of American lowlife," a humorous & apt title, one I think he didn't much mind.
one morning I was sitting at the window facing the street and these two delicate boys walked by.
“hey,” I heard one of them say,“that old guy in there is really wild and weird, he’s like a Neanderthal man who has broken his chain.”
I really appreciated that: recognized at last.
May 29, 2021
"I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn. I guess I've lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now."
The book consists of poems, short stories, letters and interviews.
Bukowski was an alcoholic, so I was thinking he had a lot to say on drinking. Especially I was wondering about his taste in drinks (brands etc.). In some interviews it was mentioned a little. But that's it.
It was just another Bukowski book. I like to read about his life but I'm kind of dissapointed.
The book consists of poems, short stories, letters and interviews.
Bukowski was an alcoholic, so I was thinking he had a lot to say on drinking. Especially I was wondering about his taste in drinks (brands etc.). In some interviews it was mentioned a little. But that's it.
It was just another Bukowski book. I like to read about his life but I'm kind of dissapointed.
March 7, 2021
Буковски е толкова истински в писането, колкото е в начина си на живот. Бих го нарекъла суров, без излишни завъртулки и помпозности. Пиенето не е проста работа и има своя ритъм. Буковски живее с този ритъм, създаващ условия за падения и паднали маски. Пия за Буковски, но не като Буковски... това си остава в писането за пиенето.
August 14, 2021
Rating mic doar pentru că e o antologie, conținând fragmente din cărțile sale pe care deja le citisem. Poemele nu-s genul meu, așa că le-am sărit.
January 17, 2026
Bukowski was a pivotal link in the cultural chain, a private voice whose unfiltered honesty quietly reshaped everything that came after. ( some one said ) I would agree
March 24, 2021
I read this as I am reading books related to alcohol while I myself am trying to avoid it. This was the most triggering of anything I read and had me desperately debating with myself over whether to go home and start drinking while at the same time being filled with both disgust and sympathy for the writer who is clearly addicted. Somehow he manages to make it sounds delicious and luxurious while at the same time abhorrent. Interesting.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 206 reviews