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Charles Bukowski'yi Sevmek ve Nefret Etmek
Genç, güzel şair ve heykeltıraş Linda King, 1970'lerde Los Angeles'ta yaşıyordu. Los Angeles Free Press için Pis Moruğun Notları’nı yazan yeraltı yazarı/şairi Charles Bukowski ile tanıştı. Büstünü yapmayı teklif etti. Sivilceleriyle yaralanmış yüzünü yontarken Bukowski mektupları, yazıları ve zekası ile onu baştan çıkarttı. Âşık oldular. Beş yıl süren sevgi ve nefret dolu, tutkulu ve esprili bir ilişkileri oldu.
Linda King bu birlikteliğin ve ayrılışlarının öyküsünü Bukowski’nin kendisi için yazdığı hiç yayımlanmamış şiirleri ve mektuplarıyla, fotoğraflarla anlatıyor. Amerikan yeraltı edebiyatından birçok simanın şahit olduğu büyük bir aşkın öyküsü...
Linda King bu birlikteliğin ve ayrılışlarının öyküsünü Bukowski’nin kendisi için yazdığı hiç yayımlanmamış şiirleri ve mektuplarıyla, fotoğraflarla anlatıyor. Amerikan yeraltı edebiyatından birçok simanın şahit olduğu büyük bir aşkın öyküsü...
- GenresMemoirNonfiction
356 pages, Paperback
First published March 17, 2012
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
July 5, 2018
লিন্ডা কিং আর বুকাওস্কির ৫ বছরের প্রেমের দলিল এই বইটা; বুকাওস্কিরে নিয়া তো বইয়ের অভাব নাই; কিন্তু এই বইটা রিড করলে মনে হয় যেন 'রিয়াল বুকাওস্কি' আমাগো সামনে বিয়ারের ক্যান নিয়া বইসা আছে; লিন্ডা তাগো উদ্দাম চোদাচুদির সবরকম আলাপ পর্দা না দিয়াই বর্ণনা করছেন; রস বাড়ানোর জন্য বর্ণনা করছেন এইরকম মনে হয় নাই; দরকার আছিল আখ্যানটা বর্ণনা করার। লিন্ডার কিছু কবিতা আছে এই বইয়ে; অইগুলার মতোই সৎ তাঁর আর বুকাওস্কির উদ্দাম সেক্স উইথ লাভ রিলেশন। বুকাওস্কির পারভাটনেস পুরা ফুইটা উঠছে এই বইতে। বুইড়া ভামটা যে কি পরিমাণ শয়তান আছিল আর কবিতা বাদে তাঁর লাইফের আর কোনো কিছুতে মোরালিটি আছে বইলা আমার মনে হয় নাই; বিয়ারের ক্যান গিল্লা, মাতাল থাইকা, মাইয়া লাগাইয়া নিয়মিতই সে একটাই কাম করতেন; সেইটা হইল 'কবিতা করা'। আর মাঝে মাঝে নিজের লাইফ নিয়াই ডার্টি নোটগুলা লেখতেন আন্ডারগ্রাউন্ড পত্রিকায় হরদম; নো সেন্সরশিপ :P ।
লিন্ডা যে ভাস্কর্যটা করতে গিয়া বুকাওস্কির কাছাকাছি হইছিল সেইটা এখন দুনিয়া ফেমাস। পরে তো শে বুকাওস্কির লগে কবিতার বইও বাইর করছিলেন। বুকাওস্কির অনেক গুলা চিঠি যেগুলা মাথায় চোদার ক্যারা কিংবা লিন্ডারে কাছে পাওয়ার খায়েশ হইলেই সে লিখত লিন্ডারে, অইসব চিঠি এই বইতে আছে। যাইহোক, এই সবকিছু লইয়া কামুক বুকাওস্কির স্মৃতিসমেত লিন্ডা এখনো বাঁইচা আছেন নিজের মতো কইরা। মানুষরে এগুলা জানাইতে পাইরা মেবি একটু রিলাক্সও আছেন এখন!
লিন্ডা যে ভাস্কর্যটা করতে গিয়া বুকাওস্কির কাছাকাছি হইছিল সেইটা এখন দুনিয়া ফেমাস। পরে তো শে বুকাওস্কির লগে কবিতার বইও বাইর করছিলেন। বুকাওস্কির অনেক গুলা চিঠি যেগুলা মাথায় চোদার ক্যারা কিংবা লিন্ডারে কাছে পাওয়ার খায়েশ হইলেই সে লিখত লিন্ডারে, অইসব চিঠি এই বইতে আছে। যাইহোক, এই সবকিছু লইয়া কামুক বুকাওস্কির স্মৃতিসমেত লিন্ডা এখনো বাঁইচা আছেন নিজের মতো কইরা। মানুষরে এগুলা জানাইতে পাইরা মেবি একটু রিলাক্সও আছেন এখন!
May 23, 2026
An okay book. King throws writing conventions to the wind. Here’s her philosophy: “I left off ings, s’s and twisted tenses. I was a professional mis-speller. I often didn’t see my mistakes when I reread my work. I needed my own personal editor. Who made the rules anyway? I could still write poetry and books. Who ruled that grammar and punctuation had anything to do with the ability to think or create? It didn’t.”
Loving and Hating has archival material (exchanged letters/poems, photographs) and new details that fill in some of the invisible blanks in the Bukowski mythos. King doesn’t pretend to be perfect. Or better. Right and wrong are played at, but not so seriously as to make a condemnation of herself or Bukowski.
So often Bukowski put each day on the page, all the tender and decadent moments, and explored them through the rough leather of his persona CHINASKI. Thus a level of reality is lost—how much fact is exchanged for style, for attitude, for intrigue? Maybe King is working in the same tradition, interest-making… but, aside from a single curious thread underlying the work (until the novel’s conclusion when it springs up and alive and full of breath), Loving and Hating sacrifices nothing for style. King doesn’t write about a Hank or Chinaski—just Bukowski, the man.
Read it after Women. It’s sad, pleasant, full of a mad love, a loving madness... King tells Bukowski, "Giving you pleasure only holds you away from your suffering." Ah.
Loving and Hating has archival material (exchanged letters/poems, photographs) and new details that fill in some of the invisible blanks in the Bukowski mythos. King doesn’t pretend to be perfect. Or better. Right and wrong are played at, but not so seriously as to make a condemnation of herself or Bukowski.
So often Bukowski put each day on the page, all the tender and decadent moments, and explored them through the rough leather of his persona CHINASKI. Thus a level of reality is lost—how much fact is exchanged for style, for attitude, for intrigue? Maybe King is working in the same tradition, interest-making… but, aside from a single curious thread underlying the work (until the novel’s conclusion when it springs up and alive and full of breath), Loving and Hating sacrifices nothing for style. King doesn’t write about a Hank or Chinaski—just Bukowski, the man.
Read it after Women. It’s sad, pleasant, full of a mad love, a loving madness... King tells Bukowski, "Giving you pleasure only holds you away from your suffering." Ah.
May 30, 2026
Loving and Hating Charles Bukowski
King Linda
After the reading, I walked up to him and said, “You don’t seem to like women too much.”
“Sure, baby. I love women.”
*****
I thought this would be the last time I would see Charles Bukowski. I already decidedhewas an alcoholic, chauvinistic and abusive…but he was also interesting. He was so bold and funny and he wasa writer.
*****
Who was this man? Such a good writer, but his attitude toward life was so bizarre. I didn’t think he knew much about women. The sensual complexities of lovemaking were missing.
*****
The female lib movement is just another spike driven home. The man is the one who needs LIBERATIONS.
C. Bukowski
*****
He seemed to have no fear or unusual reactions, as most people did, to my having been considered insane.
*****
He calmed me by describing a vision he had when he was young and alone in San Francisco sleeping ona parkbench. “I looked up and two angels were above me talking. One angel said, ‘He has so much talent.’ The other one said, ‘But, look how frightened he is.’ Then they disappeared.”
On this visit he didn’t come on to me. He just kept painting and seemed careful not to scare me away. When I left and drove through Griffith Park back to Burbank, the sun was coming up over the mountain. Only then did I realize that we'd talked all night, time had gone by so fast.
*****
The Troll, as he has told Linda, the Troll is a stupid man, and that’s why he hides and writes...almost masochistically torturing himself with his failure. The Troll is stupid, but the Troll is not a fool. It is only the fool who does not realize that he is stupid.
*****
He called one day and asked if I wanted to ride to the beach and meet his daughter, Marina. We picked her up at her mother’sapartment and went down to Venice Beach. Marina looked like her father with long thick brown braids to her waist. A sprinkle of freckles crossed her nose. She was shy, but I could see she dearly loved her father.
*****
I could tell he was sensitive about his looks
*****
I have more feeling and power and inventiveness than any man you’ll ever meet the rest of your life, and the little half-shits, the dancers are the phoniest of the lot.
*****
Both of us have been wrong in our ways but I suppose my ways have been more wrong. Let’s let us not kill the thing we love.
*****
He had the ability to make everything seem so alive.
*****
At one event in Long Beach, Bukowski was supposed to do two readings in one day. After the first reading everyone went out and got drunk in Locklin’s favorite bar. The drinking went on all afternoon. At night when Bukowski was supposed to read again, it was a disaster. I made a tape recorded the reading. He was reading so slow, he lost his audience and they began yelling things at him. He stopped reading and started yelling back.
“What do you think of Sputnik, Bukowski,” one guy yelled.
Bukowski gave him a long look and said. “Why don’t you go fuck your Jewish grandmother.”
*****
Bukowski liked a hissing, snarling crowd. I’ve heard him say,“I like to feel their hatred.”
*****
My father, that old chauvinist, died. Somehow he didn’t think of a way to take his money with him and this failure set me up for another few years to lead the lazy life.. sculpturing, writing, poetry, writing novels...nice. He’d never have allowed this alive
*****
I know my feminist sisters out there are saying, “How could any woman love Charles Bukowski?”Well, we don’t get along. But I do love him. I’ve been with him two years and this war has been akin to one of the major world wars
*****
I was lying on the bed and the first thing I heard Bukowski say was,“She’s pretty, but she’s got a lot of lesbian in her.”I got so mad. He acted like a superior asshole all night and then the first thing he says to John Bennett, no less, is that I’m a lesbian.
*****
“You asked women to fuck you right in front of me, that’s your show, but if I give someone a little kiss hello, it’s assassination time. You can’t be with anyone becauseyou don’t fuck’en know how. You think you’re so superior, but you don’t even know how to have fun. All you know is how to insult.”.
“You’re nothing butshit,”he sneered.
Igrabbed him and we wrestled around and both fell into the fireplace.
*****
Apparently at the party after the reading Bukowski was going to give people what they wanted. When Ginsberg came in, Bukowskishouted, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have Allen Ginsberg as guest of honor tonight. Can you believe it, Allen Ginsberg. A man of genius, the first poet to cut through light and consciousness for two thousand years and these bastards don’t even appreciate it. Have a drink, Allen.”
He put a glass in Allen’s hand and undid what he had just said by adding, “God, it’s good to see you, Allen, really. I don’t care if you are a fake.Did you hear that folks? Washed up. Everybody knows that after Howl you never wrote anything worth a shit. How about that folks, a vote? Has Allen written anything worth a shit since Howl and Kay...dish?” He was slurring his words and acting like a drunken jackass. He haddrunkenough to sink a sail boat.
“COME ON YOU BASTARDS, LET’S PARTY,” he shouted to the crowd.
*****
Tomorrow he would never remember anything hedid that night. I knew that creepy, ugly, cockroach,Slimewho inhabited Bukowski when he got too drunk. He wouldn’t even know me because I’d just had my hair cut. I was right, he didn’t see me all night.
*****
I knew I could never stop seeing him while I lived in L.A. I wasa fool. I kept going back to him no matter what shitty way he treated me.
*****
I cried when he left, but not because he was going. I was crying over what we had and lost. I had loved him with such intensity.
King Linda
After the reading, I walked up to him and said, “You don’t seem to like women too much.”
“Sure, baby. I love women.”
*****
I thought this would be the last time I would see Charles Bukowski. I already decidedhewas an alcoholic, chauvinistic and abusive…but he was also interesting. He was so bold and funny and he wasa writer.
*****
Who was this man? Such a good writer, but his attitude toward life was so bizarre. I didn’t think he knew much about women. The sensual complexities of lovemaking were missing.
*****
The female lib movement is just another spike driven home. The man is the one who needs LIBERATIONS.
C. Bukowski
*****
He seemed to have no fear or unusual reactions, as most people did, to my having been considered insane.
*****
He calmed me by describing a vision he had when he was young and alone in San Francisco sleeping ona parkbench. “I looked up and two angels were above me talking. One angel said, ‘He has so much talent.’ The other one said, ‘But, look how frightened he is.’ Then they disappeared.”
On this visit he didn’t come on to me. He just kept painting and seemed careful not to scare me away. When I left and drove through Griffith Park back to Burbank, the sun was coming up over the mountain. Only then did I realize that we'd talked all night, time had gone by so fast.
*****
The Troll, as he has told Linda, the Troll is a stupid man, and that’s why he hides and writes...almost masochistically torturing himself with his failure. The Troll is stupid, but the Troll is not a fool. It is only the fool who does not realize that he is stupid.
*****
He called one day and asked if I wanted to ride to the beach and meet his daughter, Marina. We picked her up at her mother’sapartment and went down to Venice Beach. Marina looked like her father with long thick brown braids to her waist. A sprinkle of freckles crossed her nose. She was shy, but I could see she dearly loved her father.
*****
I could tell he was sensitive about his looks
*****
I have more feeling and power and inventiveness than any man you’ll ever meet the rest of your life, and the little half-shits, the dancers are the phoniest of the lot.
*****
Both of us have been wrong in our ways but I suppose my ways have been more wrong. Let’s let us not kill the thing we love.
*****
He had the ability to make everything seem so alive.
*****
At one event in Long Beach, Bukowski was supposed to do two readings in one day. After the first reading everyone went out and got drunk in Locklin’s favorite bar. The drinking went on all afternoon. At night when Bukowski was supposed to read again, it was a disaster. I made a tape recorded the reading. He was reading so slow, he lost his audience and they began yelling things at him. He stopped reading and started yelling back.
“What do you think of Sputnik, Bukowski,” one guy yelled.
Bukowski gave him a long look and said. “Why don’t you go fuck your Jewish grandmother.”
*****
Bukowski liked a hissing, snarling crowd. I’ve heard him say,“I like to feel their hatred.”
*****
My father, that old chauvinist, died. Somehow he didn’t think of a way to take his money with him and this failure set me up for another few years to lead the lazy life.. sculpturing, writing, poetry, writing novels...nice. He’d never have allowed this alive
*****
I know my feminist sisters out there are saying, “How could any woman love Charles Bukowski?”Well, we don’t get along. But I do love him. I’ve been with him two years and this war has been akin to one of the major world wars
*****
I was lying on the bed and the first thing I heard Bukowski say was,“She’s pretty, but she’s got a lot of lesbian in her.”I got so mad. He acted like a superior asshole all night and then the first thing he says to John Bennett, no less, is that I’m a lesbian.
*****
“You asked women to fuck you right in front of me, that’s your show, but if I give someone a little kiss hello, it’s assassination time. You can’t be with anyone becauseyou don’t fuck’en know how. You think you’re so superior, but you don’t even know how to have fun. All you know is how to insult.”.
“You’re nothing butshit,”he sneered.
Igrabbed him and we wrestled around and both fell into the fireplace.
*****
Apparently at the party after the reading Bukowski was going to give people what they wanted. When Ginsberg came in, Bukowskishouted, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have Allen Ginsberg as guest of honor tonight. Can you believe it, Allen Ginsberg. A man of genius, the first poet to cut through light and consciousness for two thousand years and these bastards don’t even appreciate it. Have a drink, Allen.”
He put a glass in Allen’s hand and undid what he had just said by adding, “God, it’s good to see you, Allen, really. I don’t care if you are a fake.Did you hear that folks? Washed up. Everybody knows that after Howl you never wrote anything worth a shit. How about that folks, a vote? Has Allen written anything worth a shit since Howl and Kay...dish?” He was slurring his words and acting like a drunken jackass. He haddrunkenough to sink a sail boat.
“COME ON YOU BASTARDS, LET’S PARTY,” he shouted to the crowd.
*****
Tomorrow he would never remember anything hedid that night. I knew that creepy, ugly, cockroach,Slimewho inhabited Bukowski when he got too drunk. He wouldn’t even know me because I’d just had my hair cut. I was right, he didn’t see me all night.
*****
I knew I could never stop seeing him while I lived in L.A. I wasa fool. I kept going back to him no matter what shitty way he treated me.
*****
I cried when he left, but not because he was going. I was crying over what we had and lost. I had loved him with such intensity.
August 8, 2017
Wow, this was great!
I have a better understanding of Bukowski's work and a new love for Linda King. Excellent read, a few errors in the digital format but not to the point of distraction.
I have a better understanding of Bukowski's work and a new love for Linda King. Excellent read, a few errors in the digital format but not to the point of distraction.
June 24, 2015
I just loved reading it.
August 12, 2018
Kitap bukowski'yi bir kadının gözünden görmek için büyük firsat. Ama bukowski'nin kitaplarından tanıdığımız ukala ve bencil linda'yı görüyoruz okudukça. Bir yazarla onca yıl beraber vakit geçirmiş bir kadının kaleminin daha kuvvetli olmasını beklemek belki de bencillik. Ama yibe de bukowski sevenlerin mutlaka okuması gereken bir kitap. Yer yer çok eğlendim çok güldüm ama Linda'nın şiirleri berbat bunu da kabul etmek gerek
Read
November 21, 2021Via Kindle unlimited
February 1, 2023
This was beautiful and heartbreaking and familiar, and helped me understand Bukowski much better
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews