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Charles Bukowski is one of America's best-known contemporary writers of poetry and prose, and, many would claim, its most influential and imitated poet. He was born in Andernach, Germany, and raised in Los Angeles, where he lived for fifty years. He published his first story in 1944, when he was twenty-four, and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. He died in San Pedro, California, on March 9, 1994, at the age of seventy-three, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
19 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
It's so easy to be a poet but so hard to be a man.,
By
This review is from: Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit (Paperback)
A friend of mine handed me this book and said that when she read them she wanted to throw Bukowski on the table and jump on top of him. Intrigued, perhaps a bit jealous, I plunged into this book. My only knowledge of Bukowski had been the little biographical notes from Beat literature books or things like that. I was under the impression that I was going to get a beating from some cold unemotional degenerate, or something akin to the dry wit of William S. Burroughs. Not so. Bukowski's work is rich with emotion, but not sap. It is not the poetry of little delicate flowers and holding hands in the park; no, with this poetry you have to walk through a drunken hell before you can look at a woman with that special feeling of affection, before you can feel the grace of hearing classical music on the radio. Or maybe you can spend the in between time betting on horses, eating a sandwich, or just trying to understand a little bit about life. Just dont' ask for any more than what's already here. Because herein lies all the secrets. Snapshots of heaven and hell, and how they are both right in front of us, whichever we see at the time.
11 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A good introduction to Bukowski's poetry,
By SPM "scott_maykrantz" (Eugene, Oregon) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit (Paperback)
This book is like a 'greatest hits' from the 1970s for Bukowski. Ranging from 1970 to 1979, these poems show him working on familiar themes, but he's getting better at expressing himself. His chaotic life is drawing to a close as he settles into married life in the 1980s. These poems are more focused than his earlier efforts, but also a little looser --- he's able to sum up a mood, a day, or an old friend in half a page of non-rhyming verse. These poems are full of wry humor and romance, a far cry from his reputation for booze and sullen moods. If you haven't read his poetry, try this book. You'll find out what kind of writer Bukowski was. It's sure to inspire you to read more of his great work.
15 of 18 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Sex, booze, and poetry,
This review is from: Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit (Paperback)
"Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit" is a collection of poetry by the prolific Charles Bukowski. In a down-to-earth, vernacular free verse, Bukowski poetically explores a number of recurring themes: women and sex, gambling and games of chance, alcohol, cigarettes, his life as a poet, and other writers.I see Bukowski as a sort of literary philosopher-satyr who often writes about the crude, seedy side of life. Some of my favorite poems from this collection are as follows: "fire station," a bawdy, boozy narrative poem; "a radio with guts," about the narrator's drunken abuse of the title item; and "interviews," an ironic reflection on encounters with "young men from the underground / newspapers and the small circulation / magazines." In this book the reader will encounter junkies, drunks, and various colorful characters. Bukowski's tone is sometimes melancholy; often the bawdy life of his poems is haunted by the specter of death. And I was intrigued by his occasional literary references: to Dos Passos, Mailer, Rimbaud, Hemingway, and others. Overall, a compelling volume.
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