The John Fante Reader Kindle Edition

Stephen Cooper has done more justice to telling Fante's story than anyone. It is Steve Cooper who has brought Fante's stories back into the limelight again, giving him the voice he so desperately needed (and deserved) when he was alive. The John Fante Reader is a fantastic compilation of stories from all of Fante's work. From beginning to end, the reader is allowed to follow Fante on his journey as a young boy and into adulthood. This is a fabulous read if you have yet to be indoctrinated into the world of Fante as well as if you already love Fante and his out-of-control imagination and storytelling. This Reader puts together little bits and pieces of his best work. I have not laughed as much as I did reading the escapades of Fante's characters, or cry. He is raw and human and so alive in all of his writing. You won't be sorry for having read this. In fact, it will probably prompt you to run out and buy all of his books and read them one by one. It is almost like being teased, only getting to read bits and pieces from each story here. But they are fabulous stories, nonetheless.
I love this book and that stems largely from the fact that I love Fante. You don't have to be Catholic or ITALIAN to appreciate him. A huge thank you to Steve Cooper for putting this out in the world for everyone to enjoy.

I think the reviewer, Queequeg, who thought this book 'Racist, Mysogynist, and Dated,' missed the point completely. That she is calling him a 2nd rate Steinbeck demonstrates that she cannot read Fante for he is, 'an original voice'. Secondly, her statement that he is 'quaint and offensive' by today's standards' says it all. Today's standards?! Please! Today's standards are hardly a yardstick by which to measure great literature. 'Today's standards' are themselves 'offensive'. Great literature by it's very definition is that which has stood the test of time and Fante, though underrated and overlooked, has and will!! Long live John Fante!!

I somehow couldn't get through Fante's Ask the Dust but this collection has me riveted. It's raw, powerful stuff and I'm embarrassed to find so much I admired in a more famous writer (Chinaski) apparently lifted from here (ample credit given, albeit). This is wrenching stuff. How did Fante's reputation get sidetracked? Kind of reminds me of another great writer, Richard Yates, who somehow got lost in the shuffle --jaw-droppingly awesome stuff that just went thwooop over the heads of the "important" critics.

The John Fante Reader edited by Stephen Cooper is an excellent introduction to Fante's work. The book contains a generous sampling of short stories as well as extensive excerpts from the author's more lengthy literary offerings. Also included are a number of personal letters written by Fante over a 50 year period.

According to Charles Bukowski, John Fante was the be all and end all of 20th century novelists. That assessment may or may not be true. But one can state with a fair degree of certainty that he was a very good writer indeed. His writing is very clear, highly evocative and consistently contains dialogue that rings true.

Much of Fante's work is very intense, uninhibited, gritty and at times disquieting. The author's Italian heritage and his Roman Catholic upbringing serve as strong influences on his work.
Recommended to readers interested in acquainting themselves with an author who was unafraid to explore some of the darker corners of his own mind.

Charles Bukowski wrote:"Fante was my God.." That admiration came from the mind of one not given to excessive praise lightly. Fante, born in Denver in 1909, grew up in an Italian American family plagued by prejudice and poverty. In his most acclaimed work he captured the rhythms of Los Angeles in prose.
This John Fante Reader is composed of excerpts from his novels and stories. Underappreciated in his time, twenty years after he died, John Fante' s voice broke through and he became an icon. Much of his style is autobiographical.
Maria Scarpi wanted to be a nun. She was a rebel, beautiful, opinionated with large sparkling eyes. She met Guido Toscana, who snarled his importance, during a parade. He blew cigar smoke at her, followed her home, and asked her to marry him. Now, her face was lined with fatigue, but in the old photo that her son stole from a locked trunk, she was beautiful. The author, her son, believed his father had kidnapped her. She allowed this belief. He needed ideals.
Svevo Bandini lived three blocks away. He patched holes in his shoes with cardboard. He was a bricklayer and he hated winter. His house was his enemy. It had a parrot like voice, always talking to him. The house said, "You do not own me and I will never belong to you." The house heckled him with it's idiotic self independence. At times, he wanted to blow it to bits. In thirteen years the house gained in arrogance, but Svevo Bendini no longer cared. The cold hypnotized his fingers. The knotted shoelace was obstinate as barbed wire. Svevo suffered with an aching soul. Arturo scuffled with his brothers and broke a pane of glass. He hated everything around him. Above all, he hated his own face spotted with freckles like ten thousand pennies poured over a rug.
This is a sampling of the mesmerizing excerpts written by John Fante about his childhood growing up poor, loving everything despite the hardship.