- Series: Absolute Zero (Book 1)
- Paperback: 576 pages
- Publisher: Ecco; 1st edition (December 2, 2008)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 0061228443
- ISBN-13: 978-0061228445
- Product Dimensions: 6 x 1.2 x 9 inches
- Shipping Weight: 2.1 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
- Average Customer Review: 68 customer reviews
- Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #88,777 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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The Pleasures of the Damned: Poems, 1951-1993 Paperback – Other Calendar, December 2, 2008
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“This long and well-edited collection is likely to stand as the definitive volume of Bukowski’s poems.” (New York Times Book Review)
About the Author
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 1920 in Andernach, Germany, to an American soldier father and a German mother, and brought to the United States at the age of two. He was raised in Los Angeles and lived there for over fifty years. He died in San Pedro, California, on March 9, 1994, at the age of seventy-three, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.
Abel Debritto, a former Fulbright scholar and current Marie Curie fellow, works in the digital humanities. He is the author of Charles Bukowski, King of the Underground, and the editor of the Bukowski collections On Writing, On Cats, and On Love.
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Bukowski wasn't cute or pretty in his writing...he wrote what he saw around him with an awake and aware in-the-moment presence that is reality. Reality is not pretty or kind. I love his writing for that.
Also I found the words to his dead love in the poems "for Jane: with all the Love I had, Which Was Not Enough:", "Notice", and "for Jane" more touching than anything I have read in a long time. The grief he felt was enormous, world wrecking and I identified with that grief since I lost my husband and soul mate two years ago. I cried on the evening train reading these poems and found myself saying aloud "He KNEW!"
No one that has lost such an integral part of themselves is able to express that sort of gut wrenching of a tribute without having truly loved and suffered greatly.
He made me laugh, think, gasp at the rawness of life I remember seeing living in the outskirts of San Francisco in the 70's. He took down a memory lane of my own childhood and re-examine myself in a way I haven't in a very, very long time.
I never met you, Chuck, but I feel like I knew you, I would buy you a drink at the races if I could. Thank you for being so brutishly honest and more clean in your observations about the world than 80% of the population.
Bukowski clean? Oh, yeah.
He stripped down things to what they actually are instead of what society likes to pretend them to be. That to me is a clean, healthy lungful of fresh air! He was vulgar in his language, but in case you haven't really stepped out of your cubicle or hide-y hole...the world IS vulgar, uncivilized and mean and a vast majority of us in the lower classes (which is damn near anyone under a million anymore) lives with that. We're your elderly on the pensions and social security, waitresses, garbage men, retail sales people, and secretaries. You know, the ones the upper classes can't live without because we are the professional maids and nannies and buttwipers making minimum wage to slightly over, but still in the poverty level that make their world go round. We see the unsanitized and unedited truth. Mother Nature is one cruel mother. Bukowski had the balls to say it!
Thank you again for your humanity and insight.
However, if you like honest emotion, straightforward observations of the human condition that ring with truth, and you have sufficient maturity to acknowledge a certain amount of coarse verbiage sometimes expresses reality, this is, maybe, the only poetry book you'll ever want.
you'll be turned on and
You'll see yourself,
and want to take a good, hot shower afterwards.