Krumhansl's labor of love is only for the die-hard Bukowski fanatic. It consists of descriptions of Buk's books, chapbooks, broadsides, and "special" magazine appearances (i.e. when Buk was the only, or main, contributor). But if you're like me (a big fan), there was nothing new to the book, I hadn't heard of maybe one or two of the items. Regardless, the pictures, of some of the rarer pieces, and the history of these publications, is imminently interesting. And the broadside poem, available only in the deluxe editions of the book, is a knockout. Of course, the collector (or ebay addict) can reference the book for print runs, etc., to determine just how "rare" certain items are. Krumhansl has done a great job cataloguing Buk's massive output (156 items are listed, which is amazing in and of itself, but think of the tens of thousands of magazine appearances Bukowski also had!), and has compiled a last will and testament for one of this century's greatest writers!

I just had to revise my review of Aaron Krumhansl's Bukowski Bibliography, and give it the 5 stars it deserves. This is a must buy for the seasoned AND novice Bukowski collector! And as the chap from Vicarious Books notes, Krumhansl is a cool cat for sure.

Krumhansl has done an EXCELLENT job at presenting the monstrous Bukowski cannon in an attractive and precise, yet manageable, bibliographic construct. He is also quite a dude, I'm told.

Gay Brewer has written one of the most readable and useful books in the Twayne series. Bukowski, a prolific writer, has often been beyond the reach of critics, either because of the literary world's shunning of him, or because there just doesn't seem to be much more to say about poems & short stories which speak for themselves. Brewer gives a plain-spoken and useful critique of Buk's work, one which both scholars and the casual reader of Bukowksi will find useful.

Brewer's book on Bukowski is top-notch literary criticism without any of the usual academic jargon. No pedantry either! Amazing. Academics should read it just to get an idea how to write. Bukowski fans should read it to realize how much more substantial Bukowski's work really is.

This book bounces all over the place, though it's written in such a freeform style that nothing necessarily needs to make sense,and the sentences that run on for a couple of pages without punctuation can get tiresome. But definitely reccomended for CB fans... he speaks his truest.

Will jar the senses. Nothing cute here. The author, Bukowski, barely holding on by his fingertips (before he started to make any money with his literary eforts.) Highly recommend it to anyone who preffers the real to the slickly put together phony books out there by so-called writers being published by the bloated, greedy East Coast houses who don't know what the hell they're doing. Why so harsh? Because I don't see any originality in books put out by them, that's why. How can that be? Ask them. In their desperate, stupid efforts to make every book a sure-fire best-seller they put editors on it who beat all originality right out of these manuscripts. Thus, usually, we are left with unreadable garbage lacking real style and/or originality. And Bukowski? Well, the reason Black sparrow took him on is because his writing was not about that phony slickness that so often New York publishers seem to want and pay the big bucks for (only to fall on their butts--more often than not). Bukowski's style brings to mind another writer or two: Kirk Alex (Working the Hard Side of the Street), Dan Fante: Mooch, Spitting off Tall Buildings, etc. Buy it, read it, and find out what life was like for the man who brought you Post Office, Hollywood, and other masterpieces before the well-earned rocognition towards the latter part of his life. Sadly, he is no longer with us, but his books are. For that we are grateful. Our hat is off to John Martin at Black Sparrow. Thank you, sir, for publishing the books.

In Reach for the Sun: Selected Letters 1978-1994, Volume 3, Charles Bukowski is once again revealed as the legendary poet slash literary critic slash self-publicist he was. We see the workings, the behind-the-scenes business letters to editors (most to New York Quarterly's William Packard, to whom Bukowski dedicated his Run with the Hunted collection), his publisher John Martin and various writers and book collectors. Calculating, vindictive, repetitive and self-obsessed as they are, many of the rants are humorous...yet sometimes the reader is laughing at the one-man show and his unironic [sic] contradictions. "Good move to get out of New York," he writes to Stephen Kessler on January 29, 1993; the book's very next letter (written on the same day) to Packard begins: "Just received NYQ #49. I am honored..." Was he running out of outlets for his work? He slams Marvin Malone, the late editor of The Wormwood Review, writing him off in late '91 as getting "...too picky but I feel that he is picking wrong. As the years go on I see him more and more printing the comfortable poem." As the years went on, Bukowski went back on his word (see previous volumes 1 and 2) and did write forewords to poetry collections by obscure poets like Douglas Goodwin. Again, it seems another business-minded decision by the master. The backstabbing is tempered by insight into Bukowski's life during his last years, making Reach for the Sun a must-read for Buk fans. Regardless of its sometimes pandering subject matter and petulance.

As a long-time reader of Buk,and a friend to whom he wrote,I was deeply interested in what a few more letters from the last years might tell me about this spectacular American writer. I learned a lot. He made wise poetry out of his correspondence, and this writing is as good as any of his other writing. It's full of specifics, about writers, about Peformance poets (whom he detested),about writing versus 'getting famous',about the botched biography of him written by N. Cherkovski,about his leukemia,about his contempt for Hollwood, and about his dying. Mostly, it's about the courageous and outrageous word-wizard, Bukowski, slinging his attitudes to those who were listening,about how to keep life alive when so many around are just making life into a dead boring heap of competition. It is likely one his wisest books, and his humor jolts out frequently at the oddest times, creating that laugh-out-loud shock of the Real as he lays his defining cement with the coolest, toughest trowel ever used by an American writer.This is more of Bukowski at his best, especially for those who like to read between the lines.

It's a pleasure to see some new names in this latest volume from Black Sparrow, new Bukowski correspondents that is. Douglas Goodwin, a poet whose work so turned on Bukowski that Buk wrote a Foreword to Goodwin's SLAMMING IT DOWN poetry volume - the only foreword Bukowski wrote for any poet during the last l5 years of Buk's life. Many letters written to poet Gerald Locklin are published herein.One main theme of these letters is Bukowski's reaction to the biography of Bukowski written by Neeli Cherkovski. Fascinating brilliant commentary from the subject of a biography focused like a burning searing laser beam on a biographer this time. Mr. Cherkovski - take note!"Reach For The Sun" indeed. But just buy this book - don't burn yourself! This letters collection is worth ten+ times what the book sellers are asking.

I was hoping to gain some new insights into the writer/man that was Bukowski by reading this collection of journal writings. To be honest, not much new ground was covered. I did find out out about a failed TV deal I'd never heard of, and some other trivial points, but nothing much deeper. The R. Crumb drawings are worth the price of the book, and well, hell it's Bukowski so I enjoyed it. This is, however, one of the few Buk books I haven't read more than twice, which is as close to a "bad" review as I can get.

This book has over a dozen nice drawings by R. Crumb, that visualize many different scenes from the text. These are very nicely done, with great care. Cool!

The Bukowski text seems to be pretty mild and entertaining. There is very little hard edged insight, but you do get safe, humorous insights from the point of view of a veteran troublemaker who has somehow lucked into the "good life," happily married and resigned to retire in more dignity than the first part of his troubled life allowed. Buk seems pretty happy with life.

This book is like diary entries from the early 1990's. Buk is slowly dying of tuberculosis, which will finally kill him in 1994. In the meantime, he writes with the satisfaction of knowing that he can entertain the anonymous reader (don't show up in his face thinking you're his buddy just cuz you've read his stuff). The anonymous reader being the only type of reader that he can respect and appreciate.

Buk writes about some insightful traits of human nature in this book, as usual. The difference being that by the early 1990's, he has seemed to already released and vented the anger and pain of his younger days, in the writings of past decades.

Reading this book is like hanging out with Buk, listening to him spin tales about what he's been up to lately. He's a grouchy old man, but he likes to be read, so he writes to make it worth your while.

This book is probably better suited for confirmed Buk fans. Newcomers would be better off reading his novels from the 1970's and early 1980's, if interested in experiencing the writing that he is famous for. This book is a posthumous page-turner, with little of the famous Buk BITE, but it is a pleasant read. The only problem being that most folks don't want to read Bukowski because he's pleasant. Most folks seek him out because he's caustic.

If Bukowski has been meaningful to you, then this book is a fitting cap to the earlier pomes and novels. I find it gratifying to see the old man living and reflecting, and perhaps suffering a bit less.

As usual, Crumb's illustrations are the perfect complement. Nobody can visualize Buk like Crumb can.

Highly recommended after you've read already gotten to know Bukowski. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

I like this novel, but certain passages I felt like I read in other novels by Bukowski. It's a pleasure to read, but not as smooth as some of his other works. He basically goes from job to job, occasionally having a fling, getting drunk, or going to the track. If you're a Bukowski fan, buy this book only after you've read Post Office (dealing with a terrible job), Ham on Rye (childhood through adolescent), and Women (sex). Certain passages make this a must read - but other Bukowski books are better.

'We chatted and after a few minutes a girl came in and handed John the check. He reached across the desk and handed it to me. A decent guy. I heard later that he died soon after that, but Jan and I got our beef stew and our vegetables and our French wine and we went on living.'

Once again meet Henry Chinaski as he makes his way through dozens of jobs only to find his way back to the nearest bar. Forever down on his luck, Chinaski always seems to find a way out as he makes his way across America in search of work and women.

Factotum (1975), Bukowski's first book after Post Office (see my review), is funnier AND written in a slightly sharper style than his first effort (he still hasn't found his 'final' style, but in this, his second book, he is much closer.) Filled with more sex , more booze, and satirical commentary that is sure to make you never want to work again, Factotum is essential for any Bukowski fan and not a bad place to start for those still unfamiliar with the great Hero of the Gutter. Read this to find out what one of America's greatest poets was doing when he wasn't writing.

I've lent my Bukowski books out many times. Handing them back to me people always say the same two things: 'He's so honest,' and 'He does and says things I wish I had the balls to do.'

I'm going to keep this review short and simple for you. This is the second book Bukowski wrote, and its a really good place to start if you are looking to get into Bukowski. The book is filled with short chapters that involve the years Bukowski called his "ten year drunk." The book chronicles his road trip around the United States, just at the time he was starting to become famous.

Its a quick read that includes many of the offbeat and unique observations that this guy makes about the world. You'll laugh every page.

Be careful, though. Reading Bukowski can completely change the way you look at things. The day after reading this book you'll have a little less regard for the little things that usually bother people, and a little more confidence in yourself.

I was completely enthralled by Bukowski's short story compilation, "The most beautiful woman in town," and eagerly tore into "Tales of ordinary madness." I was quite dissapointed.

He has his moments of brilliance; the man's writing style and work with the short story have forever changed America's literary scene. The thing is, he seems to know this, and his hightened self-awareness is glaringly evident in many of the stories in "Tales." He's overly concious of himself and his growing significance, yet he continues to wine and cry about his condition in life. Does he want attention, or to be left alone, or both?

We're reminded in several stories how tough life's been to him and what a raw hand he was dealt; never mind the fact his idea of self-improvement is downing tall cans of beer until sunrise.

He also seems to feel a constant need to brag about his growing status as a poet, yet he constantly bashes poets in general - sending the reader more contradicting messages at every turn.

I guess a combination of whining and evident egocentricism has made me less a Bukowski fan following this particular work. I wanted less name-dropping, boasting (okay, you know music too, Buk - you're a misunderstood genius, we get it) and whining.

But his writing and those rare sentences scattered throughout the work which achieve a level of true artistic status still make the book worth a read.

This book disgusted me. This book aroused me. This book yucked me out. This book made me laugh. This book made me sad. This book was well written. This book was nowhere I've ever been. This book made me want to date Bukowski. Even if he is dead.

Salvador Dali was quoted "The only difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad." Bukowski is mad. Crazy and angry. Then again, perfectly sane and rather sedate. This book is a series of short stories which are part auto-biography and part fiction (most combining elements of both.) Bukowski writes from the gut with vividness and candor that will most assuredly guarantee this book will never make it to any high school reading lists. Look at it like this: you walk into a bar one night because you are bored out of your skull. You sit next to a man who talks your ear off. He's a veteran alcoholic and social deviant but you find his talk strangely intriguing. Soon you realize you've spent four hours talking to this nut and you've been thoroughly entertained. You aren't sure which of the stories he's told you are true, and it doesn't really matter. It's been a good night. Now you can go back home and face your wife. Life is good.

Charles Bukowski's work is fixated upon the underbelly of society, where the unctuous underachieving degenerate is glorified, low-life living is made normal, and alcoholism and crime not only flourish but are revered.

In his short story 'GUTS' Bukowski describes what is the ubiquitous theme common to all of his work: 'I've always admired the villain, the outlaw, the [SOB]. I don't like the clean-shaven boy with the necktie and the good job. I like desperate men, men with broken teeth and broken minds and broken ways'I also like vile women, drunk cursing [b's] with loose stockings and sloppy mascara faces. I'm more interested in perverts than Saints. I can relax with bums because I am a bum. I don't like laws, morals, religions, rules. I don't like to be shaped by society.'

Unfortunately, many readers have difficulty looking past this admission, and find him unnecessarily offensive, dismissing him as a drunken vulgarion with a typewriter.

It's too bad that Bukowski was obsessed with X rated themes and language, because he wrote in a style that read fast and easy, is entertaining, and could have been accessible to a very wide audience had he chosen a 'lighter' subject.

Despite all this, I cannot honestly say that I dislike his work. I fact, I find his work to be page after page of comedy and, quite frankly, liberating from the structures and confines of everyday life. Yet, at the same time, although I often find myself describing Bukowski's work as: crude, offensive, juvenile, among other things, I look past this because I do not read Bukowski's work for some profound meaning or insight to life but strictly for fun, therefore expecting little more than alcohol induced writing at times resembling no more than bar banter.

However, even I, in my lingering immaturity, was shocked and repulsed by what appeared to be a casual and tacit endorsement of rape in several stories. Sometimes I feel that Bukowski writes the way he does about the things he does because he's still trying to impress the guys in his high school class, inmates, or briny sailors'pirates to be sure.

If you haven't read any of his work this is a good introduction of what you'll be getting from his novels. The short stories range from excellent to good, and are better than most of the pages found in his novels, given that the nature of the short story forced Bukowski to get to the point instead of wasting paper in drunken rambling.

There are numerous good shorts here, among my favorites are: 'CLASS,' where Hank Chinaski not only boxes but knocks out Ernest Hemingway; and, 'BOP BOP BEHIND THE CURTAIN,' a piece about teenage frolics to a burlesque show, and the hardships of life during the depression.

South of No North was one of the first Bukowski works that I read and it was the one that reeled me in like a fish. A fantastic work of great scope and understanding. This book speaks to you in a way that few will. It speaks to every part of you - the mind, heart, soul, conscious, unconscious, etc. This is a must for anyone interested in a plain, honest treatment of human life with all of its peaks and valleys.

I've read a lot of Bukowski, and this one is unique. The stories in this book are amazingly depressing and uplifting, all at the same time. It's both the subject matter and the way the stories are told that makes it so powerful. Definitely something to check out: a great starting point for Bukowski newbies and also amazing for those who've read other things he has written. Highly recommended

Well, for a book dedicated to "bad writing," Pulp succeeds in clearing its own lowered bar. Because Bukowski specializes in a kind of brutal honesty, whereas the elements of this lite juggling act are formulaic, this is not a book which will, like some of his others, rivet your emotional organs to the latest bit of metal being extruded from society's assembly line. On the other hand, Bukowski is more formally playful here than in his other novels and, for that reason alone, Pulp is worth reading. What Bukowski fan could resist the thought of a Bukowski book with oversexed aliens, featuring a hardboiled detective hired by Lady Death to track down the dead French author Celine? Not too many. But perhaps because the old man had finally found a species of domestic happiness with his wife and cats, some money and some belated recognition as a writer, there is less raw emotional fire in this than his other novels. On the one hand, the book has a lower truth quotient than some of his short poems. On the other hand, I do think it succeeds as a parody of the hard-boiled detective novel and, by extension, of the sociosexual masquerade of the tough American male. There are some very funny bits here, as in the short chapter where the slack protagonist "dick," bereft of clues, does nothing and I mean nothing (although he does it in a tough way) in his office. Let's see if Slavoj Zizek can take time out from his Lacanian psychoanalysis of Hitchcock and Bogart films to crack this!

I first heard of Charles Bukowski when i was reading a news update on the band Shiner's website and it made me curious. Then i was at a Dismemberment Plan concert and someone in one of the opening acts had a Charles Bukowski T-shirt on. If an author has people wearing T-shirts with his likeness on them he must be good. Right?
Pulp is a funny and vulgar parody of Pulp mystery novels, and revolves around Nick Belane a Private Detective in Hollywood. The book follows his misadventures that include working for Lady Death, a space alien called jeannie nitro, hunting for the famous French author Celine (who is suppose to be dead), looking for a red sparrow, and lots of drinking. In Pulp Bukowski mixes the pulp novel, hopelessness, lonelyness, and extreme vulgarity and somehow makes it funny. His writing style is very character centered and is very dialog oriented. The story and even plot seemed to take a backseat. However Pulp is not for everyone. It's funny, but it's humor is dark, and it is very very vulgar. I can't stress that last part enough. This book is vulgar, so if you get easily offended don't buy it. Otherwise this book is very easy and funny read.

What do you want for a man who has toiled for half a century with words and phrases? Do you want a marching band parade? A shotgun in the mouth? Or how about a novel, a novel that realizes this is the end. "Pulp" does this. It is Buk's goodbye. Fante is in there, John Martin his publisher is there, Lady Death, other characters from his life of writing. You can find him. But, you gotta look carefully. You have to have read Buk before. This is not for first time readers. Dont read this book until you have read alot of Bukowski. Only then will you enjoy it.

Always loved and respected Buk as a unique character in American contemporary Lit. A hand-picked and convinced anarchist who played many games one of his favorites being to present himself as a lumprenproletarian alcos and womanizer (how about a very sensitive and sophisticated writer with fine, fine taste in Literatur & Music?)and yet all good things come to an end. Dear Linda, please stop publishing the leftovers. This book is not worthy of Buk's legacy. Only sporadically a thought a line reminds us of the grand old curmudgeon...and yet forgive me for telling you this. Perhaps the Bukowski book should never end?

In these poems (from the 1970s and 1980s), Bukowski is getting away from the references to animals of the earlier years, moving into more specific events. Everything that happens is both small and universal. Nothing's too pretty. Kind of like real life!

He's not sentimental, he's sad, and he laughs at himself. One of his best collections.

Charles Bukowski's poems are grounded in California observations and scenes: and The Night Torn With Mad Footsteps provides new poems from the prolific poet's pen, which range from coastal experiences to reflections on the relative silence of typing on a modern typewriter as compared to noisy manuals of the past. Anticipate some hard language and smooth insights.