CHARLES BUKOWSKI

Charles Bukowski
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CHARLES BUKOWSKI



Written by Jonasz Tolopilo
28 Monday 28th June 2010
Lacking metaphors, using poor and vulgar language, full of sex and obscenity, straightforward to a point of brutal bluntness. Meet Charles Bukowski, the proud representativeof the Beatniks, the guy who wrote about his life without even a glimpse of contemplation. The guy who made being poor trendy, and who is responsible for promoting this attitude among contemporary indie boys.
 
“If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose”
 
Bukowski was a badass. His daily routine, described in his books, was, “I got up, took a huge dump in the toilet of the girl I was sleeping with. I wrote some stuff. I went to the bar. Got drunk. Got laid.” We might assume that this guy had absolutely no compunction, no sense of compassion for others – he lived only for himself. He may have been wasting his soul, as far as his peers might judge him, but he didn't care. Instead, he got drunk and fucked random girls.
 
 
“Some people never go crazy, What truly horrible lives they must live”
 
Yeah, sometimes he was going crazy. He threw all his stuff out of the window, he punched a guy in a bar, he destroyed a hotle room. When you read his stuff, you've got a strong feeling that actually he enjoyed going mad. This gave him power, fuel for life. In his books he uses capital letters to express this craziness or existential screaming. After some time you stop paying attention to that. He writes in capitals so often.
 
“Genius might be the ability to say a profound thing in a simple way.”
 
His simplicity was his best asset. Sometimes his language can even seem primitive – seriously, this guy generally doesn't use metaphors, sophisticated adjectives, rich language. He had an enormous ability of saying deep-seated things in a straight non-convoluted way. That's why he wasn't boring. Thirty pages of his book equals two hundred of (yuck) Paolo Coelho. Not even mentioning that Bukowski actually had something to say.
 
 
Bukowski died at the age of 73 of leukemia. Seriously, you wouldn't expect him to die from such a non-dramatic illness. One would rather think of him being murdered by one of the women he fucked or that old rock ‘n’ roll cliché of an alcohol overdose. His spectacularly low-life way of living deserved a more spectacular death, in my view.

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