Eric
Bukowski's the type of author you know a lot of people read the wrong way, and glamorize the "confident IDGAF manhood" of the main character instead of seeing him as a (literally) filthy, chauvinist relic of a thankfully-bygone era, writing obvious male fantasies about his many, effortless affairs with women and duping employers.
But the writing is easy and some of the episodes are unique and memorable, so you have to kind of appreciate that. No one else is gonna write about leaving a "wet brown stain" on his bedsheets because he's been wiping with old newspapers and "often didn't get all of it cleaned off."
Treat these as cautionary tales of the effects of egocentric, toxic masculinity and you might enjoy them.
Bukowski's the type of author you know a lot of people read the wrong way, and glamorize the "confident IDGAF manhood" of the main character instead of seeing him as a (literally) filthy, chauvinist relic of a thankfully-bygone era, writing obvious male fantasies about his many, effortless affairs with women and duping employers.
But the writing is easy and some of the episodes are unique and memorable, so you have to kind of appreciate that. No one else is gonna write about leaving a "wet brown stain" on his bedsheets because he's been wiping with old newspapers and "often didn't get all of it cleaned off."
Treat these as cautionary tales of the effects of egocentric, toxic masculinity and you might enjoy them.