Ratings38
Average rating3.7
“The Walt Whitman of Los Angeles.”—Joyce Carol Oates, bestselling author “He brought everybody down to earth, even the angels.”—Leonard Cohen, songwriter Low-life writer and unrepentant alcoholic Henry Chinaski was born to survive. After decades of slacking off at low-paying dead-end jobs, blowing his cash on booze and women, and scrimping by in flea-bitten apartments, Chinaski sees his poetic star rising at last. Now, at fifty, he is reveling in his sudden rock-star life, running three hundred hangovers a year, and maintaining a sex life that would cripple Casanova. With all of Charles Bukowski's trademark humor and gritty, dark honesty, Women, the 1978 follow-up to Post Office and Factotum, is an uncompromising account of life on the edge.
Reviews with the most likes.
It's like Leaving Las Vegas meets Groundhog Day. A damaged, self-loathing old prick who drinks and fucks until it's so pathetic he cannot do it anymore. Worst outcome possible. Truly sad book, left me with a bitter taste.
I listened to this on audio book and it reminded me of being a kid during the 70s and listening to my dad's stories of when he was younger. The only difference was my dad didn't drink and certainly wasn't a poet, so there's that. Despite the apparent horror of this comparison, it was an unexpected bit of nostalgia of a time and culture that now exists only in time capsules such as this book.
I am probably the most surprised that I actually liked this book.
I picked it up after a friend mentioned that he had read it multiple times. Within 2 pages I was sure this is not for me. And it probably isn't. Although the book is about women, it's not written for them. I think the author wrote it mostly for himself.
Knowing that, I still couldn't stop reading and before I knew it I was turning pages and getting annoyed that I have to stop.
Let me be frank, most of this book is just sex. There's a very generous amount of drinking as well. There's no particular plot as such, it's mostly just the ramblings of a tired, scared man, who has no idea what to do with himself. It's kind of like a diary.
The whole thing is brutal and ugly, yet I liked it. I'm not sure I can explain it properly.
Every other scene either gets you to laugh out loud or stare at the wall.
Again, I liked it and I will read more from the author.
dear God is this novel a chore. The book is basically just one thing over and over and over again throughout. Poetry reading, getting drunk, fucking. Rinse and repeat.
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2,882 booksWhen you think back on every book you've ever read, what are some of your favorites? These can be from any time of your life – books that resonated with you as a kid, ones that shaped your personal...