It wasn't just private houses where Hank delivered the mail. Businesses were also included on his run, including the local Roman Catholic Church. "I went around to the side of the church and found a stairway going down. I went in through an open door. Do you know what I saw? A row of toilets. And showers. But it was dark. All the lights were out. How in hell can they expect a man to find a mailbox in the dark? Then I saw the light switch. I threw the thing and the lights in the church went on, inside and out. I walked into the next room and there were priests' robes spread out on the table. There was a bottle of wine. In 1993 U2 album Zooropa included the song 'Dirty Day'. The song repeatedly references the Bukowski poetry collection 'The Days Run Away, Like Wild Horses Over the Hill'. The lyrics also reflect on a troubled father-son relationship, which is a central theme in much of Bukowski's writing This book made me want to drink. A lot. I mean a lot, a lot. And it made me laugh. A lot. Now you know; my secret is out – I am a twisted, depraved human being who enjoys reading the thoughts of a dirty old man. And I’m okay with that. I’m not going to read Bukowski for profundity; I’m going to read him when I need reminding not to take myself and life so daggone seriously. I mean, sometimes it’s just a good idea to let your hair down and read a bit of trashy, boozy fun. Let's call it making yourself more well rounded. Fox, Hugh (1969). "Hugh Fox: The Living Underground: Charles Bukowski". The North American Review. 254 (3): 57–58. JSTOR 25117001. The Mathematics of the Breath and the Way: On Writers and Writing; Edited by David Stephen Calonne (City Lights, 2018)

am quite the cynic I would fall in love with Bukowski as he has the same dark, twisted view on life" a b c d Hemmingson, Michael (October 9, 2008). The Dirty Realism Duo: Charles Bukowski & Raymond Carver. Borgo Press. pp.70, 71. ISBN 978-1-4344-0257-8.Bukowski's work was subject to controversy throughout his career. Hugh Fox claimed that his sexism in his poetry, at least in part, translated into his life. In 1969, Fox published the first critical study of Bukowski in The North American Review, and mentioned his attitude toward women: "When women are around, he has to play Man. In a way it's the same kind of 'pose' he plays at in his poetry— Bogart, Eric Von Stroheim. Whenever my wife Lucia would come with me to visit him he'd play the Man role, but one night she couldn't come I got to Buk's place and found a whole different guy—easy to get along with, relaxed, accessible." [32] But I couldn't help thinking, god, all these mailmen do is drop in their letters and get laid. This is the job for me, oh yes yes yes." Are you getting the picture here, my fellow GR readers? Michael Nordine, "Best L.A. Novel Ever: John Fante's Ask the Dust vs. Charles Bukowski's Post Office, Round 1," LA Weekly, November 2, 2012. Post-hardcore band Thursday's 2003 album War All the Time was also named after the Bukowski book of the same name. Writers including John Fante, [34] Knut Hamsun, [34] Louis-Ferdinand Céline, [34] Ernest Hemingway, [35] Robinson Jeffers, [35] Henry Miller, [34] D. H. Lawrence, [35] Fyodor Dostoevsky, [35] Du Fu [35] Li Bai, [35] and James Thurber are noted as influences on Bukowski's writing.

Of course, no one reading Bukowski’s Post Office would think alcohol did anything but keep Chinaski in a life of squalor, barely able to hold down a (shitty) job and living hand to mouth. Rare is it—or maybe unheard of—that Chinaski starts his day at the post office without a raging hangover. At one point, he’s so out of it that he walks into the wrong apartment in his building, thinking nothing of the different interior or the woman on sofa. (“She looked all right. Young. Good legs. Blonde.”) In Bukowski’s world, Chinaski is practically irresistible to women, despite his alcoholism, misogyny, and general crankiness, so the blonde flirts with him instead of freaking out. I enjoyed the fact that as I read the book, I didn’t feel like I was really reading. I felt like Bukowski was telling me a story. I could hear his gravelly voice and smell the whiskey on his breath.

Forgotten the title or the author of a book? Our BookSleuth is specially designed for you. Visit BookSleuth He leaves, but not before she says, “Don’t forget where I’m at”—because, really, who wouldn’t be charmed by this man? On the job, he’s insubordinate, irritable, and generally a pain in the ass to his bosses and the people he services. Oh, and he rapes a customer. Harrison, Russell (1994). Against The American Dream: Essays on Charles Bukowski. ISBN 0-87685-959-7.

This article appears to contain trivial, minor, or unrelated references to popular culture. Please reorganize this content to explain the subject's impact on popular culture, providing citations to reliable, secondary sources, rather than simply listing appearances. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. ( October 2018) This could be a true story, he could honest to god have sat down one day, with a hangover from hell, and decided to write this book, for no other reason than to tell the world " I exist. Lives like this are lived every day". The autobiographical book covers the years Bukowski spend working in the post office. Bukowski’s alter ego, Henry Chinaski, starts as a substitute mail carrier. The novel begins, “It began as a mistake.” He hears from a fellow drunk that the post office hires carriers during the Christmas season to handle the extra mail load and at first it seems an easy gig.Killer Mike mentions Bukowski in the song "Walking in the Snow" on the 2020 album RTJ4, saying he reads Noam Chomsky and Bukowski. Then there's the other part "and sad". And sad. At the end of the sentence, like it's an afterthought, the feeling you're left with when all the others have come and gone. It's so simple, no fancy word, no 'sorrowful', no 'endlessly depressing'. It's sad. Like that. There's not a damn thing you can do about it, it's the way it is. It won't make you cry, but it will make you feel like drinking. The charm of this book lies in the relentless attachment of Chinaski to the US Postal Service, as he puts in thankless hours on the trot in pursuit of a life drowned in alcohol, cigarettes, race-horses and (obviously) women.