Tuesday, 15 September 2015

Post Office – Charles Bukowski



A couple of supposedly angry girls in my high-school class read something by Bukowski and boldly declared him the greatest writer of the 20th century. For their own sake, I hope that they were saying that because it was cool to do so – if they actually believed what they said they were either fairly dumb or awfully misguided (or both?!?).

I think post-men are awesome literally characters (just ask Skármeta!), but Chinaski’s adventures and miseries are just boring and, well, miserable – not to mention not particularly well written. He likes to get laid, and he likes to drink. He likes to play tough and he ends up on the losing end of life’s battles. That’s as much as I remember from this book. I have read plenty of other books in which characters do pretty much the same things and I often find those novels really good. This one, however, just isn’t.

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