![]() It’s with this in mind, in part I, we come across his literary persona Henry Chinaski, a deadbeat, heavy drinking, accident-prone, womanising, jack of all trades dry wit who is bumbling his way through life sticking it to the man. In some ways, this was to make his story more entertaining, but there were also a lot of personal issues which Bukowski found too painful to discuss in full detail until Ham on Rye (1982). Whilst Bukowski’s work can be classed as semi-autobiographical, I think it’s necessary to point out there was a lot of truth-bending at play here. This is presented as a work of fiction and dedicated to nobody ![]() It also remains his best-known work – hold onto your beer kegs! Part I He found this work so mundane and stressful he took to drinking heavily and would often struggle to get into his job as his hangovers were so bad – coupled with this, he struggled with his physical appearance and had a deeply unhappy childhood.ĭespite these issues, he was able to take his life’s story, add in a rock ‘n roll alter ego called Henry Chinaski, and the result was a bestseller and an instant, spectacularly downtrodden classic in the style of beat generation writing. In a life fraught with personal and professional problems, he stumbled through to his 50th birthday after a long, unhappy spell working at the post office in America. Low-Life Drunkenness and the US Mail in Bukowski’s Post Officeīukowski’s path to writing his debut novel was not an easy one. I’ve covered Down and Out in Paris and London on this blog already – Bukowski’s Post Office is, essentially, an American version of this! By this I mean it, naturally, loses all Britishness in favour of a laconic, profane, salacious, and often downright perverted nature. The latter, down and out literature, I first came across when I read several of George Orwell’s works, which dealt with poverty and social and economic injustice – a sad situation which hasn’t advanced a great deal since Orwell’s day. ![]() The former sprung forth through the likes of Thomas De Quincey in the 19th century, who candidly discussed his addiction to opium. Charles Bukowski’s Post Office (1971) isn’t quite in the same league there, but what it does represent is a fine instalment in addiction, and down and out, literature, as well as something genuinely funny to read. Right, my last three reviews have encompassed a lot of serious philosophising and whatnot. ![]()
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