2019, 251 pages. New Author? : No. Genres: Poetry; Collections; Alcohol; Letters & Correspondence; Excerpts. Overall Rating : 7½*/10.
Charles Bukowski, aka the Poet of the Proletariat. Born August 16, 1920; died March 20, 1994. According to Wikipedia, the FBI kept a file on him, which means he's my kind of writer.
In addition to thousands of poems, Bukowski wrote six novels, hundreds of short stories, and a bunch of newspaper columns, the latter apparently being what piqued the FBI's attention.
More than sixty books have been published, so you can read his opinions on all sorts of things. But his favorite topics were his writing, the women in his life, the various crappy jobs he held while trying to make it as an author, the various crappy living conditions that went along with those jobs, and the multitude of fights he got into while enduring those living conditions. And booze.
Bukowski was an unapologetic imbiber of copious amounts of alcohol. Beer, wine, whiskey, you name it. He had a lot to say about getting drunk, writing while drunk, fighting while drunk, loving while drunk, and waking up with hangovers after being drunk.
Now, Abel Debritto has combed through Bukowski's literary output, extracted his best comments about the joys of booze, and compiled them into a coherent book.
With the straightforward and unambiguous title On Drinking.
What’s To Like...
On Drinking is part of a four-book series of Charles Bukowski's thoughts on his favorite themes. The other three books are: On Writing, On Love, and the surprising On Cats. I've already downloaded two of these to my Kindle. The selections come in all sorts of forms: poems, correspondence, prose, autobiographical excerpts, drinking stories, you name it.
I liked that Abel Debritto arranges the entries in chronological order, covering three decades of Buko's life, from 1961 to 1992. I found it interesting that early in his career, Bukowski claims he can only write when he's drunk. Later on, he changes his mind and asserts that he can write equally well while drunk or sober.
Beyond the titular theme of getting drunk, I learned a lot about Bukowski. We share a favorite Chinese poet: Li Po, and Bukowski even dedicated one of his poems ("Immortal Wind") to him. Bukowski always had the radio on when writing, and listened to classical symphonies and composers such as Stravinsky. He gives us an insider's view of life in a drunk tank, which I am glad to say I've never experienced, and when he came down with tuberculosis late in life, he despaired because it meant he had to give up drinking and smoking. Later on, he rejoiced when doctors declared him to be TB-free, presumably celebrating by renewing old habits.
For me, the most telling aspect of the book was reading about the highs and lows of Buko's lifelong relationship with booze. The multiple trips to the charity ward, a poor man's hospital. Not being able to drive because of 2 DUI's and no insurance. His obnoxious behavior at a zen wedding. And having to stand before a "drunk tank judge".
There are a couple of neat sketches, done by Bukowski himself, scattered throughout the book, as well as a few candid photos of him. I found the "Publisher's Note" at the beginning of the book interesting: apparently trying to convert prose into an e-book format is quite the challenge. The "Extras" at the back are pretty normal: Sources, Acknowledgements, About the Authors, and "Also by Charles Bukowski".
Ratings…
Amazon: 4.9/5 based on 94 ratings.
Goodreads: 3.92/5 based on 398 ratings and 47 reviews
Excerpts...
"Everybody's talking about liberation now, that's the thing, you know. Do you know that?"
No response. They didn't know that.
"All right, I say let's liberate the roaches and the alcoholics. What's wrong with a roach? Can anybody tell me what's wrong with a roach?"
"Well, they stink and they're ugly," said some guy.
"So's an alcoholic. They sell us the stuff to drink, don't they? Then we drink it and they throw us in jail. I don't understand. Does anybody understand this?"
No response. They didn't understand. (loc. 1223)
As you know, the worst drinking is done
on an empty stomach, while smoking heavily and downing many different
types of libations.
and the worst hangovers are when you
awaken in your car or in a strange room
or in an alley or in jail.
the worst hangovers are when you
awaken to realize that you have done
something absolutely vile, ignorant and
possibly dangerous the night before
but
you can't quite remember what it was. (loc. 2926)
Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must live. (loc. 1162)
On Drinking will not please everyone. For starters there's a lot of cussing and various sexual situations. Naturally, every single excerpt has some drinking in it, although hardly any drugs, which surprised me.
At times the book gets repetitive, but I anticipated that. After all, even if you're a wordsmith like Bukowski, there are only so many things you can say about getting drunk and having hangovers.
Finally, as with anything autobiographical, you have to ask yourself: how much is factual and how much is hyperbole? Bukowski paints himself as legendary drinker and lover, a superior fighter (when drunk), and a rude party guest. Did all these balls, brawls, and falls really happen, or are they exaggerations that make for good stories?
Who knows, but I liked the book.
7½ Stars. It's been a while since I'd read anything by Charles Bukowski, aka Henry "Hank" Chinaski, so for me On Drinking felt like meeting up with an old acquaintance after a long absence. I liked this novel way of repackaging his literary commentary, and am looking forward to reading his comments on women and writing.
