#sprint2017

Post Office (1971) by Charles Bukowski

I started 2017 with this book. I read it because a boy I really liked recommended it to me. We were trading reading lists then. In exchange for this (shitty) recommendation, I lent him my Memories of My Melancholy Whores by Gabriel García Márquez (the book was given to me as a despidida gift by my Korean blockmate, who went back to Korea for military service — it’s almost June and the book is yet to be returned to me).

Bukowski never really attracted me even in my Literature major years. He was not even mentioned in any of our classes. When I read him, I understood why. One gay friend of mine described Bukowski’s writing as ‘Literature for straight boys’. At least my friend called it Literature. When I finished Post Office, I understood why my friend referred to it that way. I think I will never read anything by Bukowski again.

I understand the appeal and the context. I can only imagine how revolutionary it was in his time, maybe. But Hemingway also wrote things so straightforwardly. I don’t like Hemingway, but I respect him. But with Bukowski. . . I guess, the thing with Bukowski is his vulgarness. But still, the ‘Literature for straight boys’ description nailed it. Keep it plain. Keep it simple. Keep it crass.

But that’s the thing. I don’t like my prose like that. I ranted to the boy about it. It’s so boring and tasteless to me. I probably insulted him when I sent him this quote straight from the book: ‘Sartre and Genet have called him (Bukowski) "the best poet in America,” and asked how. I mean, the guy’s his favourite author. But I can’t — for my love life’s sake even — see how his writing is poetry (the boy sent me a lot of his poems to convince me).  



To save the book: yes, I did laugh at some parts, felt sympathy towards some of the girls (Betty, mainly), and even Henry Chinaski. I even felt sad when I finished it.

That’s my motto/slogan for this year. 2016 was such a terrible year for me. It had its ups, but I really can’t remember them. So 2017, I said I will do the things necessary for me, and move to be the person I want to be, whoever that might be – most likely Joni Mitchell. 

In his lecture in the ‘Writing The Classroom’ Conference (27 May 2017), Dr Jeremy de Chavez says that happiness has always been portrayed in movement, and he even refered to Pharrell’s Happy MV. Bed days are over, and 2017 is — so far — making me miss my bed.

I decided to move by reviving my blog to share my experience on a certain art (eg books, movies, and mangas, music, or other stuff). Though they may sound like a rant (I swear, I try to like things), well, I feel the need to reclaim my Tumblr from these reblogs. Also, I want to get back to writing, as grad school made me realise how much I missed it. And really, this is just writing for me. And I’ve been wanting to do this since 2015, but I had no idea how to go about it.

At the start of the year, I aimed to read at least one book a month. I also told myself to start watching one movie in the cinemas a month, if money permits it (cause I booked plane tickets more than my salary could finance). I also said I’ll limit myself to one beer a week — and nope. I can’t do the last one. The rest, so far, so good.

Cheers!