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Father Luke
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« on: July 09, 2009, 06:13:50 PM » |
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 Bukowski He's sneaked into almost every thread, usually by mention from those who despise him, and usually those who despise him have not read him. Which doesn't surprise me. Use this thread to love and hate him. Now, maybe the other threads may continue on in all their educated glory. - - Okay, Father Luke |
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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Sana
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« Reply #1 on: July 09, 2009, 07:19:59 PM » |
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I have found to enjoy reading his work. The simplicity of his style is accessible or maybe it is my laziness. Whichever it is, works for me. |
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Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
T.S. Eliot
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Tobacco
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« Reply #2 on: July 09, 2009, 08:02:03 PM » |
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« Last Edit: July 09, 2009, 08:11:52 PM by Undernether »
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Y crybaby me ome crybaby me ast
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astronacht
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« Reply #3 on: July 09, 2009, 09:06:54 PM » |
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I view him in the same way I view Palahniuk: someone black and white enough to spark an interest in reading. I read Palahniuk once upon a time and thought it was okay, but then I started reading real books. I'd have to say that the only reason that otherwise sane people would claim Bukowski was a decent author is a bit of a nostalgic delusion, because most of those people say he was the first poet they got into, Jen.  And before anyone says anything, I've read enough. There isn't a poem you can throw at me from the vast wasteland of his anthologies to change my mind. |
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« Last Edit: July 09, 2009, 09:09:06 PM by astronacht »
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When you get blue and you've lost all your dreams, there's nothing like a campfire and a can of beans. |
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Tobacco
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« Reply #4 on: July 09, 2009, 10:07:04 PM » |
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Y crybaby me me bla crybaby me me bla
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MsWizard
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« Reply #5 on: July 09, 2009, 11:49:50 PM » |
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Bukowski He's sneaked into almost every thread, usually by mention from those who despise him, and usually those who despise him have not read him. Which doesn't surprise me. Use this thread to love and hate him. Now, maybe the other threads may continue on in all their educated glory. - - Okay, Father Luke I loved his semi-fiction long before I ever found his poetry. I grew to love his poetry, his observations, his expressions. But still....I keep an old battered copy of Post Office that I've had since I was a little girl and re-read it now and again with much fondness... |
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I change myself, I change the world
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Father Luke
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« Reply #6 on: July 10, 2009, 12:09:25 AM » |
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Bukowski trivia: Favorite Music? Classical. Sibelius was in his top ten, which also included Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler, Mozart, Shostakovich and Wagner.
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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Ġakbu
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« Reply #7 on: July 10, 2009, 01:24:55 AM » |
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enough to spark an interest in reading. I read Palahniuk once upon a time and thought it was okay, but then I started reading real books. That's the main thing that bothers me about Bukowski. Some people never move on onto real books and poems. Bukowski trivia:
Favorite Music?
Classical. Sibelius was in his top ten, which also included
Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler, Mozart, Shostakovich and Wagner. I also read that Bukowski said that he was influenced by D.H. Lawrence's work. Let's take a short example of a Lawrence poem shall we: PeopleI like people quite well
at a little distance.
I like to see them passing and passing
and going their own way,
especially if I see their aloneness alive in them.
Yet I don’t want them to come near.
If they will only leave me alone
I can still have the illusion that there is room enough in the
world.Nothing impressive, certainly. And you can easily read through it and understand it, like Bukowski. But how about this poem of D.H. Lawrence? Whales Weep Not! by D. H. LawrenceThey say the sea is cold, but the sea contains
the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.
All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge
on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs.
The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers
there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of
the sea!
And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages
on the depths of the seven seas,
and through the salt they reel with drunk delight
and in the tropics tremble they with love
and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods.
Then the great bull lies up against his bride
in the blue deep bed of the sea,
as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life:
and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood
the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and
comes to rest
in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale's
fathomless body.
And over the bridge of the whale's strong phallus, linking the
wonder of whales
the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and
forth,
keep passing, archangels of bliss
from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim
that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the
sea
great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies.
And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale-
tender young
and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of
the beginning and the end.
And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring
when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood
and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat
encircling their huddled monsters of love.
And all this happens in the sea, in the salt
where God is also love, but without words:
and Aphrodite is the wife of whales
most happy, happy she!
and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin
she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea
she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males
and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.or this poem? Trees in the Garden by D. H. LawrenceAh in the thunder air
how still the trees are!
And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent
hardly looses even a last breath of perfume.
And the ghostly, creamy coloured little tree of leaves
white, ivory white among the rambling greens
how evanescent, variegated elder, she hesitates on the green grass
as if, in another moment, she would disappear
with all her grace of foam!
And the larch that is only a column, it goes up too tall to see:
and the balsam-pines that are blue with the grey-blue blueness of
things from the sea,
and the young copper beech, its leaves red-rosy at the ends
how still they are together, they stand so still
in the thunder air, all strangers to one another
as the green grass glows upwards, strangers in the silent garden.
LichtentalI'd be damned if all the people viewing this thread read fully both poems, and it's to be expected. Many have come accustomed to reading light stuff, and yet I reccomeneded this poet, D.H. Lawrence to Ms.Wizard in my thread, and told her that he's a good opening into the world of poetry because he's simple to read, and he is! He's not some metaphysical John Donne! but look at these two poems; he wrote that one about people sure, nothing special about that, but then he wrote these two, the work of a very good (won't call him great) poet. If there's something of Bukowski that's as good as any of these two poems, that's got the depth, the creative thought, the poetic technique, the powerful effect of language as these two have, then please do show me, for if there is, then I'd have to eat my own words and say that Bukowski is a very good poet, but I doubt that I will. He had good musical tastes, I'll give you that, but whilst the work of those Artists-composers was powerful, emotional, artistically refined and had a certain level of depth (just listen to Moonlight Sonata No.1 of Beethoven, and you'll listen to a genius, a true artist). Of course, among their greater works these composers would have works which aren't that good, but they would have great works still. Showing me that he was cultured enough to like Wagner isn't enough for me to think more highly of his work, just like telling me that Hitler adored Wagner wouldn't make me think more highly of his work; it would only make me think more highly of his cultural persona. |
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« Last Edit: July 10, 2009, 01:27:37 AM by Ġakbu l-Malti »
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Father Luke
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« Reply #8 on: July 10, 2009, 01:29:04 AM » |
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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Ġakbu
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« Reply #9 on: July 10, 2009, 01:33:15 AM » |
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Father Luke
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« Reply #10 on: July 10, 2009, 01:35:11 AM » |
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"The castigation of fools is, of course, an ancient and honorable task of writers and, unless very poorly done, an enterprise that will usually entertain those who behold it." ~ Richard Mitchell |
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Ġakbu
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« Reply #11 on: July 10, 2009, 01:36:46 AM » |
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MsWizard
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« Reply #12 on: July 10, 2009, 01:45:16 AM » |
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enough to spark an interest in reading. I read Palahniuk once upon a time and thought it was okay, but then I started reading real books. That's the main thing that bothers me about Bukowski. Some people never move on onto real books and poems. Bukowski trivia:
Favorite Music?
Classical. Sibelius was in his top ten, which also included
Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler, Mozart, Shostakovich and Wagner. I also read that Bukowski said that he was influenced by D.H. Lawrence's work. Let's take a short example of a Lawrence poem shall we: PeopleI like people quite well
at a little distance.
I like to see them passing and passing
and going their own way,
especially if I see their aloneness alive in them.
Yet I don’t want them to come near.
If they will only leave me alone
I can still have the illusion that there is room enough in the
world.Nothing impressive, certainly. And you can easily read through it and understand it, like Bukowski. But how about this poem of D.H. Lawrence? Whales Weep Not! by D. H. LawrenceThey say the sea is cold, but the sea contains
the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.
All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge
on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs.
The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers
there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of
the sea!
And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages
on the depths of the seven seas,
and through the salt they reel with drunk delight
and in the tropics tremble they with love
and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods.
Then the great bull lies up against his bride
in the blue deep bed of the sea,
as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life:
and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood
the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and
comes to rest
in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale's
fathomless body.
And over the bridge of the whale's strong phallus, linking the
wonder of whales
the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and
forth,
keep passing, archangels of bliss
from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim
that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the
sea
great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies.
And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale-
tender young
and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of
the beginning and the end.
And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring
when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood
and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat
encircling their huddled monsters of love.
And all this happens in the sea, in the salt
where God is also love, but without words:
and Aphrodite is the wife of whales
most happy, happy she!
and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin
she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea
she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males
and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.or this poem? Trees in the Garden by D. H. LawrenceAh in the thunder air
how still the trees are!
And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent
hardly looses even a last breath of perfume.
And the ghostly, creamy coloured little tree of leaves
white, ivory white among the rambling greens
how evanescent, variegated elder, she hesitates on the green grass
as if, in another moment, she would disappear
with all her grace of foam!
And the larch that is only a column, it goes up too tall to see:
and the balsam-pines that are blue with the grey-blue blueness of
things from the sea,
and the young copper beech, its leaves red-rosy at the ends
how still they are together, they stand so still
in the thunder air, all strangers to one another
as the green grass glows upwards, strangers in the silent garden.
LichtentalI'd be damned if all the people viewing this thread read fully both poems, and it's to be expected. Many have come accustomed to reading light stuff, and yet I reccomeneded this poet, D.H. Lawrence to Ms.Wizard in my thread, and told her that he's a good opening into the world of poetry because he's simple to read, and he is! He's not some metaphysical John Donne! but look at these two poems; he wrote that one about people sure, nothing special about that, but then he wrote these two, the work of a very good (won't call him great) poet. If there's something of Bukowski that's as good as any of these two poems, that's got the depth, the creative thought, the poetic technique, the powerful effect of language as these two have, then please do show me, for if there is, then I'd have to eat my own words and say that Bukowski is a very good poet, but I doubt that I will. He had good musical tastes, I'll give you that, but whilst the work of those Artists-composers was powerful, emotional, artistically refined and had a certain level of depth (just listen to Moonlight Sonata No.1 of Beethoven, and you'll listen to a genius, a true artist). Of course, among their greater works these composers would have works which aren't that good, but they would have great works still. Showing me that he was cultured enough to like Wagner isn't enough for me to think more highly of his work, just like telling me that Hitler adored Wagner wouldn't make me think more highly of his work; it would only make me think more highly of his cultural persona. You are right. D.H. Lawrence is easy to read. I started reading D.H. Lawrence when I was, mmmm, 16? And I do love his writing. I commented on Bukowski because I have a special afinity to him. I thought I had shared this some time ago. My father and he were very good friends and they used to babysit my brother and I while getting seriously drunk. Now, I dont recommend that, and I personally dont remember it either, but my understanding is they had a pretty good time playing with my brother and I and surely that's a good enough reason to be slightly fond of him, yes? A story I've shared with Father Luke is one of my mother chasing Bukow and my father out of the house with a broom. Now, you got to love a man who has so thoroughly pissed your mom off dont you? |
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I change myself, I change the world
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Jenifer
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« Reply #13 on: July 10, 2009, 01:46:15 AM » |
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People who can't admit that Bukowski was a brilliant poet make me laugh. A lot of times, I think it's due to jealousy. The ol' he makes it look so easy thing. Why is he so popular? He ain't so great. Bukowski is minimalism at its finest. Perfection. I laugh too at those who say that his work wasn't poetry. How small. How simple minded, to only be able to appreciate certain genres of poetry. Just sayin'. |
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Ġakbu
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« Reply #14 on: July 10, 2009, 01:50:48 AM » |
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Ms.Wizard, I never said that I had something against the man, only against his work. Jenifer, I can assure you, I feel no jealousy or sense of envy whatsoever directed towards Bukowksi. He's popular because we live in societies, everyone has the opportunity to be popular, in ways which one does not expect. No he isn't minamilism at its finest. E.E. cummings, another writer he admired and wrote a poem about called 'what a writer', was someone who used minalimism at its finest, and even managed to evoke a spiritual sense of depth similar to reading a Gerad Manley Hopkins, which is on the other end of the scale, difficult, obscure at times, and very very rich in language. It's not about being small and simple minded, it's about differtiating, between one level of writing, and another level of writing. |
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« Last Edit: July 10, 2009, 01:51:22 AM by Ġakbu l-Malti »
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