Pulp – Charles Bukowski ( 1994 )
Tell me slick, what’s the deal?
I ain’t telling you zip, buster! You think I’m gonna crack just like that? I have eight holes in my stomach, 2 were done by lead and the other 6 were by alcohol. Harsh words won’t do the trick, fella, I been married three times.
Look, buster, I don’ ‘ave the time, get on with it!
Fine, only because I gotta make the bookies… This guy, Nick Belane, works as a private dick and gets hired by a fine piece of woman who might or not be The Grim Reaper incarnate. He also needs to find something called the Red Sparrow and nail some girl cheating on her husband. Bukowski ensues.
Any moving visual aid for this, wiseguy?
You are dry out of luck, mister. Not yer lucky night, eh?
Just the facts, lucky!
It goes topsy-turvy from there for our antihero, Belane. Between some clever quips and general tomfoolery, he talks about the death of the detective ways and the new generations on a city that doesn’t recognizes him. The three intertwined plots are just a distraction, this is just a loving tribute to pulp writing!
Wanna sleep with the fishes? Spill your guts, stool pigeon!
I bought this book because a friend of mine told me I write like Bukowski in real life. I dunno, I like his style but I don’t feel like nicking stuff here and there. It’s his last book and maybe this sentiment seeps through: his yearning (implied) for older days and general disapproval of modern life in general. He is a relic of the olden days and a lot of people remark this (especially when they hear how much he charges, because it’s the standard rate).
The plot is a bit weird, but ends up falling exactly where it belongs. Everything fits, in a cliché way, but you know that’s the author intention, a fact proved by the little blurb at the beginning dedicating the book to “bad writing”.
The humour, oh, Bukowski’s humour sometimes is hit and miss with the non fans, but you can read him on plain form on this one, with the typical expressions you’d expect from a dirty detective novel. Now that I think of, the ending might feel as a bit of cop out or just plain weird, but it fits perfectly with the nature of the Red Sparrow (I won’t spoil this for you, but click the link for the first time I mention “Red Sparrow” on this review).
Bukowski’s quirky writing has a few repetition here and there, going pretty much with the motif that Nick Belane’s life is now a cycle of crappy moments and sleep. Heck, there’s a chapter when he just quaintly informs us that nothing relevant happened and we should skip along.
If anything, it’s one of the better if not the best view inside his head. If you can just replace the words “detective” with “writer”, you can pretty much just see where he is shooting from, how his feelings before the impending death are pretty much that he knows he is doomed, but he doesn’t care: he has a job to do, drinks to imbibe, chicks to bed and a few punches to give away before getting the final curtain call.
If you are new to Bukowski, this is a fine place to start. If you are a fan of some of his ramblings (like the short story about the cheating lovers that are caught by a teleporting husband) or enjoy pulp writing, this is a fantastic addition to your collection.
Who’s your grass, mate? I want to take a butcher’s
Now this is getting silly…. but i’m game:
Quick excerpt:
http://www.diesel-ebooks.com/cgi-bin/item/parent-9780876859261/Pulp-eBook.html#
A few reviews:
http://www-rohan.sdsu.edu/dept/press/ReviewINK/BUKOWSKIpulp.html
http://www.thrillingdetective.com/non_fiction/r024.html
http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/biblio?inkey=93-9780061492655-0
More about the author:
