Charles Bukowski: Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life – Howard Sounes

Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life is the classic biography of Charles Bukowski, the hard-drinking barfly whose semi-autobiographical books about low-life America made him a cult figure across the globe. Extensive original research and unique contributions from friends, family and associates - including Mickey Rourke, Robert Crumb, Sean Penn, Norman Mailer and Allen Ginsberg - as well as personal photographs and drawings by Buk himself make this a must for Bukowski devotees and new readers alike

Genre: Non-Fiction, Biography, Poetry, American
Publisher:  Canongate Books
Year: 1998
Rating: 5/5 

I discovered Charles Buokwski a few years ago. I was flicking through literature pages on Stumbleupon, and happened upon a page about Charles Bukowski. I had never heard of him before, yet the author of the page hailed him as an American literary legend. I didn't think much of it, until a friend posted a poem of his on Facebook. I fell in love. From there on in, I was hooked. 

I spent ages trawling the net reading Bukowski's poetry. I really don't have anything new to say about it, and am probably rehashing what many before me have said, but it spoke it me. Bukowski's poetry is raw and honest. It is gritty and to the point. It speaks of life how it is without embellishments. That is what I love about it. It is real. 

I have written a few reviews on Bukowski's novels, Ham on Rye and Post Office. His novels are just as enjoyable as his poetry (Ham on Rye was fantastic) and I couldn't recommend them enough. 

As a certified Bukowski fan, I felt it was time I indulged in a biography about his life. I had heard much about Bukowski's life before. His novels are semi-autobiographical and his exploits are infamous, but I wanted to read more. I wanted to know more about my man, Bukowski.

To be perfectly honest (and I have said this before) I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Bukowski. As much as I love his work, as a person I am not so sure. I saw a YouTube video of an interview once, and Bukowski kicked his girlfriend and called her a 'S'. That is just abhorrent. I makes me wish Bukowski were alive today so I can tell him how much I love his work, and then punch him in the face.

Charles Bukowski: Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life by Howard Sounes was a great biography. Sounes is obviously a big Bukowski fan, because his love for his work and admiration of Bukowski as a poet and a person, flowed off every page. 

In one respect this was great, as I felt a camaraderie with Sounes while reading this book, and enjoyed it immensely. On the other hand, I felt Sounes built Bukowski up a bit and made him seem more noble and moral than he really was. 

Was Bukowski just a misunderstood soul who was misjudged? Was he really a good guy who did a few bad things out of character? Or was he a raging drunk with a bad temper? I personally always felt the later but Sounes makes it seems like the former. 

Despite that, this book is a worthy read for Bukowski fans. If you want to know more about his life and how he made his way from dorky nobody to famous poet, this is a great place to start. If you are looking for an objective piece of work, then this isn't for you. 

My only other criticism is Sounes took a lot from Bukowski's novels. He quoted, referred to and used the material from his novels as a basis for the 'facts' in this book. I can understand why, since Bukowski's novels were semi-autobiographical and they are important in researching his life, but Sounes seemed to use them as a crutch. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and am pleased it now has pride of place on my shelves. That said,  I do look forward to reading a more researched and original work on Bukowski in the future, if it exists. 

I think I'll end this review with some poetry from the Buk.... cause how else can we celebrate such greatness without a word from the man himself? This is one of my personal favourites. Enjoy. 

blasted apart with the first breath

running
out of days
as the banister glints
in the early morning sun.

there
will be
no rest
even in our dreams.

now all there is to do
is reset broken moments.
when even to exist seems a
victory
then surely our luck
has run thin
thinner than a bloody stream
toward
death.
 

life
is a sad song:
we have heard too many voices
seen too many faces

too many bodies

worst have been the faces:
a dirty joke that no one
can understand.

barbaric senseless days
total in your skull;
reality is a juiceless
orange.

there is no plan
no out
no divinity no sparrow of joy.
we can’t
compare
life to anything
- that’s too dreary
a prospect. 

relatively speaking
we were never short on
courage
but at best the odds remained
long
and at worst
unchangeable.

and
what was worst:
not that we wasted it
but that it was wasted
on us:

coming
out of the Womb
trapped in light and darkness
stricken and numbed
alone in the temperate zone
of dumb agony
now running out of days
as the banister glints
in the early morning
sun.

– Charles Bukowski 1920-1994

The Simple Gift - Steven Herrick

One of the things I love about working at an after school tutoring centre, is how it helps to broaden my reading. My year 12 students come from a variety of different schools, are taking different courses and studying different texts. The Simple Gift by Steven Herrick is one of the prescribed texts for the standard HSC course, in the area of study - belonging. 

Genre: Fiction, YA, Australian, Poetry
Publisher: UQP
Year: 2000
Rating: 5/5

This novel is about Billy, who leaves home aboard a freight train heading interstate. Billy finds himself in Bendarat, living in a disused train carriage, where he meets a homeless man called Old Bill. Old Bill drinks away his past while Billy tries to find a future. The other main character is Caitlin, a girl Billy meets in Bendarat. All three characters are searching for something to give their lives substance.

I was surprised how much I enjoyed this novel. I was a little skeptical when I first picked it up as this novel is written in verse. Yep, that's right... a novel written entirely in verse. Although, being a young adult novel it is written in a way that is easily accessible, which made for a very quick read. I think I knocked this book over in about an hour. That's not to say it wasn't well written. This book was a pleasure to read. 

"I tried to read between the lines, holding someone's past in my dirty hands"

The thing I enjoyed most about this book was the characters. Billy runs away from an abusive father and ends up in Bendarat. Little does he realise, he is about to form two of the most important relationships of his life. The first one is with an old hobo who is also named Bill. Billy nicknames him, Old Bill.

Old Bill is also running from his past.... from an accident that destroyed his family. He lives in the train carriage next to Billy and they soon form a friendship. Billy's kindness and generosity touch Old Bill and help him put his life back together. This novel shows how the simple gift of kindness and friendship are the most important things you can give to a person... it can be life changing. 

"and he tells me
about his Jessie
and his wife
and the house he visits
when too much drink
has made him forget
and how he's afraid to forget
because without his ghosts
he's afraid he'll have nothing to live for.
And at that moment I know
I am listening to
the saddest man in the world."
- Steven Herrick, p.104-105

The second character that Billy comes into contact with is Caitlin. Caitlin comes from a wealthy household and has everything she could ever want in life. Every material thing that is. The one thing she is lacking is internal and she is not sure what it is or how to find it. 

Caitlin was an endearing character. She wasn't the typical, spoilt little rich girl. She knew there was more to life, she just didn't know how to find it... until Billy came along and she found herself drawn to the strange, homeless boy. They soon form a friendship which blossoms into a romance and Caitlin realises there is so much more to life, and herself, than she was aware of.

The story of Old Bill in this novel was very sad. It breaks my heart to think of all the homeless people out there and how one event in a persons life, can throw everything off course and destroy a person inside and out. Life is so unpredictable and we should always appreciate what we have at every moment, because we don't know when it will all be taken away.

Billy was also endearing. Even thought he was in a dire situation with little money or food, he still did his best to help another human being in need. More people in life need to be like Billy. The world would be a much nicer place, if they were. 

All in all, this was a fantastic young adult novel. The characters, relationships, places, events and ideas in this book can all be linked closely to the concept of belonging which makes for a great text to use in this area of study. I am looking forward to teaching it this term, and will most definitely use it myself in the classroom.

Smokey Joe's Cafe - Bryce Courtenay

Bryce Courtenay is a popular Australian author who has written numerous books, many with an Australian theme. Smokey Joe's Cafe follows the fictional story of Thommo, a Vietnam Vet, and his fight to save his daughter's life. 

Genre: Fiction, Australian, Vietnam War
Year First Published: 2001
Publisher: Penguin
Rating: 5/5

Thommo returns from Vietnam to an Australia that does not want him. An Australia that has shunned its Vietnam Vets and treats them like they are guilty of war crimes. Not only that, Thommo also is plagued by many psychological and physicals problems as a result of his time spent in the jungle. He is assessed by many government issued medical specialists, who tell him there is nothing wrong with him. They tell him that any problems he does have is a result of a supposed childhood injury, a forgotten accident or just a general ailment. They tell him that agent orange is as harmless as baby powder. They tell him that his infant daughter's leukemia is just a coincidence. 

Thommo almost believes them, that is until he is reacquainted with his old platoon. Shorty, his platoon leader, shows up at Thommo's cafe one day. He brings with him the nine other surviving men who fought together in the Battle of Long Tan. Turns out they all too have similar physical and psychological problems, and they are not too happy with the way the government is treating them. 

Shorty has come up with a plan. A plan to not only get back at the government but to save Anna. Anna needs a bone-marrow transplant but Thommo and his wife Wendy do not match. They also do not have the money to continue paying for expensive surgeries and treatments. So Shorty, with the help of his platoon, and an ex-Viet Cong named Nam Tran, hatch a plan to grow and sell marijuana to raise the money for their plight.

When Wendy finds out about this she demands to be included and soon the plan changes from a simple, grow and sell, to a complex plot involving Nam Tran's special skills in making 'hash honey', Wendy's public relations skills and influence on the socialite set and the full force of a Vietnam Vet bikie gang!

This was one hell of a story! I laughed, I cried, I felt exhausted afterwards! Although this was a fictional story, the psychological and physical problems that plague Vets is all too real. The fact that children born of Vets who came into contact with agent orange, statistically suffer more illness or are born with more birth defects, is a fact. The terrible way in which the Australian government and the public treated these men once they returned home from war is also all too real. It is hearing stories like this, that make me feel ashamed on behalf of Australia. 

Regardless of what you think of war, these men fought and died. They deserve nothing more than respect and support. There is no justification for the way these men were treated. The fact that many men and their families continue to be affected by what happened in Vietnam just makes me so very sad. The fact that a generation of children have suffered is heartbreaking. Yet this is an issue which is rarely talked about in Australian society.

The Battle of Long Tan is a prolific event in Australian history. It is described and discussed in this book in graphic detail. This is a book every Australian needs to read at least once in their lives. This is the sort of history lesson that schools do not provide. 

Historical aspects aside, this was just such a sad story, yet also a story of triumph! These men, with their own problems to deal with, took on board the plight of a young girl. They risked arrest and incarceration in order to try and save her life. Can you imagine a army of 100 Harley Davidson's roaring down the highway in an effort to gain media attention to a child's medical condition and find that life saving marrow donor!? That is just all kinds of awesome. 

This is the kind of book that I am sure will stick with me for some time. One of Courtenay's finest!

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The following poem was written by the wife a Vietnam Vet. It shows how the wives and families for the men who served in Vietnam must carry their burden. It is a long poem, a sad poem but a good poem. I found this on a military poetry site, I hope that Marilyn Masters doesn't mind me publishing it here.

SOLDIERS' STORY

for Tim (1949 - 1999) - 'a stuffed unit' - with forgiveness...

The ghost of the Iroquois flies at night, invades his restless dreams
its' thumping blades precede his flight, so real it nearly screams.
Tunnels dark and dank with fear, traversed within his head
beyond his dreams it scarcely seems an end could come to dread.

For 'Uncle Ho' and the yellow foe, they yet remain his plight
He thrashes out in deep despair, still desperate in the fight.
he can't escape the grim abyss that's been is home too long -
the cries of blasted, bloodied mates - for him his only song.

In dead of night their screams he hears - tears in to save a mate -
too late to change - by thirty years - his cataclysmic fate.
The M16's his Mistress, she alone can quell his dread...
just she and comrades now long dead can climb into his head.

The battlefields of Nui Dat - the hell that was Long Tan
have claimed the soul of this empty shell - that once was known as man.
For Phoc Tuy Province claimed its' prize way back in sixty nine...
this 'Tunnel Rat' of RAR will never more by mine.

The Army taught its' lesson; Price: a tragic list of names;
the 'prawns of war' to sacrifice, as Masters played their games.
'Search and Destroy' they cry went out - and men rose to the call -
Guerilla forces weakened as these soldiers gave their all.

With ANZAC pride of other wars, t hey charged straight into hell
while politicians fought their cause - a different tale to tell.
'Sensitive politically' would help conceal the truth...
A land aflood with Aussie blood - the martyrdom of youth.

They brought them home in midnight flights -
young men with souls aflame
Veterans of 'the War that's lost' - it had not other name.
defeat is seeped from every pore, the stench was rancid sweet...
its told the tale of their betrayal to fools on civvy street.

No 'Home Parade for Heroes' met return from Vietnam
just flak in pubs and bars and clubs for being in the scam.
The khaki, once so proudly worn, became a flag of scorn
For AAP and Reuters had denounced the legend born.

Demobbed - the khaki shed for good, I'd hoped you'd come to stay;
I thought somehow I understood, but from that fateful day
exhausted, you sat up all night... to keep the dreams at bay...
The Iroquois' ghost came then in spite - and named your price to pay.

Your days in brooding silence spent - 'friend' bourbon in your hand
sole occupant and jealous guard of dark and barren land...
The devil called the Viet Cong sat vigil at your gate...
that demon barred my way therein - t'was he who sealed my fate.

Rare 'windows' to your soul appeared - the bottom of the glass
and then you'd let me look, I feared, at what I couldn't pass...
As you knocked another bourbon back, you'd talk of deeds you'd done..
and then I knew - the end is black - my battle can't be won.

No solace left, the dregs all gone, Jim Beam has done his job;
but burdens shared have not moved on the wild and angry mob
Of phantoms thirsting for the kill - they still invade your head...
It's weary, spend and lonely still, you take me to your bed.

As you eased along the tunnels - torch and pistol in your hand,
you came to me in nights of dread to claim your wedding band.
Too glad, I welcomed your embrace, your gentle intercourse,
But fires of hate your soul encase - you took me then with force...

For memories flooded back to you of far off Vung Tau bars -
Where solace taken in the arms of pretty girls with stars
in eyes of black with depths unseen - took pay for where you'd been...
the forward scout who goes ahead.. and seeks to intervene.

You'd learned to trust in daylight hours = took solace there from fright;
That Village girl - your friend by day - turned Viet Cong by night...
You learned the lesson bloody well - to treat love with mistrust -
You made my life a tortured hell - for everything unjust.

You took me on a guided tour - I've walked the 'Halls of Hell'...
run the gauntlet underground, and dodged the mortar shell.
It's I who've held the dying mate - wishing it was me,
and I who've been the forward scout suspecting every tree...

But, more than you, I've borne the price - for me no help exists -
No band of understanding men - for me the War persists...
For me, no need of ANZAC Day recalling those who served...
My ANZAC Day is every day - my price is undeserved.

The Ghost of the Iroquois haunts my nights ... my days.. and in between
With mortar shell in 'Killing Fields' - YOU say I haven't seen...
My napalmed heart, with love bereft, is burning out my dreams...
My passions' spend... I've nothing left ... an empty shell it seems...

Lest we forget ....

Marilyn Masters (Copyright)