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The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps (Anglais) Broché – 31 mai 2002

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Descriptions du produit

Présentation de l'éditeur

This collection of previously unpublished poems offers the author's take on squabbling neighbours, off-kilter lovers, would-be hangers-on, and the loneliness of a man afflicted with acute powers of observation. The tone is gritty and amusing, spiralling out towards a cock-eyed wisdom.

Biographie de l'auteur

Charles Bukowski is one of America's best-known contemporary writers of poetry and prose and, many would claim, its most influential and imitated poet. He was born in 1920 in Andernach, Germany, to an American soldier father and a German mother, and brought to the United States at the age of two. He was raised in Los Angeles and lived there for over fifty years. He died in San Pedro, California on March 9, 1994, at the age of seventy-three, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.

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Commentaires client les plus utiles sur Amazon.com (beta)

Amazon.com: 11 commentaires
12 internautes sur 13 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
One of Buk's worst, I am sorry to say! 4 février 2003
Par Uncle Borges - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
Always loved and respected Buk as a unique character in American contemporary Lit. A hand-picked and convinced anarchist who played many games one of his favorites being to present himself as a lumprenproletarian alcos and womanizer (how about a very sensitive and sophisticated writer with fine, fine taste in Literatur & Music?)and yet all good things come to an end. Dear Linda, please stop publishing the leftovers. This book is not worthy of Buk's legacy. Only sporadically a thought a line reminds us of the grand old curmudgeon...and yet forgive me for telling you this. Perhaps the Bukowski book should never end?
13 internautes sur 15 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
A sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun... 9 février 2005
Par Jack Dempsey - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
Well it's raining it's pouring
Didn't bring a sweater
Nebraska never let you come back home
And on hollywood and vine
By the thrifty mart sign
Any night I'll be willin' to bet
There's a young girl
With sweet little dreams
And pretty blue wishes
Standin' there just gettin' all wet

Now there's a place off the drag
Called the Gilbert hotel
And there's a couple letters burned out the sign
And it's better then the bus stop
And they do good business
Every time it rains
For little girls
With nothing in their jeans
but pretty blue wishes
Sweet little thing
And it's raining it's pouring
Old man is snoring
Now I lay me down to sleep
I hear the sirens in the street
All my dreams are made of chrome
I have no way to get back home
I'd rather die before I wake
Like Marilyn Monroe
And throw my dreams out in
The street let the
Rain make 'em grow

Now the night clerk he got a club foot
He's heard every hard luck story
At least a hundred times or more
He says check out time is 10 am
And that's just what he means
Go up the stairs
With your sweet little wishes
Your pretty blue dreams

And it's raining it's pouring
Hollywoods just fine
Swindle a little out of her dreams
Another letter in the sign
Now never trust a scarecrow
Wearin' shades after dark
Be careful of that old bow tie he wears
It takes a sweet little bullet
From a pretty blue gun
To put those scarlet ribbons in your hair

No that ain't no cherry bomb
4th of July's all done
Just some fool playin' that second line
From the barrel of a pretty blue gun

No that ain't no cherry bomb
4th of July's all done
Just some fool playin' that second line
From the barrel of a pretty blue gun

-I find it so childish and stupid (and, to a degree, sickening) that some idiot starts to critique Buk's work by referring to what his dumba*s teachers would have done when presented with poetry. That fool is on such a slippery slope, it's hardly worth comment, but, to begin, everyone knows that those who can't do, teach. Second, of course an idiot such as that reviewer can't come up with anything better, hence he's resigned to writing verbose and over-thought criticims of Buk's work within the confines of Amazon rather than creating anything of worth or substance. My God, I still can't get over it..."if my english teacher saw the word 'brutality' they'd put a red check by name and I'd get no gold star...." Get a life.

As for the rest of you who have enough sense to see through such a review and know that it's worth no more than the bullsh*t it actually is, get this collection of Buk's work without any further thought. It's Buk, it's fantastic, and there are moments of absolute beauty and splendor. I know that makes sense to those who can think for themselves and who actually have a reasonable head on their shoulders.

Anyway, get this book. Enjoy it, cherish it and love it. I'm certain you will.
3 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Not his best punch, but it still leaves a mark just the same... 17 décembre 2009
Par JoeyD - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
"...Unleashing the joyful primal call they could no longer hear." Hank "The Night Torn Mad..."

I have read most of his work, and never tire of it. So bring it on Linda and Black Sparrow, where ever you can find it, bring it all on and share it with the rest of us. So it ain't vintage Buk, who cares, it's Hank. Hank baring it all in the singular signature way he always did. Pass me another beer baby and bring me my Bukowski!

Yeah, I like my Rimbaud and Neruda and Sexton and Pound and Browning and Yeats et al...
But every once in a while...
Bukowski drops on my lap,
And I, lap it up
Like a parched pup
After a lengthy lope.

Lord Bryon he isn't, but I just can't get enough of this cat. If you are new to Hank, then perhaps start someplace else - Post Office, Ham on Rye, Factotum, Love is a Dog From Hell, etc... - but if you are an avid fan of his, you HAVE to add this 2001 posthumous patchwork to your book/poetry collection.

"They say that nothing is wasted: either that or it all is."

This is a great coffee table book. For you can pick it up at any time, turn to almost any page, and see the definition of vulnerability, of truth, of what it means to stand alone against this world and not back down to the mindless masses of mediocrity. So give it a stab folks, it just might be worth it... It was for me!

"...and nothing is more personal than walking down
a stairway alone
thinking about nothing. I often like to
think about nothing for hours."
3 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Powerful antidote for a sheltered life! 22 juillet 2012
Par Eddie Merkel - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Format Kindle Achat vérifié
I am 52 years old and have always been aware I have lived a pretty sheltered life. I was fortunate to get to live overseas for a while as a teenager, mostly in places where people dream of going but also in places most people have never been. Never the less, a sheltered life as I believe most of us have lived.

It has been a long time since just HOW sheltered a life I have led was made so blindingly clear to me. This is the first book of Bukowski's I have ever read. I guarantee I will read more. I can't say his work is beautiful, but as he says himself in one of his poems;

"beautiful things can be terrible and terrible things can be beautiful."

I loved this book of poems; I could hardly put it down. Reading it made me sad and disgusted and intrigued. The stories are so clear and present. He packs so much into so little space it is as if I were doing those things, seeing those people, drinking until I couldn't stand anymore.

I wanted to live in a flop house on the bad side of town and go into bars that are the last stop on the downward spiral to the bottom. I wanted to see what that was like, living on that road to collective self destruction. My wife, of course says "No!"

Fine, I will just have to find more of Bukowski's stuff to read then!
2 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Hard language and smooth insights 17 mars 2002
Par Midwest Book Review - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
Charles Bukowski's poems are grounded in California observations and scenes: and The Night Torn With Mad Footsteps provides new poems from the prolific poet's pen, which range from coastal experiences to reflections on the relative silence of typing on a modern typewriter as compared to noisy manuals of the past. Anticipate some hard language and smooth insights.
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