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Summary
Summary
"The Walt Whitman of Los Angeles."--Joyce Carol Oates, bestselling author
"He brought everybody down to earth, even the angels."--Leonard Cohen, songwriter
One of Charles Bukowski's best, this beer-soaked, deliciously degenerate novel follows the wanderings of aspiring writer Henry Chinaski across World War II-era America. Deferred from military service, Chinaski travels from city to city, moving listlessly from one odd job to another, always needing money but never badly enough to keep a job. His day-to-day existence spirals into an endless litany of pathetic whores, sordid rooms, dreary embraces, and drunken brawls, as he makes his bitter, brilliant way from one drink to the next.
Charles Bukowski's posthumous legend continues to grow. Factotum is a masterfully vivid evocation of slow-paced, low-life urbanity and alcoholism, and an excellent introduction to the fictional world of Charles Bukowski.
Author Notes
Charles Bukowski was born in Andernach, Germany, on August 16, 1920. He came to the United States with his parents when he was three years old and spent his early years in poverty. As a young man he was a transient, doing odd jobs. He lived most of his live in boarding houses in the Los Angeles area. He attended Los Angeles City College briefly. He worked for the United States Postal Service for about ten years.
Bukowski was at home with street people and his work contains a brutal realism and graphic imagery. He began publishing short stories in the mid-1940s. Starting with Flower, Fist and Bestial Wail in 1959, he produced poetry collections almost once a year. His following had grown by the time his collection of poetry about down-and-outers titled It Catches My Heart in Its Hands appeared in 1963. His short story collections include Dirty Old Man and Ejaculations, Exhibitions and General Tales of Ordinary Madness. His novels, with an autobiographical character called Henry Chinaski, include Post Office and Factotum.
Bukowski wrote the screenplay for the 1987 motion picture Barfly. He later wrote about the filming of Barfly in his novel, Hollywood.
Bukowski died in San Pedro, California, on March 9, 1994.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Excerpts
Excerpts
Factotum tie-in Chapter One I arrived in New Orleans in the rain at 5 o'clock in the morning. I sat around in the bus station for a while but the people depressed me so I took my suitcase and went out in the rain and began walking. I didn't know where the rooming houses were, where the poor section was. I had a cardboard suitcase that was falling apart. It had once been black but the black coating had peeled off and yellow cardboard was exposed. I had tried to solve that by putting black shoepolish over the exposed cardboard. As I walked along in the rain the shoepolish on the suitcase ran and unwittingly I rubbed black streaks on both legs of my pants as I switched the suitcase from hand to hand. Well, it was a new town. Maybe I'd get lucky. The rain stopped and the sun came out. I was in the black district. I walked along slowly. " Hey, poor white trash! " I put my suitcase down. A high yellow was sitting on the porch steps swinging her legs. She did, look good. " Hello, poor white trash! " I didn't say anything. I just stood there looking at her. "How'd you like a piece of ass, poor white trash?" She laughed at me. She had her legs crossed high and she kicked her feet; she had nice legs, high heels, and she kicked her legs and laughed. I picked up my suitcase and began to approach her up the walk. As I did I noticed a side curtain on a window to my left move just a bit. I saw a black man's face. He looked like Jersey Joe Wolcott. I backed down the pathway to the sidewalk. Her laughter followed me down the street. Chapter Two I was in a room on the second floor across from a bar. The bar was called The Gangplank Cafe. From my room I could see through the open bar doors and into the bar. There were some rough faces in that bar, some interesting faces. I stayed in my room at night and drank wine and looked at the faces in the bar while my money ran out. In the daytime I took long slow walks. I sat for hours staring at pigeons. I only ate one meal a day so my money would last longer. I found a dirty cafe with a dirty proprietor, but you got a big breakfast--hotcakes, grits, sausage--for very little. Chapter Three I went out on the street, as usual, one day and strolled along. I felt happy and relaxed. The sun was just right. Mellow. There was peace in the air. As I approached the center of the block there was a man standing outside the doorway of a shop. I walked past. "Hey, buddy!" I stopped and turned. "You want a job?" I walked back to where he stood. Over his shoulder I could see a large dark room. There was a long table with men and women standing on both sides of it. They had hammers with which they pounded objects in front of them. In the gloom the objects appeared to be clams. They smelled like clams. I turned and continued walking down the street. I remembered how my father used to come home each night and talk about his job to my mother. The job talk began when he entered the door, continued over the dinner table, and ended in the bedroom where my father would scream " Lights Out! "at 8 p.m., so he could get his rest and his full strength for the job the next day. There was no other subject except the job. Down by the corner I was stopped by another man. "Listen, my friend . . . " he began. "Yes?" I asked. "Listen, I'm a veteran of World War I. I put my life on the line for this country but nobody will hire me, nobody will give me a job. They don't appreciate what I did. I'm hungry, give me some help . . . " "I'm not working." "You're not working?" "That's right." I walked away. I crossed the street to the other side. " You're lying! " he screamed. "You're working. You've got a job!" A few days later I was looking for one. Factotum tie-in . Copyright © by Charles Bukowski. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Factotum by Charles Bukowski All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
