Charles Bukowski- Tales of Ordinary Madness

Tales of Ordinary Madness

Virgin Press

Charles Bukowski

1983

Other Bukowski Reviews; Post Office - Factotum - Women - Ham on Rye - Tales of Ordinary Madness - Notes of a Dirty Old Man

“to ask them to legalize pot is something like asking them to put butter on the handcuffs before they place them on you, something else is hurting you - that's why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can't think, or madhouses or mechanical cunts or 162 baseball games in a season. or vietnam or israel or the fear of spiders. your love washing her yellow false teeth in the sink before you screw.” 

After the disappointment of The Face of Another, my next choice of reading material was an intentionally safe one; picking from three Charles Bukowski options and coming out with another collection of out-there articles, in a similar vain to Notes of a Dirty Old Man. Like Notes..., Tales of Ordinary Madness collects a range of short pieces originally published in magazines and underground newspapers, from 1967-1975, with no stated theme or narrative in common than Bukowski's individually brilliant explosive style.

Though Bukowksi is probably more well-known in the twenty-first century for his poetry and novels like Post Office, his bibliography of miscellanea is extensive; as someone who struggles to hold his brain together long enough to compose a four paragraph review of somebody else's work Bukowski is both my hero and antithesis. As such each of his many collected volumes have a parade of timeless essays and short fictions to present, and Tales of Ordinary Madness is probably my favourite of those I've yet read. Bukowski deviates from short stories to essays to self-portraying thinly veiled memoirs with equal ease, and this collection offers a good variety in style, thankfully preventing the intensity of thought Bukowksi presents from becoming overwhelming.

If you've experienced Bukowski before then you should know what to expect from his style and subjects, and if you haven't then this book would surely be a great introduction. The blurb on the book cover describes him as 'the godfather of lowlife literature', which is absolutely accurate. Each of his main characters (all of whom are essentially just variations upon the author himself) deal in the most disgusting, debased, drug-infested and morally-corrupt circumstances, as he presents an America drowning in its own debauchery. There is no happy ending, sometimes not even a plot, but Bukowski's narration bounces electrically from point to point, his vitriol unstoppable as he observes the decaying wreck of a once great empire. His humour is so black that it's impossibly to accurately determine what is and isn't a joke; my favourite story Rape! Rape! demonstrating that in the most offensive way possible.

In conclusion, obviously Charles Bukowski isn't for everyone, and if you're the type easily offended through text then he's clearly not for you. For anybody else looking for an uncensored artistic rant at the world through the medium of uncompromisingly vile short segments, if Hunter S. Thompson's not hardcore enough for you, then Chuck Bukowki's the man you need. He'll shake your brain up and make you enjoy it.