From the Minster bookshop today.

Now, I have read a Charles Bukowski before, so I know what to expect, and I wasn't shocked. This is dirty and depressing writing, about alcoholic, unwashed men who sit about in dives getting drunk, go to the horses to bet (the short stories on that theme were so dull), treat women like crap, fantasise about raping women and sometimes do it as well... there just doesn't seem to be any joy in life, or anything worth the effort. It makes you feel a bit grimy reading about it all. But at the same time, oddly enough, he does have a dry wit, and there are some funny one liners in here. Because hey, you've got to laugh, or else you'd just cry.

The thing is, the book I read before was Post Office, which is a novel. This book is a collection of short stories - so immediately you've got the problem that some will be better than others. But as a collection of lots of little stories, it is too depressing. It's stop-start into these depressing little excerpts of lowlife humanity and I'm at the point where I just can't read any more. Hey, I got past page 138, so I have given this a fair enough chance. But I would say if you're new to Bukowski, maybe try a different book? This may well be for fans only.

Posting to a bookmoocher in London.