Peanuts, By Charles Bukowski
These short stories and poems called “Peanuts, by Charles Bukowski” (actually by Hanstock) could possibly the most brilliant thing I’ve seen on the internet all year, maybe ever.
books
Students For An Orwellian Society
Students for an Orwellian Society is a cool nationwide student group that is documenting instances of Ingsoc (based on George Orwells prophetic novel “1984”) in todays news. They also have a great T-shirt selection.
24 For The Literatti
List of novels whose action takes place within 24 hours. I haven’t read a single one of them.
Henry Chinaski
It was thirteen years ago today that Bukowski drank his last beer. Seems as good a time as any to pre-order his two poetry books The “People Look Like Flowers At Last: New Poems” and “Come On In!”. Sleep well dear friend.
Catcher In The Bananafish
Last October I told you about the unpublished chapter of Charlie & The Chocolate Factory. But I think this tops it. Uncovered at this link are the “under-published” works of Jerome David Salinger. This collection consists mostly of out-of-print short stories. Salinger has deliberately kept most of these works out-of-print or off the market, so it should be said, the above linked website not only infringes on Salinger’s copyrights, it also makes certain material obtainable against Salinger’s will. But I’m not going to feel shamed for sharing the link, because some of it is fucking beautiful.
The Secret Ordeal Of Miranda Piker
The secret ordeal of Miranda Piker:
Before Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was published in 1964 Roald Dahl pared down his cast of characters. Last to go was Miranda Piker and her chapter has appeared only once — in mirror script. Here, for the first time, we publish her comeuppance the right way round.
Pure
I should start by pointing out that Rebbecca Ray was only 16 years old when she began writing Pure, and it shows. However, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Because the novel is about adolescence, Rebbecca Ray’s age while writing the novel keeps her closer to the subject matter. At the same time, her age often shows in her unpolished writing via some shallow characterization and a very poor ending. Pure is an admirable first effort for such a young writer and a decent cotton candy read but it is by no means a fantastic or important novel. I may have found this book more interesting than most due having enjoyed other, better novels with similar themes involving female adolescence.
Our unnamed narrator is a 14-year-old girl who is struggling desperately to find her place. She’s struggling to feel anything at all, really. The story begins with what appears to be a relatively normal British kid with problems the typical problems of peer acceptance, minor family problems, and just wanting to grow up. As the story moves forward we find that our main characters life is more complicated and not nearly as normal as we first expected. The narrators emotional ambiguity and sad apathy seem tip prove the helplessness of adolescence. The uncertainty of how to judge what is happening to her seems to the most poignant and truthful theme in the novel and that also of our teenage years that provide so many new experiences. As thing in her life become more complicated, problems with her parents escalate. When her overbearing father and ineffectual mother fall further apart, their 14-year-old daughter begins dating a man over twice her age. She allows, then craves abusive relationships and before long her feelings of self-loathing become self-destructive: hurt becomes love, repulsion becomes sexy, and pain is part of fitting in.
This novel harbors very little joy and it’s not sensational or sentimental. But being along similar veins of Perks Of Being A Wall Flower and Kids, this book is interesting in that it is both fascinating and upsetting to look at how growing up has changed for the modern child. You wince for the girl in this book, but you also relate; remembering what it was like, having been in that cool basement, on that lumpy couch, wondering if they actually like you back or are just fumbling toward an incomprehensible and obscure maturity too.