The Herbal Scents of Farm Life
Suddenly finding herself in a rural setting, Lin Caisang became the village's renowned 'Star of Wealth and Honor'. Surrounded by unique relatives, they treated her as if she were a rare panda—held preciously in their palms for fear she would fall and gently kept in their mouths lest she dissolved.
Meet the exceptional relatives:
The Powerhouse Father, who declared, "You want Sangsang to get married? You'll have to get past me first."
The Stingy Mother, questioning, "What does she need a husband for? She can have all the fine food and a carefree life with me!"
The Sly Grandfather, suggesting, "Girls shouldn’t have to do the dirty, tiring work. Quick, call over your brother!"
The Majestic Grandmother, fiercely proclaiming, "Who dares to bully Sangsang? Let them face a fight to the death with me!"
The Protective Brother, assuring, "Little sister, all the good food is for you. I am not hungry!"
Holding her flabby flesh, Lin Caisang wept without tears: "Let me go! I need to lose weight!" Meanwhile, the strikingly handsome, icy man next door not only protected and spoiled her in secret but also had a not-so-simple identity.....
Slightly Attractive · General
A delirious, repetitive, repressed and hostile bureaucratic nightmare, Post Office is a novel that takes on Bukowski's decade-plus chained to the postal system. As a compelling artist, sloppy drunk, and sexually voracious gambler, Bukowski drifts in and out of his narrative with unsentimental anger and boozy energy, an undercurrent of resentment and anger everpresent until it is contrasted clean with the interest and indulgent love for the women in his life. The most provocative elements of this book was certainly the portions where we see the shuffling, confusing, scary catch-22 Brazil-esque burlesque of his work in the Post Office itself. Cycling in and out, over and over, unable to even quit his job, Bukowski created a labyrinthine grand guinol of paper and sorting boxes all standing in his way of his net drink, his next lay, and his ability to even write a halfway decent line of poetry. In many ways, this reflects how I personally see my own art in the world, and it is in this manner that I really connected with his character in this book. In real life, the genesis of this book and Bukowski’s career came from being offered a hundred bucks a month to quit the post office to promise to write full time by John Martin and Black Sparrow Press…and so we all wish for this little black sparrow angel to fly into our window someday. The most beautiful element of the book was easily the portrayal of his relationship with Betty (Jane Cooney Baker). They were perfect for each other, but in the piece the sentimentality with which he approached their relationship in both tone, diction, syntax, and other practical elements isn’t mirrored by any other writing in the book or in his approach to any other woman in any of his books. It is simply this beautiful, pure, self-destructive relationship that serves as a wholly gorgeous and holy relic that he certainly held on to for the rest of his life…and it seems that the story arc with her is one of the most beautiful things that he had ever written – the only thing that he had ever cared for snatched from him just as he realized that it was the most important thing in the world to him. What destroyed her is exactly what he tried to destroy himself with, and in her death he found the death of love, the death of a healthy sexual identity, and the death of himself. Of course, the narrative pacing and overall diction of Bukowski's narrative voice are certainly the most compelling elements of this book. There is a certain blue-collarness to his writing that offers a remarkably simple approach to what is often a much more serious and Complicated piece – but his genius lies in this very thing. Bukowski can create a story that is appropriate for all intellectual audiences and still write something that is completely different in terms of overall beauty and meaning in the English Language. This is likely why legions of writers thought they could follow in his footsteps and write when nothing could be further from the truth (and Bukowski had no problem telling them that). An excellent, excellent, excellent book that should be required reading for all American men.