My second Bukowski/Chinaski book.

The writing style is unusual, of course. The sentences are short and simple and they made me feel like I was reading something written for kids (in style only of course, not subject matter).

But as the character comes through more it resonates well with his "fuck it" persona.

And more than that: It's infectious. After reading a couple of chapters I found myself texting and emailing as Henry Chinaski, completely unaware.

And then suddenly, I got it. The beauty of it came flooding through. The style isn't 'simple', it's nonchalant.

There's something ineffably likable about Chinaski despite him being a pretty loathsome kinda guy.

So anyway. Suffice to say I really enjoyed the book.