Publication
Santa Rosa Black Sparrow 1996
ISBN
0876859686 / 9780876859681
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Description
An account of Charles Bukowski's 1978 European trip. In 1978 Europe was new territory for Bukowski holding the secrets of his own personal ancestry and origins. En route to his birthplace in Andernach, Germany, he is trailed by celebrity-hunters and paparazzi, appears drunk on French television, blows a small fortune at a Dusseldorf racetrack and stands in a Cologne Cathedral musing about life and death.
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User reviews
LibraryThing member DinoReader
I wasn't looking for anything serious; I'd heard this was a breezy account of Bukowski's European book promotion tour; and, it is. I read Bukowski more to look at how he structures story telling and his use of different sentences structures. So, for me, I saw here what I think is the longest
Maybe the most interesting thing about this short piece is the ease with which Bukowski contradicts himself in making observations about places in Germany, France and the USA. It feels completely normal and genuine. It's the ability to do that, to capture it on paper, and have the reader accept it, that is part of Bukowski's skill.
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sentence I've ever seen Bukowski write. It's in the section about his trip to a cathedral and his thoughts about God. I didn't think I'd ever see a sentence that long from Bukowski. The story of the trip itself is not unusual, no transformations occur or any personal growth. Some observations supplement things already said in earlier novels. It's short and very quickly read, cheap entertainment. Maybe the most interesting thing about this short piece is the ease with which Bukowski contradicts himself in making observations about places in Germany, France and the USA. It feels completely normal and genuine. It's the ability to do that, to capture it on paper, and have the reader accept it, that is part of Bukowski's skill.
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LibraryThing member smichaelwilson
Read this without fully realizing that Bukowski dies back in 1994, which ironicly is the same year I first discovered him when I cam across Post Office in a used bookstore (I was working for the USPS at the time). I didn't get him then. Much more on his wavelength thirty years later.
Shakespeare
Reading this, I can see the casual brilliance that has drawn people to Bukowski's work. He'll just prattle on in concise, matter-of-fact language, flippant and casual, and then suddenly he'll spit out a clump of pure, deep, profound prose that makes you go back and read that sentence over and over. The quote from Picasso that opens this book serves a perfect definition of what Bukowski means to his audiences; living, breathing evidence that there is the potential a poet in all of us, and with that proof a glimmer of hope for humanity, if not for us personally.
Shakespeare
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Never Did This is more of a travelogue along the lines of The Curse of Lono, famous author paid to write about their trip to a foreign country, in this case a reading/signing tour of Germany and France.Reading this, I can see the casual brilliance that has drawn people to Bukowski's work. He'll just prattle on in concise, matter-of-fact language, flippant and casual, and then suddenly he'll spit out a clump of pure, deep, profound prose that makes you go back and read that sentence over and over. The quote from Picasso that opens this book serves a perfect definition of what Bukowski means to his audiences; living, breathing evidence that there is the potential a poet in all of us, and with that proof a glimmer of hope for humanity, if not for us personally.
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Original publication date
1979
1995 (expanded)