Greetings, everybody! Today, we also published a big old book review over on our other blog, which should make up for no Book of da Week this week. So, like Bukowski? Like profanity? Want something to remind you your job isn’t as bad as you think? You’ll enjoy Post Office! Thanking you muchly – Mr. Wapojif xoxoxoxox
Right, my last three reviews have encompassed a lot of serious philosophising and whatnot. Charles Bukowski’s Post Office (1971) isn’t quite in the same league there, but what it does represent is a fine instalment in addiction, and down and out, literature, as well as something genuinely funny to read.
The former sprung forth through the likes of Thomas De Quincey in the 19th century, who candidly discussed his addiction to opium. The latter, down and out literature, I first came across when I read several of George Orwell’s works, which dealt with poverty and social and economic injustice – a sad situation which hasn’t advanced a great deal since Orwell’s day.
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