Book-o-the-Day: Chump Change by Dan Fante
I like to read a book a day, except for on Fri/Sat, when I read ½ book a day (I binge drink on Friday, complete the book, forget every word in a poisonous fog, wake, reread it on Saturday—do the math.)
Today’s book was Chump Change, by Dan Fante.
Dan Fante writes like Charles Bukowski who writes like John Fante (Dan’s dad, Buk’s muse). All three believe they descend from Jack Hemingway, the love child of Ernest and London.
They do not.
J Fante has the best book of the three (Ask the Dust). Bukowksi writes the most agreeable characters (usually through their self deprecation—one technique of developing sympathetic characters.)
I like the play of words: Chump Change. This book is product placement for Mogen David 20/20 (Aka Mad Dog). The best sentence is on pp. 155: “I decided to beat off with her, move for move, so I set my food aside.” Before heading off to L.A. to purse your glittering halos of need, I suggest you read this book. It will take you one hour, fourteen minutes to finish.
That is all.
Uncategorized / 31 Comments
December 17th, 2009 / 9:14 pm
December 17th, 2009 / 9:14 pm
writer’s i’d like to fuck MENCIUS
relax, mencius, i don't want to hurt you
i think i would most like to fuck Mencius, who was a distant pupil of Confucius. i would be gentle with Mencius and i would make Mencius a really good omelette afterward. i think Mencius would be the type of person who would thank me for the omelette even if it was kind of fucked up from flipping it the wrong way. it would be nice to just make an omelette for Mencius. i would make the omelette naked, standing in my kitchen and Mencius would come out of my room, with his hair kind of messed up and only a blanket on. i would say, “hey lover” and then i would ask Mencius if he ever met Confucius. i would then ask Mencius a bunch of questions about THE ANALECTS until Mencius got annoyed and started smoking a Newport and ashing onto my carpet. then Mencius would tell me to “look it up on wikipedia.” Mencius would ask me “whose number is that in your phone” and i would grit my teeth and avoid the question. i think Mencius would be the writer i’d most like to fuck because most writers annoy me in person. originally i though i would write this on bukowski so whenever people were arguing about how great or how shitty bukowski was, i could just say, “yeah well i fucked him, so shut up.” also, is katie couric a writer?
i took the two and smashed them together until they became a solid piece of total beauty
Today at Dennis Cooper’s Den of Awesome, we learn all about the poet Steve Richmond.
Hey
Hey, I woke up today!
And there was the sun again
shooting in through the shades
and spearing me in the eye!
And the clock! Still alive!
and the rug was not on fire!
and the lawn! The trees! The gutter!
All there! Once again!
Today!
Mean Monday: Bukowski dick
God, Bukowski. Did that guy really ever have to exist? I think it was funny and ‘connective’ as a 17 year old seeing books with titles like ‘sometimes you get so alone it just makes sense’ or whatever permutation of that title was on that book cover. But like Nirvana to rock music, an ‘innovator’ who makes a whole previously quieter genre big bucks famous, Bukowski is probably more responsible for boring, retarded writing than, well, anybody maybe, except for Thoreau?
Nah, it’s Bukowski.
Case in Point: this dude on 3:am. 3AM is confusing in that they seem split between interesting, weird writing (mostly culled by Ellen and Tao) and the UK grime / ‘Brutalist’ garbage, which is often like the ULA junior.
I think about the time I was offered coke at college and replied that I wasn’t thirsty. When a taxi-driver asked if I liked ‘bud’ and I thought he meant Budweiser.
I think I wrote something a joke like this when I was 17, before I’d tried beer.
This set of ‘poems’ newly published on 3AM, I’m really not sure who thought this would be interesting, maybe they know their market or something, but ruminations on reality TV, cokeheads, and bad parents, well, hrm, those are all things that are hard to talk about well probably, and especially not in the manner of Dr. B.
Add that the 3:AM dude looks like Billy Corgan on meth, and yip. But that’s below the belt.
One day they will publish a selected works of Bukowski that will be worth buying, as 1 in 18 of his poems will sometimes knock you on your ass, but otherwise, well bub, thanks a lot.