The following is in response to C. Bukowski’s “My Madness.”
The tone in this piece is “dark,” depicting a side of writing that it depressingly lonely; Bukowski writes that “Few of the books said anything to me” and “I just didn’t understand people” and “And if there is anybody out there who feels crazy enough to want to become a writer…go ahead…it’s the best madness…” It’s from these lines I get a sense of loneliness and depression.
In several places, Bukowski even uses the word “species” instead of “people.” I admire this choice because what he is doing here with this simple word choice is very smart. By referring to everyone else as a species he is purposefully separating himself from them, emphasizing that he is different from them. However, he goes back to using the word “people” later on when he says “People have no sense of humor, they are so fucking serious about themselves.”
I enjoyed the images that Bukowski used throughout the piece. Specifically I like the images of dust and sand: “They were mostly dust in my mouth, sand in my mind.” I can’t think of a better way of describing how uninteresting an uninteresting book can be—I wonder what he would have to say about the Twilight series.