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Matthew's Reviews > Ham on Rye
Ham on Rye
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It is true that Ham on Rye lacks a serious plot. It is also true that Mr. Bukowski writes in a crude, whiskey soaked style. However, the novel makes up for its deficiencies with a well-honed theme on the bullshit realities of middle-class existence and the ugly truth of how our society deals with those who reject that path. Such a novel should necessarily cause the reader to taste a tinge of bile in his or her throat. If you don't finish the book weary and angry, then you missed the point. As to the comments below that disparage Mr. Bukowski as a mean-spirited asshole, I ask you to consider four possibilities: 1) you misread his skid row saintliness as something distasteful; 2) you forget that Mr. Bukowski wrote a novel, not a memoir; 3) you judge his offensive comments in a vacuum instead of its time and place; or 4) you are comfortable with the mediocrity shit can of existence that he laments.
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Reading Progress
August 17, 2007
– Shelved
Started Reading
November 1, 2007
–
Finished Reading
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Great review man.
Awesome review. Hit the nail right in the head.
I haven't even finished reading it. But as you say there clearly isn't a plot. However, your view on the book from what I've read so far is the best analyzation of Ham On Rye.
When I finished the book I felt sympathetic toward Chinaski. At the end of the book you could tell that he had a soft side, after paying that arcade game with the boy. You could also see that he was just a little lost. His acne was reeking havoc on his social life and all his "friends" were people he didn't like. Yes, the book did not have a definite plot but that is because of that fact that it was written like a coming-of-age/memoir. Moment after moment happened with out a goal or plot to go after, much like real life. This book was raw because it showed real life. Most authors end their book with a happy ending but Bukowsi gave this a real life ending to show that ones life can start and end badly (even though Chinaski didn't die).
I've been reading bukowski since I was 14. In my time on this earth I have only met a few people to be fans of him and have actually read more than one of his books. I feel like there are two kinds of Bukowski fans: 1.) likes the crudeness, the dirty language. 2.) enjoys him for the deep painful scope of his work, along with the incredible gems of poetry and writing like the poem "Blue Bird" that reveal a deeply sensitive person.
Great fucking review.
Great review. The best rebuttal to the disparaging assessments of Bukowski below is "the ugly truth of how our society deals with those who reject that path."
A few years ago, in a film class, we watched Bar Fly, (which I had already seen), and peoples comments were, "I don't get it" or "what a low-life scum".
Bukowski lived his life the way he wanted. Not by anyone elses ideals. Anyone who lives their life according to someone elses ideas isn't really living.