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		<TitleText>More Notes of a Dirty Old Man</TitleText>
		
		<Subtitle>The Uncollected Columns</Subtitle>
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		<PersonNameInverted>Bukowski, Charles</PersonNameInverted> 
		<NamesBeforeKey>Charles</NamesBeforeKey> 
		<KeyNames>Bukowski</KeyNames> 
		<BiographicalNote>&lt;p&gt;Charles Bukowski was born in Andernach, Germany on August 16, 1920, the only child of an American soldier and a German mother. At the age of three, he came with his family to the United States and grew up in Los Angeles. He attended Los Angeles City College from 1939 to 1941, then left school and moved to New York City to become a writer. His lack of publishing success at this time caused him to give up writing in 1946 and spurred a ten-year stint of heavy drinking. After he developed a bleeding ulcer, he decided to take up writing again. He worked a wide range of jobs to support his writing, including dishwasher, truck driver and loader, mail carrier, guard, gas station attendant, stock boy, warehouse worker, shipping clerk, post office clerk, parking lot attendant, Red Cross orderly, and elevator operator. He also worked in a dog biscuit factory, a slaughterhouse, a cake and cookie factory, and he hung posters in New York City subways.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bukowski published his first story when he was twenty-four and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. His first book of poetry was published in 1959; he went on to publish more than forty-five books of poetry and prose, including &lt;em&gt;Pulp&lt;/em&gt; (Black Sparrow, 1994), &lt;em&gt;Screams from the Balcony: Selected Letters 1960-1970&lt;/em&gt; (1993), and &lt;em&gt;The Last Night of the Earth Poems&lt;/em&gt; (1992). He died of leukemia in San Pedro on March 9, 1994.&lt;/p&gt;</BiographicalNote>
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		<PersonNameInverted>Calonne, David Stephen</PersonNameInverted> 
		<NamesBeforeKey>David Stephen</NamesBeforeKey> 
		<KeyNames>Calonne</KeyNames> 
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	<NumberOfPages>248</NumberOfPages> 
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		<SubjectHeadingText> Bukowski; essays; fiction; humor; los angeles; personal history</SubjectHeadingText>
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		<Text>&lt;P&gt;After toiling in obscurity for years, Charles Bukowski found fame in 1967 with his autobiographical newspaper column, "Notes of a Dirty Old Man," and a book of that name in 1969. He continued writing this column, from its inception in &lt;em&gt;Open City&lt;/em&gt; to its conclusion in &lt;em&gt;High Times&lt;/em&gt;, through the mid-1980s. &lt;em&gt;More &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Notes of a Dirty Old Man &lt;/em&gt; gathers many uncollected gems from the column's 20-year run. These stories and essays haven't been seen in decades, making &lt;em&gt;More&lt;/em&gt; a valuable addition to Bukowski's oeuvre. Filled with his usual obsessions--sex, booze, gambling--&lt;em&gt;More&lt;/em&gt; features Bukowski's offbeat insights into politics and literature, his tortured relationships with women, and his lurid escapades on the poetry circuit. Highlighting his versatility, the book ranges from thinly veiled autobiography to fictional tales of dysfunctional suburbanites, disgraced politicians, and down-and-out sports promoters, climaxing with a long, hilarious adventure among French filmmakers, "My Friend The Gambler," based on his experiences making the movie, &lt;em&gt;Barfly&lt;/em&gt;. From his days at the post office through his later fame, &lt;em&gt;More&lt;/em&gt; follows the entire arc of Bukowski's career.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;P&gt;Edited by Bukowski scholar David Stephen Calonne, &lt;em&gt;More Notes of a Dirty Old Man &lt;/em&gt; features an afterword outlining the history of the column and its effect on the author's creative development.&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
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		<Text>Sequel to his most famous book, "More Notes of a Dirty Old Man" features rare Bukowski columns unseen in decades.</Text>
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		<TextTypeCode>08</TextTypeCode>
		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"He knew the low-life odyssey, the hardships of the ordinary working class men, and wrote about them with more precognition than any of his contemporaries. . . . Bukowski's scabrous and sturdy prose about the social and economic subjugation of the urban underclass is matchless: every word is loaded with experience, a badge of authenticity."&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>Book Me...</TextSourceTitle>
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		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"It's a nice collection that really shows Bukowski's love of telling stories filled with the grime and the filth of life as a normal working man in a concrete jungle."&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>Verbicide Magazine</TextSourceTitle>
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		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"In these pieces, written for the alternative press from 1967 through the mid-'80s, is a Bukowski you might not know-the father taking his seven-year-old daughter to the beach in Santa Monica, where he rescues a homeless man who's been beaten up by thugs. Here's the Bukowski lost in the gender wars, confused and trying to keep his own desire (piggy at times, yes) alive. He wasn't looking for beauty, but he found it now and then. And he was happy writing these columns-as much as a grumpy middle-aged drunk can be."&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>Los Angeles Magazine</TextSourceTitle>
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		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"He's been gone since 1994, but Charles Bukowski continues to fascinate us. His tales of sex, drugs,and booze, and more sex, drugs, and booze, ad infinitum, resonate a lurid energy that grabs our attention and keeps it."&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>SF Weekly</TextSourceTitle>
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		<TextTypeCode>08</TextTypeCode>
		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"To anyone familiar with Bukowski's work, they're more of the good stuff -- essays on pure desire that demonstrate his lust for the physical world. And of course, they're shot through with Bukowski's admirable denial of a higher meaning to his work -- to an earnest interviewer, he writes, 'When I die they can take my work and wipe a cat's ass with it. It will be of no earthly use to me.'"&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>LA Weekly</TextSourceTitle>
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		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"Proving that misanthropic and humanitarian are two sides of the same tarnished coin and that stagnation and metamorphosis are equally related, this collection arcs subtly from the banal side of addiction to the most extreme forms of love and hate. Bukowski's prose is still relevant, still shocking, still transcendent."&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>Publishers Weekly, August 1, 2011</TextSourceTitle>
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		<TextTypeCode>08</TextTypeCode>
		<Text>&lt;p&gt;"In another installment of his essays and ramblings, City Lights press have surely come up with a winner.&amp;#160;These are essentially Bukowski's articles for John Bryan's &lt;em&gt;Open City Press&lt;/em&gt;, for &lt;em&gt;Nola Express&lt;/em&gt;, for the &lt;em&gt;Los Angeles Free Press&lt;/em&gt;. His early reputation, as a cult writer around Los Angeles, is partially built upon these iconoclastic columns where they gave him cart blanche to write whatever came into his head, and he invariably did just that. Even today some of his articles come across as quite shocking after all these years."&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;</Text>
		<TextSourceTitle>Beat Scene Magazine</TextSourceTitle>
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