As I approach the end of Hollywood by Bukowski, I look back in retrospect at the events Bukowski’s alter-ego, Henry Chinaski, lived through while writing his first screenplay and having it adapted into a movie. I have come to realize that I will miss the experience of reading this for the first time. Although it hasn’t become my favorite book, there is this aspect of it that I really identify with. I can’t exactly put my finger on it. Maybe it is how Bukowski incorporates film into this narrative, or his passion for writing, or how real the characters feel. I don’t know. All I do know is that I am glad this was my first impression of him. To be quite honest, I was expecting this to be very politically incorrect and extremely explicit, since he is known for his misogynistic, graphic content. However, I was pleasantly surprised. I think adding those elements would make it excessive and too contrarian-like.
Overall, I would understand if somebody else gave Hollywood a bad review, but I enjoyed it because it resonated with me and I liked the topics it included in its plot. This will be the first of many Bukowskis for me.