And I sat and I sat and I thought
Can this be my dirty man ?
He writes a dirty column and dirty stories
He’s got a dirty mind and a dirty house
……too good to be true
There must be a catch somewhere
I flushed the toilet and went back to see.
— Linda King
1970 in «Me And Your Sometimes Love Poems»
There are many books about Charles Bukowski, among whom two of them (written by two of his women) stand out.
There is Linda King (raised in the small Mormon town of Boulder, Utah) in whom he met his match. She got featured in «Women» (1978) as the leading character, Lydia Vance. King – a young poet and sculptor – lived in Los Angeles during the 1970’s at the beginning of the Women’s Liberation movement where she met Bukowski and offered to do a sculpture of his head. While sculpting his acne scarred face, he seduced her with his letters and writing. They fell in love. In 2012 her book «Loving and Hating Charles Bukowski» came out, a good glance at Bukowski from the other side of the mirror. It is raw, it is rough and an uncompromising account of their five–year on and off relationship.
And there is «Charles Bukowski’s Scarlet» – a Memoir by Pamela «Cupcakes» Wood: In the 70’s Wood was Bukowski’s lover for two years – she was «Tammie» in his novel «Women» and he dedicated his volume of love poems called «Scarlet» (1976) to her. She first met Bukowski in 1975 when she and her friend Georgia Peckham were out late at night celebrating Georgia’s birthday. Inspired by her friend’s love of Bukowski’s writing she rang him from a public phone booth and Bukowski invited them around. That night began two years of involvement in Bukowski’s life.
«Cupcake» tells her story
Bukowski and his literary lovers are good examples of this sexist, sick and insane world. His inexplicable appeal to women is part of the madness and myth that surrounds him. And King’s memoir takes one deeper into the tragic situation of mankind towards understanding and transformation: Here’s what Bukowski looked like when he fell in love!
Loving and hating Charles Bukowski will never be the same.