Author: Charles Bukowski
Page Count/Review Word Count: 182
Pulp was short, sweet, and a hell of a lot of fun. In fact, the only criticism that I can think of is that Bukowski didn’t write more stuff like this, but then he didn’t get a chance – it was one of his final works, which makes parts of it more poignant than you might expect from him.
Loosely speaking, it’s a gritty detective novel that follows a P.I. called Nicky Belane as he investigates a number of unlikely cases for even more unlikely clients. It’s odd, because the mysteries themselves almost form a background for Bukowski to play with character and to philosophise on some of the deeper mysteries of life and the universe.
For me, it’s a unique take on a genre that I love but don’t read enough of, and so it was a pleasure to power through it. I read it in less than a day and it barely touched the sides, but it did leave a pleasant aftertaste. Read it.