collection of short stories south of no north , along with the reissue of a dirty old notebook (which yielded ten thousand U.S. dollars in advance from City Lights) marked the first important turning point in the career of Charles Bukowski. The outsider, incomprehensible and ill-tempered, began to be recognized for a style, messy and iconoclastic as long as you want, but still unique. Although all (the readings public increasingly crowded, checks, editorial proposals) the Buk, as reiterate often than not, with immaculate consistency, position insisted on the margins of society, as he wrote in A real man , a tales of the most intense and punchy south of no north : "As anyone can tell, I'm not a good man. It 's a word I do not know. I have always admired the villain, the outlaw, the son of a bitch. I do not like the good guys with short hair tie and the good place. I like desperate men, men with broken inside the brain broken, the men who broke. I'm interested. They are full of surprises and explosions. I also like sluts, whores drunk with a mouth full of curses with his socks and his face contorted by soft mascara. I am most interested in the perverts that the saints. I can relax with bums because I too am a bum. I do not like laws, morals, religions, rules. I do not like me to be molded by society. " Like him, all the seed of his picaresque characters caught twilight existence in those areas where it is difficult to understand, to use his words, where you went wrong and where did it go straight. Always nailed to the platforms or work impossible when "we were tired and want to stop and then we got tired so much that we forgot to stop, and the minutes never ended and we lived forever in a minute, hopeless, hopeless, trapped, too twisted to give up and no place to if you get stopped. " Given these coordinates, every story is a microcosm in itself where the case history and hug each other in a chaotic way of writing the verbiage Bukoswki Charles admitted that, with his typical candor and honest to have the "brain in a tumult against life and destiny. " The unique and highly personal stream of consciousness tales of South of the North is no exception with tragicomic story of a Viet Cong flag cong where the ineffable Buk, telling a rape, in one fell swoop puts to shame all the hippie culture. Recalling that, like everyone else, also had to accept their fate and be the face of a nation, in the words of Buk, "cocks acids, as they say, this is America. We did not want a lot but could not get even the little that we wanted. Cocks acids. without malice, and with the usual amused grin on his face, south of no north is the glorification of outlaws and a sleeve, all outsiders.
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