At times in his life, Charles Bukowski may have lived like the dissolute Hank Chinaski, his alcoholic protagonist in post office: A Novel, Factotum, Women: A Novel, and HAM ON RYE. But in reading HoR, the quality that communicated most clearly to this reader was Buk's immense discipline. There's no self-indulgence, anywhere, in this book. There's no material, anywhere, that doesn't immediately contribute to the development of Hank's character. This discipline means that HoR has absolutely zero bloat. There's not a word that's wasted.

HoR has 58 chapters, few longer than five pages. It begins with Hank's first memory and then gradually moves from his childhood, through his adolescence, and to his young manhood, with each chapter developing some new aspect of Hank's personality and life. The amazing thing is that the perceptions never get ahead of Hank's age, with the boyish Hank seeing boyish issues, the adolescent Hank showing how his upbringing and experiences affected his teenage outlook, and so on.

This discipline makes HoR a remarkable reading experience. In one chapter, you can see Bukowski, say, add a little depth to the adolescent mentality of Hank. In the next, he adds a little breadth. In fact, Buk's control in each chapter is so tight that the chapters lend themselves perfectly to capsule summations. In my marginalia, for example, I find: Hank wins a medal but declines to pursue success (chapter 41); head games during and after baseball confirm the funny Hank's sense of failure (42); bold Hank humbled by his failed seduction of his only friend's mother (43). What am I saying? In every chapter, Buk shows something new about Hank. This is character that is always developing.

Furthermore, Buk always stays within voice--not an easy task for an author taking a character through his formative years. Here's that voice at the start of Chapter 44, with Hank, a high school senior, considering his future.

"I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn't particularly want money. I didn't know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out, someplace where one didn't have to do anything. The thought of being something didn't only appall me, it sickened me. ...To get married, to have children, to get trapped in the family structure. To go someplace to work every day and to return. It was impossible. ...was a man borne just to endure those things and then die? I would rather be a dishwasher, return alone to a tiny room, and drink myself to sleep."

One final point: In Chapter 52, Hank's father throws him out (he's enraged his son is writing short stories) and Hank is made to begin his adult life. In this and subsequent chapters, Hank's shenanigans morph from sad but hilarious contrariness to something darker, as the masterful Bukowski clarifies the underlying story he's been telling.

"Ham on Rye" was my first introduction to the writing of Charles Bukowski, and tells the story of his alter-ego, Henry Chinaski. It is semi-autobiographical, so when reading, it is best to approach the entire book as fiction, rather than trying to attribute events in the book with the real life of Bukowski. It begins with Chinaski's youth during the Great Depression, and relates his struggles with social and familial acceptance from elementary school through college. The book focuses on his relationship with poor relationship with his parents and a puzzling general disdain for his peers. One of the reasons this book is so fascinating is because it is written in a seemingly crude and blunt prose, detailing a hard life surrounded by fighting, drinking, and women. It shows a culture where daily fights were a necessary part of life and brings forward an image much like we would consider our lives to be like if we lived back in the Old West, and were forced to challenge a man for cheating at cards or looking at you funny.

With my air-conditioned office, feather bed, and teeth whitening strips, I can't imagine I would ever have survived in Chinaski's world, so it's enjoyable to experience it from the safety of Bukowski's novel. Although I mentioned a "crude" writing style, that should not be confused with poor writing. Bukowski's to-the-point style makes for an extremely easy read that I was able to finish in a few hours, unlike the usuals novels that I pore over for weeks to get through. Even though Chinaski is portrayed as a "tough guy," Bukowski does not shy away from detailing all of his faults as well, which describe a young man filled with self doubt and a lack of ambition. While I'm not sure how Ham on Rye would fare with female audiences, I highly recommend it for males in the 15-35 age range.

To read Bukowski's novels about Pinaski chronologically, follow this order:

Ham on Rye: A Novel - Early life, elementary school to college
Factotum - Young adulthood, World War II era
post office: A Novel - Later years, 1952 - 1969
Women: A Novel - Later years, as a poet and writer
Hollywood - Dealing with Chinaski's later life as a screenwriter

I read this book, and I loved it. It's from this novel that I had to read four or five more Bukowski novels, and I wasn't disappointed. This book is brilliance. I really loved it.

So asks (p. 245) Bukowski's alter ego, Henry Chinaski, as this gripping romansbildung draws to a conclusion. The rather mysteriously-titled Ham on Rye is undoubtedly Bukowski's finest and most obviously autobiographical novel. In it, he gives us a variably chilling, pathetic, hilarious, and defiant portrait of Chinaski's first 20 years, taking us right up to the attack on Pearl Harbor and Chinaski on his way to the Skid Row existence brutally chronicled in Factotum, the second volume in the Chinaski series.

There's something heart-wrenching in Bukowski's description of the early years of his anti-hero Chinaski. A loser father who vents his self-hatred by sadistically beating his son; a spineless mother who can't stand up for either herself or her son--and whom Chinaski loves as little as he does his father; a sometimes comic assortment of misfit schoolmates who attach themselves to a reluctant Chinaski; boring, unrewarding, and mind-killing classes in primary, middle, and high schools; the wondrous discovery of books in the public library; the horrors of out-of-control acne, so like leprosy in both appearance and social consequences; the initial vagueries and eventually fires of pubescent longing; the (d)evolution of an abused and lonely boy into a hard-drinking, hot-tempered, bullying youth; and the beginning of a series of one dead-end job after another: these are the moments in Henry Chinaski's life captured in the novel. It's little wonder that by the story's midpoint, Chinaski is a young cynic, disgusted with the "proper" socially successful world to which his parents aspire. As he tells us (p. 174),

'The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left. At the age of 25 most people were finished. A whole god-damned nation of a--holes driving automobiles, eating, having babies, doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidate who reminded them most of themselves.'

Bukowski's brilliant, disturbing novel is a chronicle of hope defeated and tenderness abused. By novel's end, Henry Chinaski has turned from a lovable, mistreated child into a genuinely unlikeable lost soul. To a certain extent, in later novels and in real life, both Chinaski and Bukowski will save themselves through art. But the climb up from the hellish youth and adolescence chronicled here will be long and difficult.

Charles Bukowski's Ham on Rye details the early childhood of his fictional alter-ego Henry Chinaski through his teen years up until the attack on Pearl Harbor. A majority of the novel finds Chinaski growing up in the depression-laded lower-middle class part of Los Angeles, and details his discoveries of alcohol, women, authors, and writing. What is most likely an autobiographical fueled novel, Ham on Rye ends up becoming a startlingly poignant piece of literature, much like many of Bukowski's novels. The reader becomes impassioned with Chinaski's hard, young life as he discovers and withstands the futility of his own existence, gets into fights with his privilaged schoolmates, and develops an extremely painful case of acne that leaves him physically scarred. Though we don't always feel sorry for Chinaski as his actions make him labeled a "truly ugly person", there's no denying that Ham on Rye is a stunningly powerful and bleak portrait of the life Bukowski himself lived. Not as quintessential as Post Office of Factotum, but an essential piece of Bukowski's work nonetheless.

If there is a novel, this is it. Full of autobiografy, wit, humor and despair.

amazing says it all. very few people can describe the world and its charecters like bukowski.

Bukowski is what Nietzcshe referred to as a chandala... he was ugly, he was abused and mistreated, he was a little mean, he was a little perverse, and he suffered and struggled a lot.

But he did it well and documented it well-- even the chandala need their documentarians, historians and champions...

In any event, one thing people shouldn't confuse is that they probably would not want to be charles bukoswki unless it was their lot in life. As with many authors, Bukowski gets to take his shabby life and become a sympathetic protagonist.

It is not a bad thing to examine the lower depths as long as one doesn't forget there are also human heights that are attainable for some people.--not for people like Bukowski -- but for other types.

Bukowski's choice of cuisine says it all-- Bukowski is Ham on Rye, perhaps with a piece of stale swiss cheese and 3 day old potato salad on the side. Bukowski is every 10th guy at the wall mart -- who just also happened to be a writer with some insight into his life.-- perhaps it made it bearable for him. I hope so.

A few days before my fifteenth birthday, I picked up this book and my life was changed forever. I remember tearing through the parts describing the intense boils on his face and the way people treated him. I loved the part about the boy whacking off to his attractive teacher beneath his desk. I loved his drunken antics and the way he behaves: completely and totally in the moment. Everything in this book is so beautiful. This and Women are two of the best books I have ever read. His poetry is great as well. I strongly reccomend everything he has ever written.

A collection of short story style chapters that follows the miserable life of Henry Chinaski, a boy with skin boils so deep they need to be lanced regularly at the local clinic with a drill.
It makes you want to laugh, it makes you want to cry, sometimes it makes you want to throw the book away with revulsion. But despite this, it is definately a page turner, and one of the best books I have ever read.

Like all Bukowski's work, Ham on Rye is easily and quickly read. This doesn't mean the book lacks substance. As a great writer, and I believe he qualifies to be called this, he makes writing seem simple. Like Hemingway, Carver, and other great writers did and some still do. It's a pleasure to read a pure artist when he's at the top of his game. Ham on Rye is an important and weighty book. It provides insight into the mind of Bukowski which may help the reader when he or she tackles other Bukowski works, such as his short stories. I'm not sure but I could have used some context on Bukowski when, as a youngster, I read Tales of Ordinary Madness. Now to be sure, I question the veracity of some parts of Ham on Rye, but that didn't deter me. Bukowski often embelishes, which is OK, he's a writer of fiction. If you have a chance, you should read this book.

I won't bore you telling you how good this book is. I will let the other reviews do that.

What I will tell you is that I am 33 years old and have not read a novel since high school. Not because I don't enjoy reading, but because I couldn't find an author worth investing my time into. The search is over. I read this book in 3 days. Then I bought Post Office and Factotum. Read both of those in a week. I have Women and Notes of a Dirty Old Man on order. I can't get enough.

Man, Bukowski had some life. Growing up under an abusive psychotic father and a mother who was pretty worthless as a support, Bukowski had to fend for himself. He was sort of a bully at school, he develops a tough shell, a psychological as well as physical callousness that is demonstrated in his reactions to other people. This had me laughing out loud on the subway rides to and from work. The dark humor is enough to brighten your otherwise dull and uninspired day. His misery is bitter, how he deals with with it through the alter-ego Chinaski is hilarious. And sooner or later you begin to sympathize with a poetic and tragic anti-hero. You are reminded of the fact that ugliness is more of a mental thing than a physical thing.

I was hoping I'd like this book, and I was not one bit disappointed! It's both funny & sad, direct yet thoughtful, and compellingly readable. I read the last 160 pages in one sitting, couldn't put it down. It made me laugh and it made me cry, but Bukowski never gets melodramatic.

I'd seen reviewers here say things like, "Bukowski's just an alcoholic with a typewriter," but that is complete BS. His writing style is so direct and honest, so sober (ironically!) that it might SEEM simple to write like he does, but if that's that case, then why have I read so few books as good as this one? I saw another reviewer claim that this book has a lot of unrealistic bragging, specifically about a boxing incident. That reviewer is the one who exaggerated things, Bukowksi seems to stick up for himself when needed, but he also admits getting his butt kicked when it happens. Most of the time Bukowski is the loser, and he talks about feeling like an outcast.

I can barely wait to read all of Bukowksi's other novels. What a great book. I'm so glad I came across the documentary about him, _Born Into This_--a great film about a great writer! Definitely check this book out.

I was hoping I'd like this book, and I was not one bit disappointed! It's both funny & sad, direct yet thoughtful, and compellingly readable. I read the last 160 pages in one sitting, couldn't put it down. It made me laugh and it made me cry, but Bukowski never gets melodramatic.

I'd seen reviewers here say things like, "Bukowski's just an alcoholic with a typewriter," but that is complete BS. His writing style is so direct and honest, so sober (ironically!) that it might SEEM simple to write like he does, but if that's that case, then why have I read so few books as good as this one? I saw another reviewer claim that this book has a lot of unrealistic bragging, specifically about a boxing incident. That reviewer is the one who exaggerated things, Bukowksi seems to stick up for himself when needed, but he also admits getting his butt kicked when it happens. Most of the time Bukowski is the loser, and he talks about feeling like an outcast.

I can barely wait to read all of Bukowksi's other novels. What a great book. I'm so glad I came across the documentary about him, _Born Into This_--a great film about a great writer! Definitely check this book out.

The reviewer Robin Friedman a couple of reviews back did an excellent job in describing this book without giving away too many important details. There is no use telling you all what the story is about start to finish. That's what reading the novel is all about. Anyway, if you like Bukowski you've already read this and more than likely adore this novel. Ergo, this review is suited more for those who have never read a Bukowski novel (a couple of poems don't count). If you read this you need to be the type of person who doesn't take yourself and the world too seriously. Otherwise, odds are you will be disgusted with Bukowski as a whole and dislike all of his novels. Because unlike anyone I have ever read Bukowski is what he writes! And what he writes about isn't pretty, it isn't politicly correct, it isn't nice, it isn't tasteful or tactful, it isn't informative, it doesn't have meaning, etc... do I need to say more? What it is, is real and gritty and funny and raw and honest and brave. This guy can write like nobody's business and as much as you need to hate and pity him you just can't help but like and admire him at the same time. The fact that Bukowski is so much more popular in Europe than he is in his home country would make for great coffee house debate (not that I ever have or as fun as it sounds ever will). Perhaps his poking fun at the American way of life, that it wasn't all Norman Rockwell, Howdy Doody, Ozzie & Harriet bull.... like it tried to portray itself back then (many may argue that it still does today) in the early days of TV, radio, newspapers, etc... Perhaps people in Europe see something romantic about an iconoclastic writer that doesn't have the same value system as the average Capitalist(myself included). The good, old red blooded American automaton marching off dutifully to work everyday. Perhaps in Europe they aren't as uptight with sex or politically correctness as the vapid Religious Right and the pretentious libs in this country are. I don't really know, I just know that I really like this guy warts and all. Forgive me father, for I have sinned.

I have been returning to the work of Charles Bukowski (1920 -- 1994) after reading his novel "Factotum" and watching the movie based upon it. Bukowski's novel "Ham on Rye" (1982) is a coming-of age novel in that it tells the story of Bukowski's protagonist, Henry Chinaski, from his birth to his young manhood, ending with the attack on Pearl Harbor. ("Factotum", written in 1978 covers the next period of Chinaski's life, after he has been rejected for the draft and wanders from city to city in search of work.) Chinaski is based loosely on Bukowski's own life; but "Ham on Rye" and Bukowski's other novels are, after all, works of fiction and should be read as such.

The scene of "Ham on Rye" is Los Angeles during the Great Depression, particularly the lower middle-class homes in which Chinaski grows up, as families struggle to survive and to escape from poverty. Bukowski is at his best in describing dingy homes, streets, schools, and desperate people.

But "Ham on Rye" is a coming-of-age book told with irony and twists. It seemingly mocks the story of self-discovery and self-awakening common to these distinctively American books, but in the end I think it follows the pattern of a coming-of-age story in spite of itself. Most American coming-of-age books recount the life of a young person and end when that person comes to some crisis which he meets and, thus, attains a degree of understanding of himself which he carries through life. Bukowski's book tells the story of an unhappy childhood, as Chinaski is subjected to an overbearing father and frequent beatings. In addition, as an early adolescent, Chinaski develops a terrible case of acne which exacerbates his tendency to aloneness as well as his anger and rebeliousness. After graduating from high school, Chinaski loses a menial job, enrolls in a Junior College, and begins to drink heavily. He is well on the way to a life of alcoholism, fighting, wandering, and gambling that is detailed in chronologically later novels of Chinaski's life, such as "Factotum" or "Women".

Yet for all its rawness and Chinaski's sense of failure and purposelessness, the book conveys a sense of promise. The book shows a young Chinaski forming the desire to be a writer, and beginning to work at his craft and respond to his experiences in a manner that, years later, would result in "Ham on Rye" and in Bukowski's other works of fiction and poetry. Some of the best moments in "Ham on Rye" show the adolescent Chinaski sitting alone in the Los Angeles Public Library and ultimately discovering authors, including D.H. Lawrence, Upton Sinclair, and Sinclair Lewis, who speak to him. As had many before him, Chinaski learns that projecting oneself into artistic creation offers a form of release from the difficulties of everyday life. Chinaski writes: "Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you." (p. 152) These words reflect the theme of "Ham on Rye" and, I think, of Bukowski's work as a whole.

Similarly while suffering from his acute acne, Chinaski develops a character a WW I pilot named Baron Von Himmlen, and writes stories of his imagined adventures. Chinaski writes: "it made me feel good to write about the Baron. A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be". (p. 168)

"Ham and Rye" is the story of how a young man found himself in adulthood leading a life of alcoholism, poverty, and loneliness, with no ambition and seemingly few prospects. The book is full of adolescent sexual frustration, dysfunctional families, rawness, vulgarity, and failure. It also includes some funny scenes. The story is told in a sharp, crude, no-nonsense style. But together with all the outward failure and the shocking scenes, we see a young Chinaski in the process of attaining his dream and gaining victory over himself after all. In spite of the dead-end vicissitudes of his life, Henry Chinaski perseveres and gradually brings his experiences alive and learns to make something worthwhile of his existence. He learns to reflect upon himself and his life and to describe them without cant or mercy. Henry Chinaski becomes a writer.

Robin Friedman

Bukowski's novels (at least the ones I've read) all put together seem to be one long autobiography. Although this one was written later, it is the begining of the story, his childhood. Therefore I would recommend Ham on Rye as the perfect book to start with. Factotum picks up where Ham on Rye leaves off. Which follows into Post office and then Women. By reading them in this order you can follow Henry Chinaski (the main character) from childhood to old age. I am a big fan of Bukowski's novels although I have nothing in common with Henry Chinaski I completely understand his world-view. He reminds us that no one goes further than those who start at the botttom.

Charles Bukowski is a writer. He's not the type to go to writers clubs, instead he drank, as most good writers do - and a lot of bad ones I suppose. He's dead now, so it's ok to like him.

I was making my way through the lot of his novels - his Novels because I hate poetry - `Postal Service' is his best so far.
What negated `Ham on Rye' in my opinion was his EMPHASIS on just how hard his life was as a child growing up in a loveless household.

Bukowski is a person who values the idea of individualism. It is hard for me to fully respect a man who calls himself an individual and a `tough guy,' who so obviously blames his parents for his attitude towards the world.

Directly after this book I read Celine's `Death on the Installment Plan,' an author recommended by Bukowski as being one of his consistent favorites. I can understand that, because Celine's childhood was much the same; poor, loveless, solitary - in short a joy to read.

Of course `Ham on Rye' is well written, you get a very strong sense of voice and tone from all of his books. He's one of the few authors that are fun to read aloud to yourself because there's a definite beat and rhythm to his narrative process.

Not a bad book, on the grand scheme, but it showed me a side of this man who lived a `hard' life, who takes the easy way out and blames his childhood for being the character that he is.

I've only read two Bukowski books, this and Post Office. After Post Office I was impressed, because Bukowski revealed some v. interesting, funny stories about his job (in ways that todays "Waiting" and other career novels/movies do) and the short chapters made it an easy read. However, after looking up on Amazon what I should read next - it was obvious - Ham on Rye.
It's the book that Holden Caulfield may have written if he had written an autobiography at the age of 50. The way he writes is shooting from the hip - no crap, just as he sees it; even if it means he becomes humiliating in the process. It also makes you realise why Bukoswki was such a bittered and twisted man - and why he turned to drink.
Ham on Rye chronicles "Bukoswki" or, his alter-ego Henry Chinaski, through his first memories, living with an abusive father, through school, where he is an outsider, and into the world of employment - where he see glimpses of Post Office and what is yet to come for Chinaski. It ends when he is in his early twenties.
If you are interested in how artists find their passion, how human beings can be so cruel, how we are our childhoods - then you will love this book. If you have ever felt alone, and wondered if anyone in the world really cares - then this books for you. - Just a warning, Bukoswki isn't an optimist - the exact opposite, some times you may cringe with how depressing he is. But that is why he was such a inovative writer, just like Salinger before him; he didn't believe in hiding his readers from the big bad scary world - he introduced them to it.

For years I sold Bukowski's poetry to sad-looking men and the occasional punk-looking (very young) woman. This was in the 1980s and early 1990s. I never took the stuff seriously. Poetry about hangovers and turds? Give me a break.

But when I was introduced to Russell David Harper's manuscript of BALD -- his own ficitional memoir -- and Miha Mazzini's CARTIER PROJECT, I was forced to dig deeper into this phenomenon. (CARTIER is an eastern European Bukowski, and BALD is an intelligent memoir of hangovers.)

HAM ON RYE was my first real Bukowski venture, and I devoured it. It's a sad and moving work. There's not a single metaphor in it; it's to-the-gut writing straight from the heart. I bought my copy dog-eared and coffee-stained in a sidewalk sale in San Francisco, and I'm not letting it go. However, I'm now afraid of digging deeper into Bukowski out of fear of being disappointed. HAM ON RYE has set my expectations unreasonably high.

While I understand that this will probably not becoming required reading - I think most pass over this incredible work without giving it much thought. Charles Bukowski has given us an extraordinary diagnosis of the human condition through a look back at his own life. Though claiming to be an apolitical figure, Charles sees the crap of life like a flashlight through pantyhose... easily.

For anyone interested in other works - this is a gateway drug. It helps to see who the man is (even if it is amplified a bit). Beware, he is an addictive author... maybe that's why he is the most shop-lifted author on the planet.

Charles Bukowski has lived harder than you. Or anyone you know. This book desribes his early life in a thinly veiled autobiography.

You can't have a better introduction to Bukowski's writing. By reading this book, you'll get an introduction to the hilarious irony of his day-to-day situations, the piercing sadness of his struggle, and the amazing strength he shows in everything he does.

This book isn't for the half-hearted or the meek. Anyone who's ever tried harder only to have their lot get worse can understand what's happening here. Don't be judgemental; Bukowski really is just a drunk with a typewriter, but he writes better than any high school composition teacher.

I have to say I was a bit disappointed with Bukowski's autobiography. It lacked the humor and immediacy of his other writings. Not sure why he felt the need to lay out his life in such explicit terms, especially since his books generally tend to be autobiographical. He is at his best in books like Post Office, which have a James Thurber quality, albeit a bit raunchier in his take on life. Still, it is his poetry and short stories that stand out. Bukowski had a way of capturing those odd moments like no one else, even when delving into the seemier aspects of his life. But that ability was sorely lacking in this book.