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Dan Fante -
A Gin Pissing, Raw Meat, Dual Carburettor V-8 Son-of-a-Bitch from Los Angeles.
Dan Fante knows a thing or two about surviving America.
If you like your prose vodka-soaked, soulful and bleeding on the page, then Fante is your man.
He has lived a life that
would kill most people —acute alcoholism and drug use, poverty, divorce, suicide attempts, therapy - yet has survived
to pick up the pen and tell the tale. Dan Fante isnt some two-bit, woe-is-me tortured writer, this is the real deal.
His words cut through the whole sorry façade, make you feel alive, make you want to smash up the room.
His word tears each page a new arsehole. Here is a writer whose work is immediate, outlandish and as downright sick and
self-obsessed as any musician, and all the better for it; a writer whose works stand alongside Celine, Hubert Selby Jr and
Knut Hamsun as modern confessionals from the gutter.
To Mark
Walk with only words
and books
as your friend
dream the dreams of deviant dead writer saints
who
coming before you
drowned the pain of their purest heart
in vats of gin
like a flailing
unloved cat
Embrace selfishness
and joblessness
smoke millions of unfiltered cigarettes
and glue your ass hopelessly
to the evilest drunken crack whore
who'd trade your balls in a New York instant
for the guy at the end of the bar
with the pitted face
and
a fifty dollar bill
Do not be courageous
remember that all men are fools
and liars
soulless captives of their own blood-stained necessity
and forgive nothing
Then maybe one day
like me
your feet aching and your skull raw from last night's festivity
you'll kick over a box
or turn a page
and find yourself face to face
with
the blurry eyes of God.
Go to Corksucker
Dan Fante
A Gin Pissing, Raw Meat, Dual Carburettor V-8 Son-of-a-Bitch from Los Angeles.
Wrecking Ball Press
ISBN 1-903110-07-6
