On Cats

Charles Bukowski

• Éditeur: Ecco
• Année: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780062396013
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: Literary Letters

A raw and tenderly funny look at the human-cat relationship, from one of our most treasured and transgressive writers.

"The cat is the beautiful devil."

Felines touched a vulnerable spot in Charles Bukowski's crusty soul. For the writer, there was something majestic and elemental about these inscrutable creatures he admired, sentient beings whose searing gaze could penetrate deep into our being. Bukowski considered cats to be unique forces of nature, elusive emissaries of beauty and love.

On Cats offers Bukowski's musings on these beloved animals and their toughness and resiliency. He honors them as fighters, hunters, survivors who command awe and respect as they grip tightly onto the world around them: "A cat is only ITSELF, representative of the strong forces of life that won't let go."

Funny, moving, tough, and caring, On Cats brings together the acclaimed writer's reflections on these animals he so admired. Bukowski's cats are fierce and demanding—he captures them stalking their prey; crawling across his typewritten pages; waking him up with claws across the face. But they are also affectionate and giving, sources of inspiration and gentle, insistent care.

Poignant yet free of treacle, On Cats is an illuminating portrait of this one-of-a-kind artist and his unique view of the world, witnessed through his relationship with the animals he considered his most profound teachers.

Contents

1. Sources
2. Acknowledgments
3. About the Authors
4. Also by Charles Bukowski
5. Credits
6. Copyright
7. About the Publisher

Beeker

All the eating places were closed at that time of the night and it was a long ride into town. I couldn’t take him back to my room, so I had to take a chance on Millie. She always had plenty of food. At any rate, she always had cheese.

I was right. She made us cheese sandwiches with coffee. The cat knew me and leaped into my lap.

I put the cat on the floor.

“Watch, Mr. Burnett,” I said.

“Shake hands!” I said to the cat. “Shake hands!”

The cat just sat there.

“That’s funny, it always used to do it,” I said. “Shake hands!”

I remembered Shipkey had told Mr. Burnett that I talked to birds.

“Come on now! Shake hands!”

I began to feel foolish.

“Come on! Shake hands!”

I put my head right down by the cat’s head and put everything I had into it.

“Shake hands!”

The cat just sat there.

I went back to my chair and picked up my cheese sandwich.

“Cats are funny animals, Mr. Burnett. You can never tell. Millie, put on Tchaikovsky’s 6th for Mr. Burnett.”

We listened to the music. Millie came over and sat in my lap. She just had on a negligee. She dropped down against me. I put my sandwich to one side.

“I want you to notice,” I said to Mr. Burnett, “the section which brings forth the marching movement in this symphony. I think it’s one of the most beautiful movements in all music. And besides its beauty and force, its structure is perfect. You can feel intelligence at work.”

The cat jumped up into the lap of the man with the goatee. Millie laid her cheek against mine, put a hand on my chest. “Where ya been, baby boy? Millie’s missed ya, ya know.”

The record ended and the man with the goatee took the cat off his lap, got up and turned the record over. He should have found record #2 in the album. By turning it over we would get the climax rather early. I didn’t say anything, though, and we listened to it end.

“How did you like it?” I asked.

“Fine! J...