This time I chose a quote from the story “Doing Time With Public Enemy No. 1”; a short story about how Bukowski was wrongfully put in prison. The quote I chose is:
“It was a Saturday afternoon. From my cell window I could see the people walking along. How lucky they were! Across the street there was a record shop. A microphone played music toward me. every thing seemed so free and easy out there. I stood there trying to figure what I had done. I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse.”
I chose this quote because, like last time, I felt that not only was it significant to the story but I feel as if it is significant to his life. He was put in prison for what was thought to be dodging the draft; however, there was just a mix up of addresses when he moved and never received documents. The FBI showed up at his apartment and put him in prison until they could prove that he wasn’t guilty of it.
While Bukowski was in prison, he did what he could to make the best of it for himself- he got along with his cellmate, played games, and gambled for money to buy good dinners from the cook. When he eventually was let out of prison and turned to a psychologist, the psychologist was able to determine on his own that Bukowski shouldn’t go to war and he was set free. The rest of his life was spent traveling and living in different locations, even though he frequently returned to Los Angeles. I wonder if his imprisonment made him realize how much he appreciated his freedom, and if that contributed to his frequent moving.
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