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Dreams from Bunker Hill by John Fante
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Dreams from Bunker Hill (original 1982; edition 2002)

by John Fante

Series: Bandini (4)

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504948,164 (3.81)11
My first collision with fame was hardly memorable. I was a busboy at Marx's Deli. The year was 1934. The place was Third and Hill, Los Angeles. I was twenty-one years old, living in a world bounded on the west by Bunker Hill, on the east by Los Angeles Street, on the south by Pershing Square, and on the north by Civic Center. I was a busboy nonpareil, with great verve and style for the profession, and though I was dreadfully underpaid (one dollar a day plus meals) I attracted considerable attention as I whirled from table to table, balancing a tray on one hand, and eliciting smiles from my customers. I had something else beside a waiter's skill to offer my patrons, for I was also a writer.… (more)
Member:TLievens
Title:Dreams from Bunker Hill
Authors:John Fante
Info:Harper Perennial (2002), Editie: Later printing, Paperback, 152 pagina's
Collections:Gelezen, Your library
Rating:****
Tags:None

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Dreams from Bunker Hill by John Fante (1982)

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English (4)  Italian (2)  French (2)  Spanish (1)  All languages (9)
Showing 4 of 4
This book was published in 1979, after he had dictated the book to his wife because of his blindness brought on by diabetes. Some have referred to John Fante as the “missing link” between the Lost Generation and the Beats. Others have written that Fante used his character Arturo Bandini as a way to explore his uncontrollable lust for the most beautiful women, the women he mostly failed to have successful relationships with. Fante’s books do have a unique place in the world of LA literature. His writing style is brief and to the point, a bit like Hemingway. The street tales of Arturo are similar, but the heart of the character is very special.

I find myself down to only one other Fante book, and then my addiction to his writing will force me to go on the hunt for more. ( )
  jphamilton | May 29, 2021 |
I first read this book and most Fante books some 20-25 years ago and haven't picked any up since. Until now. And I have no idea why I waited so long. It didn't take very long for me to remember why I loved Fante so much and why he was Bukowski's favorite writer. The man's a great writer and a great Angelino. No New York literary pretension here, thank you. Real, rough, crass words, phrases, characters, ideas, plots for the masses, stuff that everyone can like, understand, and hopefully identify with. This is the fourth and final Arturo Bandini book. Bandini is freaking hilarious! He's emotionally stilted, lives life with his emotions on his sleeve, loves and hates Los Angeles, loves and hates people, sometimes at the same time, is a writer (he thinks), a lapsed Catholic, a good Italian, a son of a loving Italian mother, and a scoundrel. This book carries him from downtown L.A.'s Bunker Hill neighborhood down Wilshire Boulevard to Hollywood, down to San Pedro and Terminal Island, out to Boulder, Colorado to visit his family, and back to L.A. While traveling, he goes from poor to well off to extremely well off, back to normal again, all in one book. He meets bizarre people, like the terrific Duke of Sardinia, who has a wrestling match with the crowd pleasing Richard Lionheart and lives to tell about it -- barely. His partnership with the famous screenwriter who name drops constantly and does virtually no work whatsoever, yet gets all the credit, is also particularly hilarious.

This isn't Fante's best book, but he wrote this as, I believe, his final book, dictated to his wife in his old age while he was blind. And it's quite good. Also, quite short and an easy read. So, pick it up and have a go at it. I'd be surprised if you're disappointed. Definitely recommended. ( )
  scottcholstad | Dec 9, 2015 |
Only the first half of the book shows the kind of colloquial, fast and naked writing style that one can find in the author's previous novels.That writing style that make you feel the rampant energy and endless frustration that runs inside Bandini's heart and mind.
The second half is too sterile, no feeling there. ( )
  emed0s | Feb 5, 2014 |
Another Fante. I can't help it, I love this man. This was not a bad story but it lacked his poignant descriptions that usually seemed so effortless and the tortured protagonist was too easy to read. So, it fell one notch and then I was afraid he was losing his magic. But I'm a sensible gal and I know there is no way Fante would let that happen. I attribute the faults to the fact that he was blind at this point in his career, therefore he needed to dictate the story. ( )
  bjeans | Apr 3, 2013 |
Showing 4 of 4
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» Add other authors (7 possible)

Author nameRoleType of authorWork?Status
John Fanteprimary authorall editionscalculated
Arensman, Dirk-JanTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
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My first collision with fame was hardly memorable. I was a busboy at Marx's Deli. The year was 1934. The place was Third and Hill, Los Angeles. I was twenty-one years old, living in a world bounded on the west by Bunker Hill, on the east by Los Angeles Street, on the south by Pershing Square, and on the north by Civic Center. I was a busboy nonpareil, with great verve and style for the profession, and though I was dreadfully underpaid (one dollar a day plus meals) I attracted considerable attention as I whirled from table to table, balancing a tray on one hand, and eliciting smiles from my customers. I had something else beside a waiter's skill to offer my patrons, for I was also a writer.

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