Ugh.

This simple exclamation can convey a wide range of emotions. It could be a sign of disgust, annoyance, or even frustration.

When we encounter something unpleasant, like a bad smell or a difficult task, we might let out a sigh and say "ugh." It's a quick and easy way to express our dissatisfaction.

Sometimes, "ugh" can also be used humorously. For example, if someone tells a really corny joke, we might respond with an exaggerated "ugh" to show that we didn't find it funny.

In conclusion, although "ugh" is a short and simple word, it can carry a lot of meaning and emotion. It's a useful expression that we all use from time to time.

Love California Mailman

I have a deep affection for the California Mailman.

Currently, I am fully immersed in working on an etching project. This etching not only showcases my artistic skills but also involves a detailed illustration.

The illustration within the etching holds great significance for me. It is a visual representation of my emotions and thoughts towards the California Mailman.

I am meticulously crafting each line and shade to bring out the essence of this subject.

The process of creating this etching has been both challenging and rewarding. It allows me to express my creativity and passion for art.

I hope that through this etching, others will be able to see and appreciate the beauty and importance of the California Mailman.

As I continue to work on this project, I am filled with excitement and anticipation for the final outcome.

I believe that it will be a piece of art that truly captures the spirit of the California Mailman.

The title "کسل کننده.. فاقد جذابیت" seems to be in Persian and might roughly translate to "Boring.. Lacking Appeal".

Boring things can really make our lives feel dull and uninteresting. When something is lacking appeal, it fails to capture our attention or激发 our enthusiasm. It could be a book that doesn't engage us, a movie with a predictable plot, or a task that seems monotonous. We often find ourselves yawning or looking for something more exciting to do. However, it's important to note that what one person finds boring, another might find fascinating. Our interests and preferences vary greatly. So, while some things may seem unappealing to us at first glance, it's always worth giving them a chance and looking for the hidden gems or unique aspects that might make them more interesting. After all, there's a whole world of possibilities out there waiting to be discovered, and sometimes, the most unexpected things can turn out to be the most captivating.

This book is truly a challenge to get through.

It is nothing more than a compilation of extremely short, rather nonsensical observations and memories.

There is hardly any unifying theme, except that some of the pieces are set in Montana and many of them are in Japan.

It has a few redeeming moments, but they are truly few and far between.

The writing is rambly and awkward, making it a difficult read.

Among the handful of Brautigan books that I have read so far, this one is definitely my least favorite.

It lacks the charm and coherence that I have come to expect from his works.

While there may be some闪光点 here and there, they are not enough to save the overall experience.

I would not recommend this book to others, unless they are die-hard fans of Brautigan and are willing to endure the disjointed nature of the writing.

Overall, it is a disappointment and a book that I will likely not revisit.

Once upon a time, I was overly generous in dishing out five-star reviews.

Now, upon reflection, I tend to give many four-star ratings, the occasional three-star rating, and almost never a one- or two-star rating (since I usually give up on the book by then anyway). Occasionally, when I discover that rare gem in the rough, I'll award a five-star rating.

Well, here I've found one. As a fan of Richard Brautigan's writing, I might be slightly biased, but this is the last prose work of his that I've had the pleasure of reading, and it could very well be the best.

What amazes me is that some of Brautigan's greatest and most powerful works (this book, The Tokyo-Montana Express, Before the Wind Blows It All Away, and The Unfortunate Woman) were all written at the end of his life, when he was a fading bookmark, if not an icon, of a more optimistic and idealistic era (i.e., the late 1960s).

I know most people love his earlier and more renowned works such as Trout Fishing in America (which was one of the weirdest yet most captivating books I've ever read), In Watermelon Sugar, and The Abortion. All of these books are great in their own way, simpler, shorter, and the prose is somehow more terse and succinct. They are more condensed statements.

However, I believe there is a real depth and maturity to Brautigan's later works that have been somewhat overlooked, just as William Burroughs' late masterpieces (The Cities of the Red Night trilogy) have been somewhat overshadowed by the massive presence, renown, and notoriety of The Naked Lunch.

Nevertheless, I must admit that I do concur with many other reviewers in stating that this is more of a collection of short stories than a novel per se. That is, based on my understanding of what a novel conventionally is or the components it requires to be classified as a novel in the first place. The chapters in this book, or'stations' along the way from Montana to Tokyo as Brautigan so aptly puts it, are humorous and sometimes brilliantly and elegantly written little sketches that all have one thing in common - they either take place in Tokyo or in Montana, or somewhere in between the two places where Brautigan found himself in the late 1970s. If they all share the same 'theme' of 'happenings in Tokyo and Montana', then perhaps it is a novel in some sense, just like Faulkner's Go Down, Moses is partly a novel because all of the individual short stories in the book are about the same families and relatives.

This, in my opinion, is Brautigan at his best. The writing is succinct, to the point, witty, far-out and weird, humorous, sad, poetic, etc., as we have come to expect from him. There are many excellent stories in this book, but for me personally, the real standouts were The Good Work Of Chickens, Times Square in Montana, and The Smallest Snowstorm on Record.

If you are a fan of Brautigan or new to his work, you must read this book. It's great, and finally - clocking in at around 250 pages (I'm not sure of the final page count as I read an uncorrected proof edition), it's one of the longest books Richard ever published, I think. With the stellar quality of writing contained within, it really is excellent value for money, food for thought, and just plain good old entertainment. I will return to this volume whenever I need a laugh or need to take my mind off all the big problems in my life, which Richard is able to do with his humor and his whimsy.

" A Letter to My Readers "

Dear Richard, a few days ago I read a collection of your stories. I must admit that some of them were really beautiful. I really liked this sentence from one of your stories: "I placed the Pacific Ocean under a paperweight, just like the rest of your life, beneath your scribbled writings, beside that window facing the sea." I am always asking myself who you are. All Persian websites, except for some confusion, don't give me any spiritual satisfaction. They always say: a writer in love with hunting who was finally hunted himself. I must admit that there are many whys in your life, so I decided to discover you from among your writings. My first encounter was a sad one as I was checking the lines of your book and then I was a witness to your escape page by page. You would sit watching people and I was the observer of you. I saw loneliness approaching you step by step and taking possession of your existence like a treasure chest. You were so afraid of its presence that your smallness had no end. Wherever you went, your country was crying and wherever your home was, loneliness had nestled in its embrace. Even in the busiest streets of Tokyo and under the rain, it could not be buried by words and descriptions. Sometimes it came so close to you that I could feel your shiver. But from my point of view, loneliness has two hands, one for giving and the other for standing. Be fair and you will see how much loneliness has complicated and diversified your spirit and calm. It has made you see the dance of the little feet of the mosquitoes and the disappearance of the moths in the light from behind your eyes, smell the sweet scent of the blooming oranges from the bodies of the babies and become one with the shadows. You pour the wines into your veins and say that life is an open whole, like a short and brief moment that comes and goes before your eyelids open. From your writings, I understood that life is not about seeing again and again. Life is always indifferent to our pains and never yields to our flexibility. We must learn from the stagnant mire. It always returns and tells us that sometimes searching within is not the end result. This holding of hands is a beauty mixed with thought. So at the last stop, there is no hidden truth. The truth is the pleasure of waking up. This also determines the place where you set foot.....

I had a rather strange and sick fascination with this particular guy, which dated back to around my junior high or high school years. During that time, I was so intrigued by him that I read nearly everything he had written.

He achieved a certain level of popularity among semi-educated hippies in the late sixties and seventies. His works, which consisted of sex-obsessed yet gently poetic stories and poems, were essentially autobiographic fiction. These pieces were filled with passages that were both melancholic and funny, creating a unique and captivating tone.

The language he used had a sort of quirky simplicity that added to the charm of his writing. In comparison to Bukowski, who was often seen as a bottle-chugging jerk, he was more of a tree-hugging pacifist. Additionally, he was one of the first writers to pose for photographs that were featured on the front covers of his books, which was quite a novel concept at the time.

Overall, his writing and his persona made him a memorable and interesting figure in the literary world.

I don't know if the problem was with the translation or the proofreading. But in some places, the work was really good. Especially, there were two or three mistakes that were very distracting! One of its parts was also half-finished! I don't know if these have been fixed in the subsequent printings or not. However, the feeling of some of its parts was so good that I would close the book and not read it anymore, just to keep it in my mind for a while. Like that part where it says that in one of the cities in Japan, in spring, the smell of blooming oranges can be smelled everywhere. Even the children who are just born into the world. The feelings and events in some parts were excellent.

This book had its flaws, but it also had its shining moments. The description of the spring in the Japanese city was so vivid that it made me feel as if I was there, breathing in the sweet scent of oranges. The author's ability to capture the essence of different moments and convey them to the reader was truly remarkable.

Despite the distractions caused by the mistakes, I still found myself drawn to the book. It had a certain charm that kept me engaged and interested. I hope that in future printings, the errors will be corrected so that more people can enjoy this wonderful work without any hindrances.

Ruminations on Brautigan's time spent in Montana and in Tokyo offer a fascinating glimpse into his creative psyche. In Montana, the vast and wild landscapes似乎激发了他内心深处的自由与不羁。Here, he felt liberated to explore the strange and the wonderful in his writing, unencumbered by the constraints of convention. The unique charm of Montana's natural beauty and its isolation perhaps provided the perfect backdrop for his vivid imagination to run wild.

Similarly, in Tokyo, a bustling metropolis with its own distinct culture and energy, Brautigan found another source of inspiration. The contrast between the modern cityscape and the ancient traditions of Japan likely intrigued him and led to the creation of some truly remarkable works. His writing in this period also exhibits a sense of freedom, as he fearlessly delved into the strange and the unexpected, blurring the boundaries between reality and fantasy.

Overall, Brautigan's time in Montana and Tokyo was clearly a formative period in his life as a writer. It was during these years that he truly came into his own, experimenting with different styles and themes and pushing the boundaries of what was possible in literature. His works from this period continue to inspire and captivate readers today, a testament to his unique talent and vision.

This is my favorite book by Richard Brautigan.

It offers such an enjoyable train ride through a collection of stories and thoughts, seamlessly transitioning between his experiences in Japan and his time spent in Montana.

Adhering to his traditional Brautiganism style of micro-chapters, the stories are concise, poetic, and delightfully aimless.

One story that particularly stands out in my memory is "The Smallest Snowstorm on Record." In it, he witnesses a snowstorm consisting of precisely 2 snowflakes.

Eagerly, he races outside in an attempt to locate them.

"I went outside and tried to find them. I admired their courage to be themselves in the face of it all. As I was looking for them, I was devising ways to get them into the freezer where they would be comfortable and receive the attention, admiration, and accolades they so beautifully deserved."

There's another charming one titled "Harmonica High." I copied it down in pink sharpie pen and sent it to a dear friend, aware of its potential to amuse and hoping to convert that potential energy into kinetic.

It's simply a report on a lovely fantasy about a school where everyone, even the janitors, plays the harmonica.

Your diploma is the harmonica you received as a freshman.

It's outrageously silly yet extremely sincere and sweet, making your heart and soul feel as warm and comforting as grilled cheese and tomato soup.

This is the fourth Richard Brautigan book I’ve read, and it’s probably my least favourite so far.

In terms of structure, this book reminds me a great deal of “Trout Fishing in America”. There are the same short segments, ranging from half a page to 5 - 6 pages, and there are also the same more or less random musings on life. However, the two books were written approximately 20 years apart, and this difference is evident.

Many of the stations on The Tokyo - Montana Express have a very downbeat feel to them, and the book generally exudes a despondent air that I didn't sense in “Trout Fishing…”. Brautigan ruminates extensively on death and his lost youth. In one section, he observes a shabbily dressed man distributing advertising handbills to passers-by on a street. Most of the passers-by glance at the handbills once before crumpling them up and throwing them into the first bin they see. Brautigan wonders if this scene is analogous to his own life as a writer.

Many of the sections refer to suicides or other deaths that he is informed about or reads about in newspapers. Of course, the reader of today knows that Brautigan himself committed suicide in 1984, just a few years after the publication of this book. Reading this collection, it's easy to envision that his thoughts were already leaning in that direction.

The book does have its redeeming moments. There are enough flashes of the old Brautigan for me to (just about) rate it at 3 stars.

Perhaps I'm now too old and jaded for a book like this, just like Brautigan himself when he wrote it.

Overall, while this book has its flaws, it still offers some insights into Brautigan's mind and his views on life and death. It's a bittersweet read that leaves the reader with a sense of melancholy.

This is my very first encounter with Brautigan, and it has truly been the ideal introduction for me.

The stories he presents are astonishingly short, extremely brief in fact, yet each one manages to feel precisely the right length.

His writing style is nothing short of remarkable. It flows so smoothly, as if it were a gentle river, and is vivid to the point where it brings the scenes and characters to life in my mind.

I have come across the information that he has, to some extent, become forgotten. This is indeed a great shame.

Given that his prose is absolutely fantastic and merits being far better known. It is a literary treasure that should not be overlooked or left in the shadows.

His unique way of storytelling and the beauty of his language deserve to be discovered and cherished by a wider audience.

Hopefully, in the future, more people will have the opportunity to experience the magic of Brautigan's writing.