Pulp is Charles Bukowski’s last novel published posthumously about a year after his death and written while he was dying. It’s a parody/homage to classic noir pulp novels about hard boiled detectives and femme fatales. It also features the incarnation of Death as a sexy woman, aliens, and a MacGuffin which is a metaphor for his own mortality.
I’m slowly working my way through his novels and I’ve liked each one so far. I feel bad for people who can’t look past the filth to see the brilliance underneath. I actually finished this last week. I was in the middle of it when I started the History of Heavy Metal book, so I still need to find a good book for July.