'The Most Beautiful Woman In Town' by Charles Bukowski

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Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her
body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some
said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To
the men she was simply a sex machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not.
And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it
came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.

Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass
had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when
people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them.
Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous
of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't
make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called
handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on
their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no
insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some
call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the
girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had
been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and
Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending
herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar
rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End
Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of
the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the
ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.

"Drink?" I asked.

"Sure, why not?"

I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was
simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No
pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of
age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each
time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She
was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had
ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your
looks..."

"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm
pretty?"

"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."

Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She
came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through
her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me
and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled
the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the
bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:

"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."

"Oh, fuck you, man!" she said.

"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.

"She'll be all right," I said.

"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."

"No," I said, "it hurts me."

"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"

"Yes, it does, I mean it."

"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."

She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her
nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It
was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She
gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of
wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man,
something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and
after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,

"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"

"In the morning," I said and turned my back.

In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She
laughed.

"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."

"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."

"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."

Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long
black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her
body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.

"Come on, lover man."

I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body,
through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to
make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.

I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but
she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and
read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.

"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something
to cover that thing with, nature boy."

She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.

"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"

"I knew."

Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she
seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights
she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.

"These sons of bitches," she said, "just because they buy you a few
drinks they think they can get into your pants."

"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."

"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."

"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see
beyond your body."

I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.

"Well, bastard, I see you've come back."

I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass
heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into
her face.

"God damn you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"

"No, it's the fad, you fool."

"You're crazy."

"I've missed you," she said.

"Is there anybody else?"

"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But
you get it free."

"Pull those pins out."

"No, it's the fad."

"It's making me very unhappy."

"Are you sure?"

"Hell yes, I'm sure."

Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.

"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with
it?"

"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You
don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for
something else."

"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."

"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating
face."

"Thanks."

We had another drink.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."

"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."

"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's
wearing."

"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."

We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful
woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of
wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would
listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed
to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh-
only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and
moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that
Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat.
It was large and thick.

"God damn you, woman," I said from the bed, "god damn you, what have you
done?

"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still
beautiful?"

I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some
men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very
funny."

"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, bitch, I love you...stop
destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."

We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black
hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and
wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and
happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over
and shook me,

"Up, bastard! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the
feast!"

I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were
splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on
stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old
ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left
behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all,
there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say
much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and
drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an
hour. It was somehow better than lovemaking. There was flowing together without tension.
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender
said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"

"No."

"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."

"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at
any moment. How could she be gone?

"Her sisters buried her."

"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"

"She cut her throat."

"I see. Give me another drink."

I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most
beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have
insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her
had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too
unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up
and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town
was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and
persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "GOD DAMN YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH
,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Most Beautiful Woman In Town: A Literary Masterpiece

I recently picked up the book "The Most Beautiful Woman In Town" by Charles Bukowski, and let me tell you, I was blown away. This collection of short stories is a literary masterpiece, and I cannot recommend it enough. In this essay, I will be delving deep into the themes, characters, and writing style of this classic story.

Plot Summary

"The Most Beautiful Woman In Town" is a collection of short stories that revolves around the life of the protagonist, Henry Chinaski. The book starts off with Henry's childhood and follows his journey through adolescence, adulthood, and finally, middle age. The stories are told in a non-chronological order, which adds to the overall effect of the book.

Throughout the book, Henry contends with various issues such as love, sex, alcoholism, and poverty. He meets numerous women, some of whom he falls in love with, while others he only has sex with. Bukowski's writing style is raw and unapologetic, and he does not shy away from depicting the harsh realities of life.

Themes

One of the main themes explored in "The Most Beautiful Woman In Town" is the notion of beauty. Henry is constantly searching for the most beautiful woman, and he believes that if he can find her, he will finally be happy. However, he soon realizes that beauty is not everything and that it can be superficial.

Another theme that is explored in the book is the idea of love. Henry falls in love with numerous women throughout the book, but his relationships are always doomed to fail. Bukowski shows that love can be messy and complicated, and it is not always easy to find.

Alcoholism is another prominent theme in the book. Henry and many of the other characters are heavy drinkers, and Bukowski does not shy away from depicting the negative effects of alcohol. He shows how it can destroy relationships, careers, and ultimately, lives.

Characters

Henry Chinaski is the protagonist of the book, and he is a complex and multi-dimensional character. He is a heavy drinker, a womanizer, and a struggling writer. Despite his many flaws, Bukowski manages to make Henry a sympathetic character, and the reader cannot help but root for him.

The women in the book are also well-developed characters, and they all have their own unique personalities. Some of them are strong and independent, while others are vulnerable and in need of protection. Bukowski does a fantastic job of depicting the complexities of relationships and how they can be both beautiful and challenging.

Writing Style

Bukowski's writing style is raw and unapologetic. He does not shy away from depicting the harsh realities of life, and his prose is both beautiful and brutal. His use of language is simple yet powerful, and he manages to convey a great deal of emotion through his writing.

The non-chronological order of the stories adds to the overall effect of the book. It allows the reader to see Henry at different stages of his life and to witness his growth and development.

Interpretation

"The Most Beautiful Woman In Town" is a book that can be interpreted in many different ways. On one hand, it can be seen as a cautionary tale about the dangers of alcoholism and womanizing. On the other hand, it can be seen as a celebration of life and all its complexities.

One interpretation of the book is that Henry's search for the most beautiful woman is a metaphor for the human desire for perfection. We are constantly searching for something better, something that will make us happy. However, as Henry learns, true happiness cannot be found in superficial things such as beauty.

Another interpretation of the book is that it is a commentary on the human condition. Bukowski shows us the messy, complicated, and often painful aspects of life. He does not sugarcoat anything, and his writing is a reflection of the harsh realities of the world we live in.

Conclusion

In conclusion, "The Most Beautiful Woman In Town" is a literary masterpiece that explores themes of beauty, love, alcoholism, and the complexities of human relationships. Bukowski's writing style is raw and unapologetic, and he manages to convey a great deal of emotion through his prose. The book can be interpreted in many different ways, and it is a must-read for anyone who appreciates great literature.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

The Most Beautiful Woman In Town: A Masterpiece of Bukowski's Writing

Charles Bukowski is a name that needs no introduction in the world of literature. His works are known for their rawness, honesty, and unapologetic portrayal of life's harsh realities. One of his most famous short stories, "The Most Beautiful Woman In Town," is a prime example of his unique style of writing. In this article, we will delve deep into the story, analyzing its themes, characters, and literary devices.

The story revolves around a woman named Cass, who is described as the most beautiful woman in town. She is a prostitute who is loved by many men, but she is also a victim of abuse and exploitation. The story is narrated by a man who is infatuated with Cass and is willing to do anything to be with her. The story is set in the 1960s, a time when the counterculture movement was at its peak, and the story reflects the disillusionment and despair of that era.

One of the most striking aspects of the story is its vivid portrayal of Cass. Bukowski's description of her is both sensual and brutal. He describes her as having "a body like a Greek statue, a face like a Botticelli angel, and a heart like a snake." This description captures the paradoxical nature of Cass's character. She is both beautiful and dangerous, alluring and repulsive. Her beauty is a curse that attracts men who want to possess her, but it also makes her vulnerable to abuse and exploitation.

The story also explores the theme of power dynamics in relationships. Cass is a prostitute who is dependent on men for her survival, but she also has a certain power over them. She knows how to manipulate them and use their desires to her advantage. The men who are attracted to her are willing to do anything to be with her, even if it means degrading themselves. Cass is aware of this power dynamic and uses it to her advantage. She is not a victim but a survivor who knows how to navigate the world of men.

The narrator of the story is another interesting character. He is a man who is obsessed with Cass and is willing to do anything to be with her. He is aware of her past and the abuse she has suffered, but he still wants to possess her. He is a typical Bukowski character, a man who is disillusioned with life and seeks solace in alcohol and women. He is a flawed character who is both sympathetic and repulsive.

The story is also notable for its use of literary devices. Bukowski's writing style is characterized by its simplicity and directness. He uses short sentences and simple language to convey complex emotions and ideas. The story is full of vivid imagery and metaphors that capture the essence of the characters and their surroundings. For example, when describing Cass's beauty, Bukowski writes, "her eyes were like two blue pools of fire, and her lips were like two red roses that had just been kissed by the sun." This description not only captures Cass's physical beauty but also the intensity of her personality.

Another literary device used in the story is irony. The title of the story, "The Most Beautiful Woman In Town," is ironic because Cass is not beautiful in the conventional sense. She is beautiful because of her strength and resilience in the face of adversity. The men who are attracted to her are not attracted to her beauty but to her power. The story is also ironic in its portrayal of the narrator's obsession with Cass. He thinks he loves her, but in reality, he is just another man who wants to possess her.

In conclusion, "The Most Beautiful Woman In Town" is a masterpiece of Bukowski's writing. It is a story that explores complex themes such as power dynamics in relationships, the paradoxical nature of beauty, and the disillusionment of the counterculture era. The characters are vividly portrayed, and the use of literary devices such as imagery and irony adds depth and complexity to the story. It is a story that is both brutal and beautiful, just like the woman it portrays.

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