7 Book Dedications That Are Essentially a 'Get Lost!'

Not all authors’ book dedications are sweet. Some—like these—are just plain harsh.

1. Post Office // Charles Bukowski (1971)

“Presented as a fictional work and dedicated to no one.”

Even in his debut novel (which was partly autobiographical—he worked as both a postal worker and a clerk), Charles Bukowski saw no reason to flatter anyone.

2. Silver Bullet: The Martini in American Civilization // Lowell Edmunds (1981)

“I would like to blame the editors of Notes and Queries for rejecting my brief and dignified query about the Martini, and I would also like to blame the editor of the New York Times Book Review for failing to print my author's inquiry. May these editors find their gin turning into gasoline, or may they drink too many Martinis and accidentally swallow a toothpick, as Sherwood Anderson is said to have done.”

Authors are quick to thank others for their help. But why shouldn’t they also call out those who didn’t lend a hand?

3. This Boy’s Life // Tobias Wolff (1989)

“My first stepfather used to say that what I didn’t know could fill an entire book. Well, here it is.”

The acknowledgements in Tobias Wolff’s memoir, recounting a tough adolescence with abusive stepfathers, culminate on a sharply pointed note.

4. No Contest: The Case Against Competition // Alfie Kohn (1986)

“Let me point out that most of the research for this book took place in the libraries of Harvard University, whose collection size is only rivaled by the institution’s determination to limit access. I’m grateful for the opportunity to use these resources, even though I only had this privilege because the school mistook me for someone else.”

Acknowledging the collections used in research is the right thing to do, even when it comes with a ‘thanks, but screw you for trying to stop me from using them’ tone.

5. No Thanks // E.E. Cummings (1935)

E.E. Cummings authored a poetry collection that was rejected by 14 publishers. Eventually, he published it under the title No Thanks. The dedication was a list of all the publishers who had turned it down, arranged to resemble a funeral urn.

6. Logan: A Family History // John Neal (1822)

“I do not dedicate my book to anyone, for I know no one deserving of it. I have no friends, no children, no spouse, no home; no family, no supporters; no one to love or care for. To whom should I dedicate it? To my Maker? It’s unworthy of him. To my fellow countrymen? They are unworthy of me. I have little respect for the men of history, and none for those living today. To whom then should I entrust it? Who will care for me tomorrow? Who will defend my book after I’m gone? Will posterity? Yes, posterity will give me justice. To posterity then—into the winds! I leave it! I offer it—as a Roman would his enemy—to the merciless and relentless forces of another world—to a generation of spirits—to the shadowy and crowned rulers of the afterlife. I—I—I am finished—the blood of the red man grows cold—farewell—forever!”

This fictional book was inspired by the true story of a Native American chief whose family was slaughtered by a group of white outlaws. The author (whose biography is titled A Down-East Yankee from the District of Maine) possessed a stubborn nature that couldn’t settle for a mere “screw you” when a “screw you all” was far more fitting.

7. Psychological Care of the Infant and Child // John Watson (1928)

“To the First Mother Who Raises a Happy Child.”

Watson’s book, which warns against creating unrealistic expectations in children by excessively pampering them with love, is written from the perspective that the person receiving his dedication doesn’t yet exist, essentially turning the dedication into a “screw you” directed at all mothers.