Posted on 08/22/2007 2:38:23 PM PDT by Chi-townChief
The novel that launched the Beats, the hippies and designer jeans turns 50. But this legendary 'joyride' is actually the saddest book you'll ever read—even with God on every page.
Jack Kerouac's "On The Road" gets the full 50th anniversary treatment next month, and both cheerleaders and hand-wringers acknowledge that it radically changed American culture—somehow or other. True, the National Quiet Desperation Index has only risen since 1957, and if the book's exaltation of junker cars and diner food had really taken hold, we'd have fewer SUVs and fast-food franchises. But "On the Road" showed, and continues to show, generations of young readers a more intense, more passionate—and more closely examined—life. Some who've busted out to live it themselves died on the streets. Others have refreshed the American sensibility, in music, art, fashion, or in simply learning to kick back and take pleasure in pleasure. This book has stayed, as one of its early readers would say, forever young.
Yet when the novel—which might now be called "creative nonfiction"—appeared, its events were already 10 years in the past. And in 1947, when Kerouac (Sal Paradise in the book) hit the road, the America that obsessed him was already dwindling. Even bebop—apparently the only worthwhile product of modernity—was in decline, from Charlie Parker hot to West Coast cool. Kerouac mostly loved the vestiges of the Great Depression of the '30s: the hobos, hitchhikers, migrant workers and good plain folks just trying to get by.
Jack Kerouac reads from 'On the Road'
(Excerpt) Read more at msnbc.msn.com ...
I was a senior in high school - editor of the school newspaper - read the book - left school - went to Manhattan - got a job as office boy - 33rd floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza - on Friday of my first week office manager asked me to stay after work - brought me into his office - headmaster of school (in formal Monsignor dress) was sitting behind his desk - he asked, “are you ready to go back to school now? - I responded, “yes monsignor” - stopped at the Roosevelt Hotel for steaks - took train back to Boston - was back in class on Monday.
Forgot - Class of ‘57.
Amazing writer when he wasn’t slinging total BS.
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