"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn..."
This week I've been reading Jack Kerouac's classic, On the Road. Man, am I loving it!
A couple of weeks ago we discussed Allen Ginsberg's poetry in American Poetry class; naturally, we talked about the Beat Generation in detail. Of course, Kerouac's name came up too, since along with Ginsberg's Howl, On the Road is essential for those who want to get familiar with the Beat Generation. This put the bug into my ear, and I started thinking about reading it... Then I went to the library, and it was there, on the shelf, right in front of my eyes, whispering my name and begging me to take it off the shelf, lend it and read it already... So I did lend it, and started it in the very same evening. I read it aloud, just to myself, and immediately fell in love with the book, it's catching style, the way Kerouac writes about being on the road. Gosh, I want to do that too! I want to hitchhike my way through the US, or at least Europe. (Have nice plans, don't I?) Man, I wish I had the balls to do that! I'm dying to gain all that experience such a roadtrip gives you, I would love to get to know all those people, all of them being so different and fascinating. I am dying to travel, to be on the road, and see the world. I wish I could do that! ...And then I would write about it. I feel like I need new experiences that I could write about.
So, I'm reading On the Road, I'm about halfway into it, and I find it beautiful. It is like the most beautiful and mesmerizing thing I have ever read, words felt like magic on my lips when I uttered them. Believe it or not, I was actually pretty surprized to find myself not only liking but loving Kerouac, his style, and adventures, because I have already tried him last summer, and didn't like what he wrote at all. I started reading Maggy Cassidy about a year ago, but I struggled with it, I even put it down after about thirty pages because I just couldn't get used to his peculiar style, and that crazy, zigzagging way he wrote annoyed the heck out of me. Still, I gave Kerouac another chance, and started reading The Vanity of Duluoz, but I cannot honestly say that I enjoyed it. There were parts in that novel that entertained me, I liked the atmosphere he created, but most of the time I thought it was too much, over the top, a kind of showing off, and again, his peculiar style annoyed me. Yet, I fought myself through the novel, thinking "I cannot NOT like Jack Kerouac! Everyone loves him, that man was a genious, I must grow fond of him!". Nevertheless, I was reliefed when I was finally done with it. Still, On the Road remained on my reading list, because it's such a classic that I thought of it as a must-read regardless of my liking or disliking of Kerouac.
So I'm happy to be reading On the Road, and not only because I can tick off another book on my ever-growing list when I'm done with it, but because I actually love it. I guess this coming summer I shall give yet another chance to Kerouac's other works...
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