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First published in 1957, this novel epitomized to the world the Beat philosophy. It chronicles a spontaneous and wandering life style founded both on jazz and drug-induced visions.
Passionate, Poetic, and Nihlistic
| Customer Rating:   | Jack Kerouac (1922-1969) was initially fascinated by the heavily ornate style of novelist Thomas Wolfe, a writer best known for LOOK HOMEWARD, ANGEL; at the same time, however, he led an outsider's life that placed him on the fringe of American society, drifting across the country with little more than the clothes on his back, drinking hard, using drugs, and occasionally involved--at least in a passive sense--with a series of criminal activies, most notably Lucien Carr's murder of David Kammerer. In 1951, however, Kerouac suddenly shed his infatuation with Wolfe and, in a three week spree fueled by drugs and alcohol, wrote ON THE ROAD.
The book had tremendous difficulty finding a publisher, and did not reach the public until 1957, when it tapped into the rising undercurrent of society's rising dissatisfaction with the American status quo. Highly autobiographical in nature, it chronicles Kerouac's off-the-cuff roamings from New York to California and all points in between and presents a fairly nihlistic portrait of hustlers, users, abusers, derelicts, and the exhausted desperates of the era, all of them presented in a random and kaleidoscopic mannner.
There's no doubt that ON THE ROAD was and is a highly influential book, inspiring everyone from Bob Dylan to Hunter S. Thompson; it essentially reshaped notions about subject and style. But almost from the moment of its publication there has been a core complaint: what, ultimately, is the book about? What is the point? There is no plot per se, no linear story per se, simply a series of incidents and events and portraits. The leading characters, Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty (in actual fact Kerouac and Neal Cassady) rush headlong, speeding for the sake of speed, engaging in activities that raise their levels of desensitization and lead them to exhausted ennui that self-destructs into madness, self-pity, and despair--and the work ends as suddenly as it began.
In terms of literary success, the language is the thing. Kerouac can turn a phrase with the best of 'em, and his passions roll of the page in a series of bright images that transcribe the power of youth, the urge we all have to do the unacceptable just for the fun of it, a great rush of words that explode and recombine and tremble in an amazing jumble of the beautiful and the sordid. In a very real sense, language is "the point," the way in which Kerouac speaks is "the point." But there is indeed an overall point, although it may not be one that many will appreciate, much less enjoy.
The point, ultimately, is that there is no point. It is all speed for the sake of speed, movement for the sake of movement, and the fact that in spite of their nationwide crisscrossing and adventures, in spite of the passing affairs, drugs, alcohol, arguments about philosophy, and jolts of jazz neither Sal nor Dean are able to find any actual point or purpose--something that Sal seems to ultimately understand but that Dean is never really clear on. As such, ON THE ROAD not only taps into the underlying dissatisfaction that characterized America of the 1950s, it also forecasts the restlessness of the 1960s and the hedonism of the 1970s and 1980s.
It's easy to grant ON THE ROAD status on all these points, but it is more to difficult to recommend it as a "casual" read. It is not, and never really has been, the sort of thing you pick up at random; it requires a fair amount of concentration and, ideally, a certain prior knowledge of the "beat" writers, thinkers, and figures upon which the work is founded. It also requires the ability to read without any particular expectation in terms of structure and narrative line, as well the ability to place its dated slang and attitudes in historical perspective. If you can do all that--you'll love it. If not, this is one you'd do better to pass by.
GFT, Amazon Reviewer |
Don't believe the hype
| Customer Rating: | | On the Road: one of those books that people will claim they've read in order to sound cool at snooty parties or score with the earnest and naive alterna-chick, who is amazingly non-conformist, just like all her friends of course. This is a book that far more people claim to have read than have actually read, and among those of us that have actually read it, we come away feeling "wow, what the heck was all the fuss about?" I'll offer the benefit of the doubt and suggest it maybe was fresh, interesting, or what have you when it came out, but I don't see anything special about a couple of road trips that don't go any place really interesting. Semi-autobiographical, all Kerouac demonstrates is his being used and abused by junkie friends, which left me with an impression of Kerouac as a complete wannabe, always on the outside or the periphery looking in, never really part of this crowd he somehow managed to get hooked up with, more tolerated than anything, and a complete doormat, and dressing it all up in the most pretentious dribble imaginable. News flash people, it ain't _that_ good. I read it once when I was 17 and thought "hey this is pretty cool" a mere five years later at 22, I read it again and thought "seemed a lot cooler before I had any actual life experience" including several cross country road trips and some time overseas. I'm 31 now, and even less enamored. Not profound. Not even enjoyable, and certainly not deserving of its reputation. "I saw the most gullible minds of my generation, suckered in by horrible beatnik writing" ;) |
Kerouac's Masterpiece
| Customer Rating: | This is by far Kerouac's best work. It details his adventures with Neil Cassiday in way only Kerouac could. This book defines the beat movement and defines, for me at least how the world was long before I was born. Being only 20 years old I cannot imagine hitch hiking across the country, in the present time that would not only be socially unacceptable but highly dangerous.
However this book is a quick and fun read that you don't want to put down. Kerouac's writing style is great and original and cannot be matched. |
Hit the road without this one . . .
| Customer Rating: | I first read On the Road when I was still in high school, and I didn't think much of it then. I only picked it up because a guy in one of my classes kept going on and on about how wonderful it was. But I recently thought to myself that it IS, after all, widely considered to be a great book. And that, in the past, I've found re-reading books that I first read long ago has proven enriching, as my perspective of things has changed over the years.
Well, I read it again, and I still didn't like it too much, though I see why an 18-year-old boy would think it was the coolest thing EVER. I realize that this novel/memoir is hailed as the definitive book of the Beat Generation. I understand that the depiction of Dean Moriarty (Neal Cassady) is supposed to be representative of life, of the Christ figure, of the wild madness and crazy desire to grasp and understand life's meaning. But, overall, this is a book about some people who, at their core, are sad, lonely, unfulfilled, irresponsible, and out for themselves. At the end of the day, Dean Moriarty deserts his wife and abandons his children on a regular basis. Sal (Kerouac) blows his GI money on marijuana and Mexican whores. These guys are pinning all of their hopes on these epic road trips, but when they actually get out on the road, they are starving, miserable, sick, and start to piss each other off. Throw in some illicit drug use and the constant prowl for girls to have sex with, and you apparently have a book.
Remember how I said that my perspectives have changed over the years? They haven't changed me enough to make me a fan of this book. I thought Dean and the gang were crazy idiots back when I was 18, and I still think that today. Oh, well. I guess I should just be glad that I didn't grow up a member of the Beat Generation. I would have felt quite out of place.
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A True Classic
| Customer Rating: | | It is absolutely amazing that any novel could be written in just three weeks, let alone this defining portrayal of the United States in the early 1950's. This is a true masterpiece. |
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