Beat Generation – DaneCobain.com

Title: On the Road

Author: Jack Kerouac

Type: Fiction/Non-Fiction

Page Count/Review Word Count: 286

Rating: 8/10

Jack Kerouac – On the Road

Is this the real life? Or is this just fantasy? Kerouac’s most famous book, and one that many people call a masterpiece, is a weird mix of both – many of the characters are thinly-disguised caricatures of some of the people that he really knew, like Old Bull Lee instead of William Burroughs and, of course, Dean Moriarty instead of Neal Cassady.

In fact, the coolest thing about this book is the way in which it portrays some of the notorious beat generation writers that I love so much – you get a real glimpse at what life was like for them as they freewheeled their way across America in the 1950s.

And the writing is tight, too – in fact, it was with this book that Kerouac established his trademark style, in which he writes a stream of consciousness ramble with few corrections along the way. Legend has it that he wrote this entire book in the space of three weeks, while drugged up on benzedrine; it’s also a long, continuous manuscript – Kerouac taped the paper together so that he wouldn’t have to stop for something as trivial as adding a new sheet of paper to the typewriter.

On the Road is one of those rare books which everyone on the planet should read – it’s an important book, a milestone in the world of literature, a book that came along and changed everything and turned Kerouac and his talented friends in to stardom, almost overnight. If that’s not a good enough reason to read it then I don’t know what is – just go grab a copy, now.

Jack Kerouac

Click here to buy On the Road.

Jack Kerouac – Book of Sketches | Review

Title: Book of Sketches

Author: Jack Kerouac

Type: Poetry

Page Count/Review Word Count: 418

Rating: 9/10

Jack Kerouac – Book of Sketches

Words alone can’t describe how beautiful this book is to hold in your hands – it’s a gorgeous, pocket-sized collection of some of Kerouac’s poetry, which is as delightful to read as it is to look at it. Perhaps the coolest aspect of it is the serrated pages – every twenty pages or so, the page size changes slightly, creating a visual effect a bit like a harpsichord that feels incredible when you ruffle the pages.

But enough about the cover and bindings – what you really want to know about is the contents, and that’s where this is really special. Kerouac’s friend Ed White first suggested that he “sketch in the streets like a painter but with words” in 1951 – I reckon you see where this is going.

This book, then, is a record of the two years in which he recorded his “travels, observations and meditations on art and life”, whilst doing the usual travelling, of course. He has his usual way with words, and I’d argue that his skill here is greater than it was at most other points in his career – it’s certainly more civilized and refined, although it still holds the edge that the rest of his body of work contains.

Jack Kerouac

It’s the sort of book that most people wouldn’t even think about, but if you’re a Kerouac fan or a follower of the Beat Generation then I can promise you, you’re going to enjoy it. Likewise, if you’re a bibliophile then it’s a necessary addition to your collection, partly because of the story behind it, partly because it looks fantastic and partly because it’s a pretty good book in its own right.

Sure, it does feel a little incomplete, but that’s probably because there’s no real narrative to speak of and so the ending seems to come all of a sudden. Kerouac was also notorious for rarely, if ever, revising his manuscripts and making addition or amendments – in fact, that wouldn’t work here, because of the way in which his stream-of-consciousness poetry came about. It’s all about the moment, like a sketch is.

I can’t help but wonder what this book could have been if Jack Kerouac was an illustrator as well as a writer – his writing is evocative and helps you to picture his subjects in your mind’s eye, and I’d be interested to see whether my own interpretation matches up to Kerouac’s reality.