Jack Kerouac, you had me at “the road.”
You said, “The road is life;” As a traveler I couldn’t agree more. While I didn’t love everything about this reading — there were actually large sections of the text I breezed through because they went on and on — a lot of times, Kerouac captivated me with creative aphorisms that thrilled my imagination and spirit.
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 who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center-light pop, and everybody goes, “Awww…”
Later in this post, I will share the other quotes from this book I jotted down. For now, here are five observations I made while reading this …
1. Word flow. Spontaneous prose. This read helped me in my struggle against perfectionism. I easily get hung up on sentences, punctuation, and the constant asking-of-myself, “Does this sound good?” Sometimes, you just have to write, get on with it, and edit it later. Don’t take yourself so seriously, even if you know already it sounds like crap. Move on knowing it will later get sent to the chopping block. One caveat: don’t completely lose your head. Sometimes I felt Kerouac’s writing was so manic I wondered if he was on speed while writing it. Hence why I would skim a few pages here and there just to move forward.
2. This book attracts men on New York City subways. It’s uncanny, really. I used to spend my hour-long commute from Prospect Heights, Brooklyn into Manhattan reading (I now live in the city, which is bittersweet because I miss those times). Never was there ever an attention-grabbing title like this one; all by men oddly. People usually don’t interrupt me as I tag Post-it Notes to pages and underline words and make notes in margins. But ladies, if you’re looking for some intellectual male attention, I suggest carrying this book around and seeing what happens.
3. Hipsters also love it. If you want to be part of this movement, which Kerouac described as “a new beat generation that I was slowly joining” I might also suggest other independent-thinking, counter-culture titles like Catcher in the Rye or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. The narrators of these two kind of take on that same voice.
4. Caffe Reggio, a cool place to hang and write. It’s that bright-green building on MacDougal between W 3rd and Bleecker; trust me, you wont miss it. This is actually where Jack Kerouac used to hang out and it’s also famed for being the first caffe to serve cappuccinos in America. It’s pretty cozy. Get a table, a cup of joe, and observe all the saucy intellects that swing by.
5. Kerouac is boss at creating action. His punctuation choices sail me across the page. To master this, he either connects short sentences that begin with present tense verbs or he eliminates the period all together and opts for long, connecting dashes. For example, “The most fantastic parking lot attendant in the world, he can back a car forty miles an hour into a tight squeeze and stop at the wall, jump out, race among fenders, leap into another car, circle it fifty miles an hour in a narrow space, back swiftly into a tight spot; hump, snap the car with the emergency so that you see it bounce as he flies out; then clear to the ticket shack, sprinting like a track star, hand a ticket …” Pg. 6. This tactic is what makes his writing feel at times frenzied or mad as he calls it.
Notable Quotes: Take Aways from On the Road
To others, this part may seem tedious, but honestly I love what authors say so much that when I stumble upon something that really gets me for one reason or another, I will bookmark it and then painstakingly go back through and write it down verbatim. Perhaps you could use your judgment here as to why you like it or suggest other quotes that you like better.
“Carlo Marx and I once sat down together, knee to knee, in two chairs, facing, and I told him a dream I had about a strange Arabian figure that was pursuing me across the desert; that I tried to avoid; that finally overtook me just before I reached the protective city … It was myself wearing a shroud. Something, someone, some spirit was pursuing all of us across the desert of life and was bound to catch us before we reached heaven … Death will overtake us before heaven. The one thing that we yearn for in our living days that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death. But who wants to die?” Pg. 123 – 4
I find this poetically written, especially the beginning. Were the chairs facing? The knees? The people?
“I had nothing to offer anyone else but my own confusion.” Pg. 126
I call this method the surprising word technique. It’s something that makes writing punchy because it catches people off guard. For example, offering someone confusion. In the Yiddish Policemen’s Union, Michael Chabon pulls a similar tactic. He writes, “But the truth is that Landsman has only two moods: working and dead.” Did you jump a little bit? Try it out. The empty box was filled with guilt: a reminder that Megan had just eaten her way to the bottom, alone.
“It was three children of the earth trying to decide something in the night and having all the weight of the past centuries ballooning in the dark before them.” Pg. 134
Using a noun as a verb is also one of my creative favorites. Take an object and add -ing or -ed to the end and see how it sounds. Megan pizza boxed down Fifth Avenue, took up the majority of the sidewalk in a ridiculous, cardboard-like leather jacket too stiff to ply easily passed the moving crowd, smelled stale and waxy in her hip New York threads that fit neither her style nor her body in a natural way.
“We were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move.” Pg. 134
Another style element, word/phrase repetition.
“Marylou was watching Dean … with a sullen, sad air, as though she wanted to cut off his head and hide it in her closet, an envious and rueful love of him so amazingly himself, all raging and sniffy and crazy-wayed, a smile of tender dotage but also sinister envy that frightened me about her, a love she knew would never bear fruit because when she looked at his hang jawed bony face with its male self-containment and absentmindedness and she knew he was too mad.” Pg. 163
Some alliteration here, “with sullen, sad air, as though.” But honestly I really love the characterization. What a way to describe someone right?
“The people who were in that all-night movie were the end. Beat Negroes who’d come up from Alabama to work in car factories on a rumor; old white bums; young long-haired hipsters who’d reached the end of the road and were drinking wine; whores, ordinary couples, and housewives with nothing to do, nowhere to go, nobody to believe in. If you sifted all Detroit in a wire basket the beater solid core of dregs wouldn’t be better gathered.” Pg. 245
And again, just some more loved description.
The end.