On the Road
Jack Kerouac
You know what? It’s summer. Summer for me means complete freedom, and I’ll be damned if I’ll spend it reading shitty books, even if they are classics. I gave Kerouac TWO, count ‘em, TWO mothereffing chances with On the Road, and even if it is a classic, I’m not torturing myself any more.
I first tried this book a few years ago: no dice. I read no more than maybe 20 pages before the god of sleep whispered in my ear a tale far greater than Kerouac’s. This year, however, On the Road was everywhere I turned. Random people were planning to read it; Jack Kerouac’s name was being dropped into conversations that had nothing to do with books. Was the spirit world telling me to return to this classic and give it another try? Apparently so, and pick it up again I did, this time banging down one-third of the book before hanging my head in defeat.
I try to live every day like it’s my last, and if today really is my last day, I’ll be damned if I’m giving it to On the Road. I know it’s a classic, but maybe it just hasn’t aged well.
I’m sure you all know about On the Road; it’s “beat,” it’s “hip,” it’s about finding yourself while traveling around America. It’s also pretty friggin boring. Kerouac spent years bumming around the country and only three weeks writing the book, and maybe he should have spent some time editing or at least some time jazzing shit up. You know, it’s okay to embellish to make a story better and it’s not necessary to include every little insignificant event that occurred between New York and San Francisco. Look, there’s a hobo! He’s free! Look, there’s a mountain! Nature! In between looking at stuff, Jack – oh, my bad, Sal – bums around the country screwing girls, getting wasted, and scrambling for some dough.
Screwing girls and getting wasted, you ask? I bet you’re thinking: sounds like a party to me! Well this is the boringest party I’ve ever attended, and I’ve been to some real winners in my time.
Jack Kerouac
You know what? It’s summer. Summer for me means complete freedom, and I’ll be damned if I’ll spend it reading shitty books, even if they are classics. I gave Kerouac TWO, count ‘em, TWO mothereffing chances with On the Road, and even if it is a classic, I’m not torturing myself any more.
I first tried this book a few years ago: no dice. I read no more than maybe 20 pages before the god of sleep whispered in my ear a tale far greater than Kerouac’s. This year, however, On the Road was everywhere I turned. Random people were planning to read it; Jack Kerouac’s name was being dropped into conversations that had nothing to do with books. Was the spirit world telling me to return to this classic and give it another try? Apparently so, and pick it up again I did, this time banging down one-third of the book before hanging my head in defeat.
I try to live every day like it’s my last, and if today really is my last day, I’ll be damned if I’m giving it to On the Road. I know it’s a classic, but maybe it just hasn’t aged well.
I’m sure you all know about On the Road; it’s “beat,” it’s “hip,” it’s about finding yourself while traveling around America. It’s also pretty friggin boring. Kerouac spent years bumming around the country and only three weeks writing the book, and maybe he should have spent some time editing or at least some time jazzing shit up. You know, it’s okay to embellish to make a story better and it’s not necessary to include every little insignificant event that occurred between New York and San Francisco. Look, there’s a hobo! He’s free! Look, there’s a mountain! Nature! In between looking at stuff, Jack – oh, my bad, Sal – bums around the country screwing girls, getting wasted, and scrambling for some dough.Screwing girls and getting wasted, you ask? I bet you’re thinking: sounds like a party to me! Well this is the boringest party I’ve ever attended, and I’ve been to some real winners in my time.
Looks like they were reading Kerouac too.In a nutshell: If you like boring books, this one’s for you!
Bibliolatry Scale: abandoned
Bibliolatry Scale: abandoned
12 comments:
This book has been on my radar for awhile now but I never have "officially" added it to my TBR list. I certainly won't be doing that now. Thanks for the warning
Hmm, Where do I start?
Do I say that I loathe this book with a passion I usually reserve for the works of Milan Kundera? How about that I hate this book so much I couldn't restrain myself from reading right till the last page, and only managed to stop myself going back to page one by sticking chopsticks in my eyes?
Do I mention the raging misoginy that gets under your skin in such a self congratulatory way that you have to take a shower afterwards? This isn't the casual (and forgivable in context) disdain of Asimov or Heinlein, but a calculated misogyny where the women are objects of lust, violence and stupidity.
How about the self-satisfied elitism that raises his feeble caffeine addled conversation into some higher state of consciousness, as if any allusions to the spiritual make his journey so much richer than that of us proles not "travelling the way".
Or what of the misanthropy and elevation of a fundamentally shiftless lifestyle into some kind of religious ideal...
I dislike this book, just a little, cant you tell?
Kick him in the nuts Biblio, kick him in the nuts.
"Modern classic" my arse.
Ha ha, my husband feels pretty much this same way, but one of my best friends says it's one of her favorite books ever! So I have to mostly keep neutral about it in order not to get caught in the crossfire! But I did go see the scroll. Did you see that in my blog? I hope it wasn't that post that inspired you to torture yourself like this!
I could never get into this book.
I've been noticing the same thing, "On The Road" is everywhere and being touted as a great summer read...no one writes quite like Jack Kerouac and no one ever should!
On the Road seemed like the greatest thing ever when I was 17 or whatever when I first read it, but I took a crack at it a few years later, and it left me limp as a dead mackerel. I actually bought a copy just yesterday to see if I was wrong about it, and while I've only invested $1.00 so far, I'm not sure when I'll see my way clear to invest the time.
Hahahahaha! This post is fantastic. For a meme I mentioned authors that I would never try on pain of death and Kerouac was one of them. I've never read any of his books (and I never will) but everything everyone said to me created a repelling impression that you just confirmed -- thanks.
One of my favourite commenters at my blog likes it a lot though, I think. Maybe it's similar to the thing I have for Hemingway's novels despite his cracked take on relationships.
You are becoming quite the iconoclast! On the Road was the bible of the beat generation, a roadmap to getting lost. Yes, he was stoned most of the time (probably that three weeks he was writing, too!), but come on two stars -- which, BTW, dropped to one at the end of the review. Surely you can give it some cultural value? All this tight-a**ed, little naive $#&@%s that call themselves college students could benefit from a little "loosening of the goose," no?
-Chiron
I hated On the Road, and I hate Milan Kundera, as another poster does. I wonder if it's a male/female thing, as many male friends absolutely swear by On the Road, and Kundera too for that matter. Boring. Boring. Boring.
aww come on now! Kerouac's not the easiest read, I admit, and it's self-indulgent in the extreme, so I do understand why so many people dislike him. On the other hand, I always found that approaching On the Road as a very long poem really helped me understand what it was about and to appreciate its beauty. There is good stuff in there, for real!
I'm glad to see so many of you share my opinion on Kerouac!
Reviewstew, I tried to find the poetry in it, but I couldn't. I did better with that approach for Only Revolutions, which seemed more of a poem to me.
And, although I will get cyber-smacked for this, I kinda love Kundera's Unbearable Lightness of Being. Maybe it's the sentimentalist in me. There, I admitted it. I feel so free.
I too tried to read this book years ago when I was in junior high school. I don't know if I got through the thing, but if I did it was by sheer effort and the ability to withstand the pain of mind-numbing boredom of hashing through this mind-numbing verbal masturbation. All these beat writers are totally over-rated. None of them amounted to much. they were gimmicky. Old people cling to them because they want to think of themselves as having invented being cool. In fact, not much came out of that era that has any lasting value.
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