Your are viewing a read-only archive of the old DiS boards. Please hit the Community button above to engage with the DiS !
in my opinion he's just a sexist talentless twat that got lucky, and I only really read him at all because there was a girl in the year above me at school that had a polo-necked sweater and thought she was cool, so I brought White Light/White Heat and some wrap-around shades, and sat in the dark reading the beat poets for days, and just ended up with a headache and thought oh my God, I'm only six months away from becoming a Goth, I've got spiked up hair and a permanent cough and I think I'm gonna die alone
then you definitely got lost somewhere along the way.
not as great as some of his buddies like Ginsberg or even Ferlinghetti but still a great, great writer. The Dharma Bums and Lonesome Traveller are beautiful.
followed by on the road, which i didn't like as much. i haven't been back since.
i don't mind kerouac really.
I think a lot of people misread it purely as some sort of mad-shaggin roadtrip story, when really its about a quest for some sort of spiritual contentment in a country with a massive spiritual vacuum, and the failure to find it. Or something.
or was too long, which might be the same thing in this case.
he's pretty really actually good
it's full of self-loathing and desperation, and it's about being a writer in his mid-40s with a burgeoning midriff and thinning hair, getting famous for a book he wrote years ago and lived its stories even further back. the line about 70s peaceniks arriving at his house and being disappointed by him is one of the saddest and at the same time funniest bit of literature i've read.
in short read big sur.