Incoherence and Coherence in Jack Kerouac

I’ve just finished a “double-read” of the audiobook of the Original Scroll of On the Road, read by John Ventimiglia.

 

By “Double-read” I mean this:  After finishing Book 1, I went back and listened to it a second time.  After Book 2, I did the same with it.  And so on.  So when I got to the end of the whole thing, I’d actually listened to the entire novel twice.  And the ending of most of the books impressed me so, I went back and listened to each of the endings multiple times.  This being at least the eighth time I’ve listened to an unabridged recording of either On The Road or the The Original Scroll thereof, I can say that I have now gotten quite deep into Kerouac, the novel, and Kerouac’s story,  approach and style.

I’ve picked up on a lot of details.  There’s a certain seeming incoherence here.  This certainly is why a lot of early critics considered Kerouac a “barbarian with a typewriter.”  And yet—should books be coherent?  Maybe not in all ways!  Because life is not particularly coherent, is it?

So if William Burroughs says “when you’re dead your just dead,” but a page or two later starts talking about communicating with the dead, should we object?

If people are discussing how Carolyn Cassady threw Neal Cassady out, how should we react a page or two later when Helen Hinkle says, “I think it was very wise of Luann to throw you out.”  I thought I had found a real blooper here—and maybe I have.  Or not!  When I noticed this in The Scroll, I ran over to the published novel to check.  The same apparent inconsistency appears there.  Real people do misspeak!

One thing I’ve noticed is that Kerouac really doesn’t talk much about his feelings.  He gives us his ideas, but not so much his feelings.  He gives us his reactions (his response to jazz, for example), but that isn’t the same thing.

I think this is why people often miss the underlying mood of the book.  The recent film concentrated on the sex and jazz; but underlying the entire book is a search for something to make up for the fact that Kerouac’s father is dead and Kerouac’s wife has left him.  Neal Cassady is always trying to connect with his own father and family.  Allen Ginsberg is always asking what the meaning of these travels are.  They all feel pursued by some presence.  And at the end of the book, an old man with long flowing white hair walks past Kerouac and says, “Go moan for man.” 

This is all stated, but not emphasized.  Implications are left for the reader to realize on his own.  Part of Kerouac’s Art is to simply mention these things, then leave us to notice them.  You can debate whether this artistic strategy is good or bad.

Writing, Life, Kerouac

Ah, but sometimes Life gets in the way of Writing, if we let it!  I’ve been busy here with life, work, staying healthy, etc.

 

On the other hand, one thing I could probably learn from Jack Kerouac is that you can always write.  I have the impression that Kerouac was always taking notes.  Whereas I tend to sit and brood, like Proust perhaps, storing up memories to put on paper another day.

Thing is, it’s hard sometimes to live with a pen and notepad in your hands!  Now, of course, it would be “with an iPad or whatever.”

But I’m back to Kerouac again, listening once more to the audiobook version of the original scroll of On the Road, read by John Ventimiglia.  I ask myself what draws me so to this book, this writer.

But something does.  This time, when I listened to Part One of the novel, which takes up about forty percent of the book, I discovered I was fascinated, not bored.  In the past I’ve often asked why Kerouac devoted so much time to this first section (of five) of the novel.  This time I kept lingering over individual descriptions.  At the end of Part One, I went back and played the entire book up till there all over a second time.

I’ve just done the same thing with Part Two.  I’m getting a much better sense of the structure of the story now.  People say nothing happens.  I’m more inclined to say that everything happens.  I’ve got to get to the bottom of what this is all about:  This book, and my attraction to it.

Meanwhile, I’ll go on to Part Three tomorrow.  We’ll see what happens.

Book Review: The Beauty of Men (Andrew Holleran)

As I’ve read The Beauty of Men over the past several months, I’ve been reading sections at our South Bay Writers Open Mic and commenting that “this book ought to be horribly depressing; but it’s so beautifully written that I keep reading.”
 

True—although it did take me awhile to finish.  I realized, after I got about halfway, that “nothing was happening.”  That’s a cliché, of course.  Peeved readers love to complain about how “nothing happens” in books like Kerouac’s On The Road.  But it seems to me, if writers are supposed to “show not tell,” then it isn’t a question of whether something “happens” or not.  It’s a question of whether the reader is being given an experience.  

I felt I was experiencing something in Holleran’s book.  With him, I always feel I’m experiencing something.  I may or may not like it—but that’s a separate question.

Lark, the protagonist in The Beauty of Men, has moved to Florida to care for his quadriplegic mother.  Behind him lies New York and the gay life of the late 1970s (portrayed in Holleran’s book Dancer from the Dance).

We share the experience of visiting the nursing home, and imagine what it must be like for his mother to have spent the last twelve years there.  And we experience what it is like for Lark to make his regular visits and to live now in Florida, after his endless partying in New York and the onset of the AIDS epidemic.  We’re carried back to those earlier times and we experience the deepening epidemic, which leads one to believe that “everyone is dying.”

Yet life goes on.  Lark hangs out by a boat ramp at an out-of-the-way lake, hoping to pick up men.  He does—and falls in love with a man who after one night refuses to have anything more to do with him.  Lark pines, Lark drives past the man’s home.  This goes on for a year.  Finally—around page 200 (spoiler!)—the man confronts him.

I love Holleran’s writing style.  This is what keeps me reading.  If you can read this without becoming depressed—and without insisting that something “happens,” this might be a good book for you.

"On The Road" – Film – Questions Before

So tonight, hopefully, is the night.  I finally see the film version of Jack Kerouac’s On The Road.  Afterwards, I suspect, I’ll feel extremely silly about all the postings I’ve done in anticipation of seeing it.  For, after all, how many people care the slightest bit about it?  Though some folks have been waiting fifty-plus years for this.

For the record, here are some of the things I’ll be watching for in the film.  If you’re a Kerouac fan, you might care too.

Watching for:

How much of the film is based on the scroll version rather than the finished book?

An overall theme.  In the book, Sal and friends sense someone walking towards them.  At the end of the book, an old man with long white hair walks past Kerouac in a parking lot and says, “Go moan for man.”  Is anything like this included in the movie?

Is Dean Moriarty presented as a new American saint, an irresponsible sociopath, or…?

The relationship between Mary Lou and Camille.  Kristen Stewart has suggested that her character (Mary Lou) is the pivot of the film.  But the novel exists in a tension between the two.

What is the role of Carlo Marx?   One film reviewer has said:  “Lose Carlo!”  Is Carlo a true prophet?  A true poet?  A bore?  Pretentious?

How do they handle that brothel scene in Mexico…?

Speaking of Mexico—How does the film portray minorities in general?  More specifically, Mexicans and Blacks?

What about sexism?  Do men utterly run the show?

How are the 1940s presented?  How well does the film represent the 1940s, and does it matter?  Though the book is set in 1947-51, most people associate it with the mid-to-late 1950s, when the book first appeared. 

How homo- or bi-sexual is the book?  How sexual is the relationship between Sal and Dean?

How does Old Bull Lee and family come across?  Funny??  Disturbing?  Simply weird?

Does the film include Sal’s vision, in San Francisco, of reincarnation and nonlinear time?

How does the film deal with Sal’s relationship to his mother?

How is America presented?

Does Dean care about anything besides sex and kicks?

How many people and events are cut out of the movie??

That’s it for now—we’ll see how I feel afterwards.

Anticipation: On The Road, The Film (2)

Still mad about the whole business of On The Road coming out everywhere else first—and then in the United States!  This quintessential American film comes to the United States last of all.  Well, technically not “last”—it will come out next year in Spain, Hungary, Argentina, and Hong Kong.  But it’s come out in twenty-one other countries first (and one more, if it really showed at the Marin Film Festival in October, which I can’t confirm.  Hey, my friends in Marin—Did any of you see it then??)

So all these “anticipations” of the film as we move up to the December 21^st U.S. release date probably seem pretty silly to folks in areas that have already gotten the film, months ago.  I know it premiered at Cannes in May, with a lengthy press conference.  I know it was in the running for awards there—but won nothing major.

I also see that it has now been trimmed a bit.  According to the IMDB (International Movie Database) it originally ran 2 hours and 17 minutes.  It now has been cut to 2 hours and 4 minutes.  Well, The Business does what it must.  Until I get to see both versions, I’ll be missing those additional thirteen minutes.

But that was always an issue with Kerouac, as with some others.  Whereas my other favorite writer, Christopher Isherwood, asks himself “Why am I telling them this?” Kerouac simply tells.  In his first published novel, The Town and the City (which I still have not read), Kerouac edited and rewrote extensively.  But after that he held to the ideal of “no revisions.”  I can see why some people would prefer to trim On The Road.  It can seem rambling and even pointless to some.

I notice, incidentally, that the film is described as “Action/Adventure/Drama.”  Well, PR has got to call it something.  I just hope that people new to Kerouac don’t come expecting something like Indiana Jones!

Oh, I feel a train wreck coming, but hope I’m wrong.  Just read a review on the IMDB that was not encouraging.  But of course I have to see the film just to find out.  I often disagree with reviewers.  And so we plunge on, towards finding out the truth.

It will be interesting in some way, no doubt.  I see opinions about sociology and demographics.  Hm.  Guess I’ll hang on for the ride!