froggerz40 said:
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It`s certainly not a "well crafted" writing style, but I guess his writing was necessarily fast. He wrote that his remembrances were written on the run, and not afterwords, in a sickbed. I think that if Kerouac were a painter, he`d have been an impressionist. If a musician, a free-form bop jazz-cat!
That's actually a myth that he promoted about himself. In recent years there have been several books about Kerouac that say he obsessively revised first drafts many many times, with heavy editing, to achieve the effect he was looking for. That's one of the reasons people who strive to imitate him on that model usually fail miserably.
JimMorrison said:
Novella- "But I'm not sure it's as true or relevant as it was. " Just curious why you say that?
While I agree with what funes says, I would draw an analogy to Edmund Hilary climing Mt. Everest. Sure, all those native Tibetan climbers were up there for generations before and kept it pristine and developed a natural ability to deal with that environment. Then along comes Mr. Whitey who hires a bunch of seasoned Tibetan climbers. They scale the mountain, plant the English flag, and the Western world thinks it's a big deal, like England has conquered the Himalayas. Decades later, there are troops of amateurs getting pulled up there with ropes, the trail is littered, literally, with shit, discarded oxygen tanks, dead bodies, and other garbage, which the climbers just pass by and tolerate. It's disgusting.
I think of going cross-country on a mission to find the real throbbing heart of America, the jazz and soul and real people of the country, in the 1950s as a real adventure, especially given that it was the first time that experience was really possible in a car and there was this huge weight of conservative politics stifling the main media. You read Kerouac as a historical document because of that.
Anyone who tries to do that now will have a cell phone, a credit card, a laptop, the internet with all its information on every tiny place on the globe, GPS, and a world waiting out there that will have certain experience and expectations and worldliness that didn't exist in the 50s. To say nothing of all the shit and dead bodies, metaphorically speaking, along the trail.
Kerouac is definitely worth a read, but I think he's misunderstood as a craftsman and also occupies a realm that is no longer available, no matter how far you travel.