Kerouac

Now you just dig them in front. They have worries, they’re counting the miles, they’re thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they’ll get there – and all the time they’ll get there anyway, you see. But they need to worry and betray time with urgencies false and otherwise, purely anxious and whiny, their souls really won’t be at peace unless they can latch on to an established and proven worry and having once found it they assume facial expressions to fit and go with it, which is, you see, unhappiness, and all the time it all flies by them and they know it and that too worries them no end.

Dean Moriarty, in Jack Kerouac’s On The Road

This book brings you on a literary ride of such a breakneck speed that you can almost hear the whooosh in your ears. It is a narrative that borders on ramblings, but it is so exhilarating that you do not really care what it is – you just know that you want to have more where that came from. It makes you feel a little out of breath, but you will keep up because it is that good.

Someone should write something like this for our generation. After all, we are in a desperate need to be defined by well-written words.

But what exactly can be written of us? We are not as foolishly brave, or as recklessly crazy. We have too much but do too little. We want everything because quite frankly, we do not know what we want at all.

And we are bored. Can a generation of bored people make for a good subject to write about? Tragically, the odds are stacked against that.

***

Finding a book you love is sort of like finding love itself.

Sometimes, you have to give it time to grow. Wait out a draggy, uneventful beginning before something magnificent happens to turn it all around.

Other times, you fall so hard and so fast that you are left reeling from the experience with a silly grin on your face.

No matter how much we will ourselves to be adults in order to lower our hope that the latter will happen, we still cross our fingers that someone is going to sweep us off our feet. There is nothing kitsch or cliche about this – it is just what we want, against our will.

And I think it is okay to want that.

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2 thoughts on “Kerouac

  1. I love this paragraph of yours, “But what exactly can be written of us? We are not as foolishly brave, or as recklessly crazy. We have too much but do too little. We want everything because quite frankly, we do not know what we want at all.”
    The essence of our generation, so finely distilled.

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