Beat, Beatnik, Beatific, Beatitude
–
The Influence of Kerouac
"I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life." ~ Jack Kerouac
It is amazing how much a piece of literature can influence your life. Your parents try. Your teachers try. Your preacher tries. Then, you reach a certain youthful age, and your out there experiencing life more fully than ever before, and trying to figure out how you want to live your life, and a piece of writing by a complete stranger compels you to take a certain direction. I was attending college in the early 1960′s with a life-long friend, Kendall McCook who was already keenly literate and working at becoming a writer. He told me about a book he had recently read that he said was a life-changer and part of a new movement in literature. The book was On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Trusting Kendall’s literary instincts, I immediately got a copy of the book and read it. I also was caught up in the writing style which Kerouac called “spontaneous prose” and the philosophy which was being called “Beat” as in beatnik or beatific, and beatitude. Kendall and I as well as many other people in our generation were highly influenced by Kerouac’s book.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center-light pop, and everybody goes ahh… Jack Kerouac On The Road
This quote reflects the type of thinking that resonated so much with us. We now knew that we would pursue the eccentric, the non-conformist, the interesting, the rebel, those who were said to be strange, weird, and outlandish. And, we wanted to be among the so-called “mad” people who burn, burn, burn. Kendall went on to write his master’s thesis based on Kerouac. We would go “on the road” at every opportunity we could find.
Jack Kerouac was from Lowell, Massachusetts and he was of French-Canadian heritage. He was always a ruggedly handsome guy and as a young man was very athletic. These are photos of him about the time he graduated from high school and then attended Columbia University on a football scholarship.
He left Columbia without graduating after meeting and becoming friends with a number of literary-minded young men who had influenced him to follow his dream of becoming a writer himself. This post is not intended to tell Kerouac’s entire story but to briefly tell how his thinking and writing had an influence on our lives.
Jack met and became friends with the mercurial Neal Cassady, and they set out on the road on an automobile trip across America to find belief, belonging, and a meaning in life. Photo of Cassady on left and Kerouac on the right.
The trip resulted in the autobiographical novel On the Road (1957), Kerouac’s second attempt at writing a book. Kerouac said he wrote in a style he had discovered that he called “bop prosody” or “spontaneous prose” which resembled writing the way a jazz musician improvises in music. It became a huge success among young readers who also were looking for some of the things Cassady and Kerouac were looking for. Quickly, Kerouac went from being unknown as a writer to being called the leader of “The Beat Movement” in literature and in American culture. He was really a quiet, shy, rather unassuming man who didn’t seek or enjoy fame. He hated being called the leader of the Beats and eventually came to dislike the direction that the Beat Movement was taking. Drugs and alcohol became a bigger and bigger refuge for him from the limelight. His life began to unravel. Much of the unraveling is documented in his books. I continued to read his writing and followed his journey. Dharma Bums, Mexico City Blues, The Subterraneans, Desolation Angels, and Big Sur are some of these books. The following photos illustrate to some degree the wear and tear on him.
He moved to Florida and became withdrawn and deeper into his alcoholism. He also became alienated from his former friends and peers in the Beat Literary Movement. And, as the Beat Movement evolved into the so-called Hippie Movement, he became more disenchanted with it all. At heart he was a patriotic American and never could understand or accept the anti-American attitude and view of many writers. He had once flirted with Buddhism, but now he clung to the saints of his Catholic upbringing. In 1968 his old friend Neal Cassady died on his final escapade down in Mexico after living out his legendary life. (A good read that reveals much about the life of Cassady is The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe.) Then, sadly, in 1969 Kerouac succumbed to a massive stomach hemorrhaging at the age of 47. His excessive use of alcohol had contributed to his early demise, but in many ways, he was a victim of the American culture’s need for heroes to worship and sometimes devour. Jack never sought to be a hero or to be worshipped. He only sought to be an excellent writer who wrote about the truth as he saw it.
This is my favorite photo of Kerouac taken when he still possessed his great vigor for life and was still passionately seeking the truth.
I am thankful for the mad people who have burned through my life. And, I’m glad that I also had my moments of being one of the mad ones myself. But, I grew weary and began to look for other things to experience in life. I realized that I didn’t want to burn out like a roman candle. I wanted to experience growing old along with some of my friends and family. Grandkids became the adventure. At one point my demons were winning the war, and I wanted to turn that around. In one of his novels Kerouac describes a morning he was suffering a terrible anxiety attack while sitting in a diner for breakfast. As his mind raced out of control, he suddenly said to himself, “Shut up and eat your eggs.” Good advice that I have tried to remember. Yes, Kerouac’s biggest influence was “raising my consciousness of life.” I’m glad that Kerouac influenced me when I was a young man trying to find belief, belonging, and a meaning in life, and I’m glad that he can still influence me in my golden years.