Jack Kerouac goes on a journey to find the real America: In this novel, written in spontaneous prose, his alter ego Sal Paradise walks, hitchhikes, rides trains, cars, and greyhounds, all in pursuit of the American Dream. Aiming for the West and pushing the frontiers of post-WW II society, he is accompanied by his buddy and muse Dean Moriarty (modeled after the infamous Neal Cassady), chasing sex, drugs, bebop and, yes, spiritual enlightenment.

"(...) 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 (...) - those guys didn't give a damn about the mores and morals of 1950's America, they were living it up, and many scenes reflect real events, just as many characters reflect real people (can you spot William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg in the text?).

It's pointless to try and recount the storyline of the book, because it's all about the journey Sal undertakes: The road connects the manifold vignettes that mainly focus on the working class and the counter culture, certainly not the rich and the powerful. Kerouac, a former football player at Columbia, dropped out of college in search of authenticity, skeptical of an elitism that is based on exclusion. So did the Beats get it right? Certainly not in all respects, but hell, they were fearless - and that makes for bold literature. Beat down, upbeat, beatific - they wanted it all, always moving, always burning.

If you want to learn more about Beat literature (plus a little Gonzo), you can listen to our podcast special here (in German).

HIGHWAY 66 REVISITED


Jack Kerouac=John Heard, Neal Cassady=Nick Nolte, Carolyn Cassady=Sissy Spacek. Il film è del 1980, diretto da John Byrum e si chiama “Heart Beat”.

Letto da adolescente conteneva la voglia di movimento e cambiamento che era in me. La rabbia e la ribellione. La gioventù e l’amore.
Parlava la mia lingua, parlava a me direttamente. Era quello che avrei voluto sentir dire ai miei amici, e quello che avrei voluto dire ai miei amici.
Fu uno shock. Un trauma molto bello e piacevole.

-Dobbiamo andare e non fermarci finché non siamo arrivati.
-Dove andiamo?
-Non lo so, ma dobbiamo andare.



Fu vera gloria?
Non lo so. Allora, in quegli anni, subito dopo questo ne feci seguire un altro paio di Kerouac – ricordo Big Sur perché ero affascinato dal nome e dal luogo. Mai ritrovata la stessa voce, la stessa musica.
Negli anni a seguire ho incontrato tante voci che di Kerouac si facevano beffe: un personaggio, più che uno scrittore, dicevano.
Non lo so. Mi tengo l’amore per questo libro e per ciò che per me ha rappresentato: il battito del cuore. Heart Beat.


”On the Road” di Walter Salles, 2012. Dove Sal Paradise/Jack Kerouac è Sam Riley, Dean Moriarty/Neal Cassady è Garrett Hedlund, e Kristen Stewart interpreta Marylou.

I read this backwards, which wasn't as bad a time as you might expect, sort of like a dated Choose-Your-Own-Adventure novelization of a fever dream.

I did BEGIN reading it forwards, and swapped at around page 50, when I read a review that said it had a terrific last line. What to say that hasn't already been said? It's a classic; I know more than one person with a Kerouac tattoo; I wanted to be able to spell his last name correctly every time; I wanted to have my eyes on it.

I am not getting a Kerouac tattoo, but I feel I understand everyone in my life with one better now.

HIGHWAY 66 REVISITED


Jack Kerouac=John Heard, Neal Cassady=Nick Nolte, Carolyn Cassady=Sissy Spacek. Il film è del 1980, diretto da John Byrum e si chiama “Heart Beat”.

Letto da adolescente conteneva la voglia di movimento e cambiamento che era in me. La rabbia e la ribellione. La gioventù e l’amore.
Parlava la mia lingua, parlava a me direttamente. Era quello che avrei voluto sentir dire ai miei amici, e quello che avrei voluto dire ai miei amici.
Fu uno shock. Un trauma molto bello e piacevole.

-Dobbiamo andare e non fermarci finché non siamo arrivati.
-Dove andiamo?
-Non lo so, ma dobbiamo andare.



Fu vera gloria?
Non lo so. Allora, in quegli anni, subito dopo questo ne feci seguire un altro paio di Kerouac – ricordo Big Sur perché ero affascinato dal nome e dal luogo. Mai ritrovata la stessa voce, la stessa musica.
Negli anni a seguire ho incontrato tante voci che di Kerouac si facevano beffe: un personaggio, più che uno scrittore, dicevano.
Non lo so. Mi tengo l’amore per questo libro e per ciò che per me ha rappresentato: il battito del cuore. Heart Beat.


”On the Road” di Walter Salles, 2012. Dove Sal Paradise/Jack Kerouac è Sam Riley, Dean Moriarty/Neal Cassady è Garrett Hedlund, e Kristen Stewart interpreta Marylou.

(Book 484 from 1001 1001 books) - On the Road, Jack Kerouac

Based on the travels of Kerouac and his friends across the United States.

The two main characters of the book are the narrator, Sal Paradise, and his friend Dean Moriarty, much admired for his carefree attitude and sense of adventure, a free-spirited maverick eager to explore all kicks and an inspiration and catalyst for Sal's travels.

The novel contains five parts, three of them describing road trips with Dean Moriarty.

The narrative takes place in the years 1947 to 1950, is full of Americana, and marks a specific era in jazz history, "somewhere between its Charlie Parker Ornithology period and another period that began with Miles Davis."

The novel is largely autobiographical, Sal Paradise being the alter ego of the author and Dean Moriarty standing for Neal Cassady.

عنوانها: «در جاده»؛ «در راه»؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روزبیست و یکم ماه نوامبر سال 2015میلادی

عنوان: در راه؛ نویسنده: جک کرواک؛ مترجم: احسان نوروزی؛ تهران، نشر چشمه، 1394؛ در 388ص؛ شابک 9789643625245؛ چاپ دوم سال1395؛ چاپ هفتم 1399؛ در 392ص؛ موضوع زندگینامه و سرگذشتنامه از نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده 20م

عنوان: در جاده؛ نویسنده: جک ��رواک؛ مترجم: یاشین آزادبیگی؛ تهران، کوله پشتی، 1394؛ در 540ص؛ شابک 9786008211242؛

کتاب، در سال 1957میلادی، برای نخستین بار، توسط «وایکینگ پرس» منتشر شد؛ عنوانش، جزو یکصد کتاب سده ی بیستم میلادی، به گزینش بسیاری از روزنامه ها بوده، خودزندگی‌نامه‌ نوشت است، و حاصل تجربیات «کرواک»، در دیدار با مردمِان سرتاسر «آمریکا» است؛ روایت سفر «اودیسه­» وار جوانی، به نام «سالواتوره پارادایز (سل، سلی)» است، نویسنده ­ای که پس از جدایی از همسرش، سرخورده، و افسرده، بر آن میشود، تا دلش را به دست جاده­ های «آمریکا» بسپارد، و می­کوشد از آنراه، مفهومی برای زندگی پوچ خویش، بیابد؛ در راه، با جوانی کوچکتر از خویش، به نام «دین موریارتی» آشنا می­شود، و تحت تاثیر دیوانه­ بازی­ها، و مرام آشوب­گرانه ی­ او، قرار می­گیرد؛ «دین موریارتی» نیز، در لابلای آن همه هیاهو، هدفی مهم­تر دارد، و آن، یافتنِ پدر گمشده ی خویش است، که با نام «دین موریارتیِ پیر»، از او یاد می­شود

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 30/06/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 27/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

I've been thinking about this book a lot lately, so I figured that I'd go back and write something about it.

When I first read this book, I loved it as a piece of art, but its effect on me was different than I expected. So many people hail Kerouac as the artist who made them quit their jobs and go to the road, become a hippie or a beat and give up the rest. When I read it though, I had been completely obsessed with hippie culture for a long time, and it caused me to steer away from it for a while. While I thought that it would be a rollicking tale of freedom and glory, I found that all of Dean's conquests were tainted by the fact that he had to take advantage of other people every step of the way. He was a hugely entertaining character, but would have been a terrible friend, lover, or even acquaintance. From the women he married to gas station attendents, right down to Sal Paradise himself, Dean drained everything that he was right out of other people, and it eventually ruined him. It left him beat...not heart beating exhilarated, but beat up, dead beat and alone. Once I stepped back a little from the awe at Dean's greatness, this book was really sad, and it caused me to put away that romanticism for a while.

Now, 2 years later, though, On the Road is coming back to me full on. I didn't escape the total wonder at the Beats and the road. I have been on the road myself for the last 2 months and have a long way to go before I get back home, and I am constantly aware that the the way was paved by Kerouac and the rest of the crazy geniuses of his generation. The road is every bit as romantic as Sal Paradise made it out to be, and its glory far out weighs the short comings of Dean as a friend. I mean, the road is a lot like Dean, it takes a lot out of you, but you get addicted to it and obsessed with it and can't let it go, and I don't think there's any other way about it. I am in love with America for the first time. Now that I've seen it, driven across and up and down, around and over America, I find it sublime and incredible. I think that Kerouac and his friends might've been the first to see that. Maybe not. Maybe they are just part of all of American history...they translated the world of Western expansion and canvas covered wagons into the way of the modern world. America is something to dream about. It is worthy every exuberant and formerly offensive "I'm proud" sticker that's plastered on the back of a pick up truck. And Kerouac saw that first hand. So, it seems, that there is a certain tragedy in this book, but that it is less important than the unavoidable glory that you come to associate with the road and freedom after following these guys on their crazy adventure. I think this book should be read by everyone who wants to know about America.

I don't wish to be hyperbolic, but Jack Kerouac may be (unwittingly) responsible for the national standard "The Ugly American." Believe me, I SO want to drink in the carpe diem, exploratory life-lust, but his rampant, self-indulgent Id-fest left many women, friends, and strangers in its wounded wake. His women are two-dimensional, holy-whore fan-bots; his friends are so much hog twaddle compared to his idol Dean; and his pursuit of adventure required much theft to fund it (even though he was a college grad and published writer who could have saved a buck to pay for it). I'm reminded of Louisa May Alcott's "Transcendental Wild Oats," in which the men lounged by the fire smoking pipes and waxing philosophic, while the women washed the clothes, cooked the food, and tended the crops. My modern mind looks at sleeping with 15-year-old Mexican prostitutes as morally questionable; my soccer-mom mentality sees knocking up women across the nation and leaving them to raise the chillen as "trashy"; my Hilary sensibility says, "stealing cars is wrong!" And yet... His magical, stream-of-consciousness description of America's many regions is transformative; his love of jazz, mad friends, and life is admirable; his optimism is so young and vital! And who on this planet would say Des Moines has the most beautiful women?! I want to read the original scroll (to be published this September) to see if it is populated with LESS of Dean "Wow!"s and "Yes!"ses, and MORE of the immediacy of life impressions (by the deletion of commas, religious references, and pseudonyms). I give this book a "3" because it was egocentric; I give it a "3" because it touched me.

“Non facevamo altro che girare da una parte all’altra con gli amici e ubriacarci”

Per me 311 pagine di libro si possono riassumere con queste 2 righe che ho letto a pagina 270.

Una banda di cialtroni, alcolizzati e nullafacenti che vagano da una parte all’altra del paese, fino a quando non finiscono i soldi, quindi o si mettono a lavorare provvisoriamente, in attesa di ripartire oppure scomodano la famigerata “zia d’America” che immancabilmente ci mette una pezza.

Forse vi starete chiedendo perché non ho abbandonato.
La risposta è semplice amici: sono deficiente.

I've never read a more taxing classic in my life. The premise of this book was interesting enough since I love any book with a road trip involved however, when I got into this book, I felt like tearing my hair out.

On The Road basically follows a privileged white, middle class male who goes on a trip across America and Mexico following a mentally disturbed individual named Dean Moriarty just because he has nothing better to do and wants to find "it," an elusive way of life that only the Beat Generation could fathom at the time. The narrative is written in this mixture of stream of conscious meets jazz meets utter bullcrap, which makes it extremely hard to read and even harder to want to pick up again if you put it down. I don't want to harp too hard on this book, but I sincerely disliked it. Truthfully, this is the first time I've ever found myself patiently hoping that one of the main characters (ahem....Dean) dies in the end of the book.

I'm glad I finished this book since I now feel accomplished, but I do wish I could get the hours spent reading it back. I would not recommend this book and don't have the faintest idea as to why anyone would see this as a worthwhile classic. All I can say is good riddance and good day to this book. I will gladly turn it back into the library and never bother reading it again since even listening to the audiobook didn't help make the book palatable.

Dean Moriarty: *abandons his wife and newborn baby, cons people, steals cars, gets turned on by young girls, drives recklessly, does lots of drugs, gets into accidents, puts people’s lives in danger, never expresses remorse, gets multiple women pregnant, cheats on all his three wives, is being an overall total scumbag*
Sal: haha, what a guy, the only people for me are the mad ones

هرچند در این کتاب، جک کرواک کمتر به کوله گردی و هیچ هایک پرداخته اما نسبت به کتاب (ولگردهای دارما ) دیوانگی های این کتاب بسیار بیشتر است. اعتراف می کنم که به اندازه دین در این کتاب دیوانه نیستم، و همین طور که در کتاب نشون میده این دیوانگی اورا در آستانه فروپاشی قرار میده( من بهش میگم جنون سفر)، ولی می تونم بگم به اندازه سَل دیوانه سفر و تجربه کردن هستم.
این کتاب بیشتر از اینکه یک داستان باشه مجموعه ای از 5 سفر هست که تنها نقطه مشترک اونها شخصیت ها هستند.
در آخر می تونم بگم که این کتاب قصد بیان کردن یک حرف و داره : گوربابای قواعد دست و پاگیر زندگی سفر و بچسب 

Читати «В дорозі» зараз ніяково. Я ще можу зрозуміти, чому ця книжка подобалась естетично й вплинула на ціле покоління, але ж етично це повна катастрофа. Повоєнна рутина життя американського середнього класу може і навівала нудьгу, та альтернатива у вигляді двох друзів-пияків, які намагаються втекти від розв'язання проблем, які створюють собі й навколишнім, пересуваючись на великі відстані Сполученими Штатами не викликає особливого співчуття. Це не тільки дослідження меж особистої свободи, як нас попереджає видавнича анотація Комубука, але і дослідження меж особистої безвідповідальності. І це навіть якщо на час забути про небезпідставні закиди в мізогінії, расизмі тощо. Та, заради справедливості, пізніші книжки Керуака трохи кращі.