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On the Road (Duluoz Legend)

by Jack Kerouac

3.64 · Rating details · 278,863 Ratings · 12,054 Reviews

On the Road chronicles Jack Kerouac's years traveling the North American continent with his friend Neal Cassady, "a sideburned hero of the snowy West." As "Sal Paradise" and "Dean Moriarty," the two roam the country in a quest for self-knowledge and experience. Kerouac's love of America, his compassion for humanity, and his sense of language as jazz combine to make On the

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Paperback, 307 pages

Published January 1st 1976 by Penguin Books (first published 1955)

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Community Reviews

(showing 1-30)

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Sep 29, 2007 Jessica rated it did not like it

Recommends it for: fourteen-year-old assholes

Shelves: bad-reads, dicklits

This is probably the worst book I have ever finished, and I'm forever indebted to the deeply personality-disordered college professor who assigned it, because if it hadn't been for that class I never would've gotten through, and I gotta tell you, this is the book I love to hate.

I deeply cherish but don't know that I fully agree with Truman Capote's assessment: that _On the Road_ "is not writing at all -- it's typing."

Lovely, Turman, but let's be clear: typing by itself is fairly innocuous -- thi ...more

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Apr 24, 2007 Adam rated it did not like it

Shelves: fiction

I'm supposed to like On the Road, right? Well, I don't. I hate it and I always have. There are a lot of reasons why I hate it. I find Kerouac's attitude toward the world pathetically limited and paternalistic. In On the Road he actually muses about how much he wishes that he could have been born "a Negro in the antebellum South," living a simple life free from worry, and does so seemingly without any sense of irony. On every page, the book is about how Kerouac (a young, white, middle-class, so ...more

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Feb 25, 2011 Ian "Marvin" Grayeway rated it really liked it

Shelves: reviews

A View from the Couch

OTR has received some negative reviews lately, so I thought I would try to explain my rating.

This novel deserves to lounge around in a five star hotel rather than languish in a lone star saloon.

Disclaimer

Please forgive my review. It is early morning and I have just woken up with a sore head, an empty bed and a full bladder.

Confesssion

Let me begin with a confession that dearly wants to become an assertion.

I probably read this book before most of you were born.

So there!

Wouldn' ...more

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Sep 30, 2012 Samadrita rated it did not like it · review of another edition

Recommends it for: white heterosexual males

Shelves: timeless-classics, not-worth-it, in-by-about-america, loathed-this-book, 1001-and-more

This is the book which has given me anxiety attacks on sleepless nights.
This is the book which has glared at me from its high pedestal of classical importance in an effort to browbeat me into finally finishing it.
And this is that book which has shamed me into feigning an air of ignorance every time I browsed any of the countless 1001-books-to-read-before-you-die lists.

Yes Jack Kerouac, you have tormented me for the past 3 years and every day I couldn't summon the strength to open another page o ...more

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Jun 09, 2007 Jahn Sood rated it really liked it

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 whil 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. ...more

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Dec 21, 2007 Jacob rated it liked it

I read On The Road when I was 16. When I was 16, I was so depressed. I went to a high school that had a moat around it and a seige mentality. On The Road made me not depressed. In fact ... it made me want to hitchhike, hop freight trains, and more importantly to write. If I were still 16 I would give On The Road 5 stars. I would say, go! Go! Read this book and be mad for life, delirious, exploding outward into the big uncovered road! Consume vanilla ice cream and apple pie. Drink black coffee. F ...more

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Jul 16, 2016 Michael Finocchiaro rated it it was amazing · review of another edition

Shelves: fiction, american-20th-c, beat-lit, favorites, novels

Kerouac's masterpiece breathes youth and vigor for the duration and created the American bohemian "beat" lifestyle which has been the subject of innumerable subsequent books, songs, and movies. I have read this at least two or three times and always feel a bit breathless and invigorated because of the restlessness of the text and the vibrance of the characters. There was an extraordinary exhibit at the Pompidou Center earlier this year where the original draft in Kerouac's handwriting was laid o ...more

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Jan 08, 2012 Adam rated it did not like it

Shelves: 1900-1969, prose

Although the ideas hold a certain appeal, this book is ultimately just a half-assed justification of some pretty stupid, self-destructive, irresponsible, and juvenile tendencies and attitudes, the end result of which is a validation of being a deadbeat loser, a perpetual child. This validation is dressed up as a celebration of freedom etc.

As literary art, stylistically, the book is pretty bad. The analogies to bebop or even free jazz are misguided. That improvisation was by talented musicians, Although the ideas hold a certain appeal, this book is ultimately just a half-assed justification of some pretty stupid, self-destructive, irresponsible, and juvenile tendencies and attitudes, the end result of which is a validation of being a deadbeat loser, a perpetual child. This validation is dressed up as a celebration of freedom etc.

As literary art, stylistically, the book is pretty bad. The analogies to bebop or even free jazz are misguided. That improvisation was by talented musicians, or at least musicians who understood music, had a remarkable ear. Kerouac is just rambling and he thinks that qualifies as the literary equivalent of jazz improv. It doesn't. It's just tiresome. DeLillo's prose is an example of prose that more accurately can be described as analogous to bebop.

I'm not going to hold it against anyone that they like this book. I know that it influenced some important and serious artists, who were many times Kerouac's superiors. I understand its appeal, and even its historical importance. But reading it today, and not being 16 anymore, it really is a bit of a joke.

Its importance in itself, too, has faded. The Beats live on as myth that surpasses, for the most part, their actual output in both resonance and quality. Moreover, their myth has been adapted, especially in popular music, so well that it has rendered a lot of their actual work trivial, especially the lesser Beats (in terms of talent), eg. Kerouac. Nobody needs to read On the Road anymore, and all it's going to do is perpetuate some pretty idiotic notions we already have enough of, and lead to a lot of ripoffs of ripoffs of Whitman thinking their poetry is important and crowding bars I don't want to have to see them at.

Just look at contemporary literature, the voices we have, the stuff that's selling well on the literary market. A lot of that stuff is just workshop fiction that isn't going to last long in particular well-regard, but a lot of it is brilliant stuff, and far more literate, intelligent, and interesting than what this guy had to offer.

This book's time is up. Aside from youth clinging to a false nostalgia for a nonexistent time and place and crowd, its appeal is pretty much done too. ...more

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Jan 24, 2017 Katerina rated it really liked it

Recommended to Katerina by: Eliasdgian

Shelves: classics

“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.”

I am not really into classics.
I always preferred the fantasy genre, due to an innate escapism, a vivid imagination and a constant longing for magic. But as you may tell, I didn't cast spells while reading On the Road. I didn't climb the dark wizard's tower, nor heard prophecies whispered in the dark. I set my sword aside for a while, and hushed my heart's desire to experience passionate romances. After a dear friend's rav ...more

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Mar 08, 2009 Sparrow rated it liked it

Recommended to Sparrow by: Erica

Shelves: memoir-biography

The other day I was talking to someone and he said, “Well, I’m no pie expert . . . Wait! No! I am a pie expert. I am an expert at pie!”

Another person asked, “How did you become a pie expert?”

“One time I ate only pie for an entire week. I was driving across the country with my buddies, and we decided to eat only pie.”

“Like Jack Kerouac in On the Road!” I said.

“Yes! Exactly! That’s exactly what we were doing. We were reading On the Road, and we decided he was so smart when he realized pie is the ...more

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May 27, 2011 Fabian rated it it was ok

Herein lies that gnarly root of the all-American Sense of Entitlement. Coupling this with "Huck Finn" as THE quintessential American Novel is one Enormous mistake: Twain at least entertains, at least follows through with his intention, with his American take on the Quixotean legend; Kerouac might just be the biggest literary quack of the 20th century! The book is awkward, structured not as ONE single trip, but composed of a few coast-to-coast coastings, all having to do with this (now) overused ...more

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Sep 12, 2010 Mike Puma rated it liked it · review of another edition

Shelves: 2010, ugh

I tried; I really tried. Everything was telling me—I was telling me—this is one I’m going to like. Instead, I got Pablum for the Young Rebel Soul. I suspect I approached this novel with the same myopic nostalgia that, occasionally, contributes to the delusion that young people who are just getting their driver’s licenses and I are ‘roughly’ the same age. More random thoughts to follow.

So you want to write a novel, huh? But, dammit, you just don’t know how to start? No problem, man; it’s cool, da ...more

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Apr 16, 2007 karen rated it it was ok · review of another edition

Shelves: books-everyone-loves-but-me

in september, this book will turn sixty years old! while i do not care for it personally, and the celebration of a couple of self-satisfied pseudo-intellectual doofuses and their buffet-style spirituality traveling across the country, leaving a number of pregnancies in their wake and exploiting underage mexican prostitutes makes me wonder why this book endures, endure it does. so i have made a road trip booklist with less ickiness and more cannibalism. enjoy!

https://www.rifflebooks.com/list/2374 ...more

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Feb 03, 2017 Matthew rated it really liked it · review of another edition

Shelves: classic, library, audio, 2017

This was a 4 star book based on what it represents, the history of the genre, and my enjoyment of travel.

From the get go, this is a stream of consciousness romp through North America. It seems like almost every city in the United States is mentioned at least once as Sal Paradise tells of his travels, the people he meets, those who join him, and his wild vagabond companion Dean Moriarity. I don't feel like the style of this book will appeal to everyone and I can easily see many losing interest p This was a 4 star book based on what it represents, the history of the genre, and my enjoyment of travel.

From the get go, this is a stream of consciousness romp through North America. It seems like almost every city in the United States is mentioned at least once as Sal Paradise tells of his travels, the people he meets, those who join him, and his wild vagabond companion Dean Moriarity. I don't feel like the style of this book will appeal to everyone and I can easily see many losing interest part way in. But, if you are a fan of travelling in America, a scholar of literary genres, a hipster, and/or grew up in the 50s travelling the great American highways before interstates, you will find something in here for you.

There is also a lot of jazz influence in the writing. Several times the writing comes to a stop for an onomatopoedic side trip to a jazz club. This was especially interesting as I was listening to the audio.

Dean Moriarity - if nothing else, this book is worth it for Dean. The fact that Dean was based on a real person (Kerouac's friend Neal Cassady) makes his hijinks and destructive personality even more interesting. I am sure that he is a character that is idolized by some who read this, which is a bit scary! (Reminds me of those who idolize Alexander Supertramp from Into the Wild)

An interesting thing that happened while listening to this is twice I thought "this is reminding me of Hemingway" and less than a minute later, Hemingway is mentioned. It really reminded me of The Sun Also Rises and Wkipedia mentions that Kerouac did intentionally use the style of that book for On The Road.

Finally, as mentioned above, Kerouac based this on his life While listed as fiction, up until the final draft, the main characters had real names. The draft the Kerouac used was on long scroll without formatting or paragraph breaks. I mentioned the jazz influence and Kerouac apparently used the scroll in this way to mimic improvisational jazz. Sometimes the scroll can be seen on display - see photo below:

All in all a very interesting book with very interesting characters and a very interesting history. ...more

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May 06, 2008 Lostinanovel rated it really liked it

I personally can't stand the characters. They cover up irresponsibility and real hurt to people in the guise of being artists. However, I do think there is more to this story.

Sure, they are jerks and they are bums and they are full of a lot of BS but as the book progresses, it becomes clear that they know it. These guys are also WW2 vets, and very dissimilar to the hippies who follow them, they do not have any anti-American or anti-establishment feelings. Also, they show a deep remorse and guilt ...more

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Nov 21, 2012 Ahmad Sharabiani rated it it was amazing · review of another edition

Shelves: biography, classic, novel, literature, 1001-book, american, 20th-century

484 - On the Road, Jack Kerouac
عنوانها: در جاده؛ در راه؛
عنوان: در راه؛ نویسنده: جک کرواک؛ مترجم: احسان نوروزی؛ تهران، نشر چشمه، 1394؛ در 388 ص؛ شابک: 9789643625245؛ چاپ دوم 1395؛ موضوع: زندگینامه و سرگذشتنامه قرن 20 م
عنوان: در جاده؛ نویسنده: جک کرواک؛ مترجم: یاشین آزادبیگی؛ تهران، کوله پشتی، 1394؛ در 540 ص؛ شابک: 9786008211242؛
کتاب عنوانش جزو صد کتاب قرن بیستم به انتخاب بسیاری از روزنامه ها بوده، خودزندگینامه نوشت است و حاصل تجربیات کرواک، در ملاقات با مردم سرتاسر آمریکا ست ...more

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Apr 15, 2011 J-sin rated it did not like it

Pardon me while I write a scathing review for this book in the style of Kerouac, the Rambler.

I really don't understand why this book is considered a classic. I think of it as nothing more than a diary written by a man who was soused all of the time and whose brain could not understand structure and the unwritten rules of writing. It's incoherent, rambles on for days, and the "style" is distracting and annoying enough that reading even a page makes me yearn to kick somebody's puppy. And I like pu ...more

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Apr 29, 2011 Jason Koivu rated it really liked it

Shelves: fiction

They're just good ol' boys never meaning no harm, making their way the only way they know how, but that's just a bit more than the law will allow...

The characters of Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty in Jack Kerouac's On the Road are 20th Century equivalents of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer: boys having joyous American adventures. Sal and Dean trip (in more ways than one) back and forth from the east coast to the west, and down south even as far as Mexico, always looking to get their kicks. It's a free- ...more

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Jan 04, 2017 sweet jane rated it it was amazing · review of another edition

Shelves: favorites

"Τι είναι αυτό το συναίσθημα που σας σφίγγει όταν φεύγετε με τ'αμάξι αφήνοντας πίσω σας ανθρώπους που τους βλέπετε να μικραίνουν μέσα στη πεδιάδα μέχρι που τελικά εξαφανίζονται; Είναι ο απέραντος δρόμος που μας βαραίνει κι είναι ο αποχαιρετισμός."

Δεν ξέρω από που να αρχίσω. Ψέματα. Ξέρω.
Από την εφηβεία μου γυροφέρνω αυτό το βιβλίο και όλο το αναβάλω. Όλοι οι γνωστοί και φίλοι (με μοναδική εξαίρεση τον πατέρα μου και έναν πολύ καλό μου φίλο) είχαν παράπονα από το βιβλίο. Το παρατούσαν στη μέση, δ "Τι είναι αυτό το συναίσθημα που σας σφίγγει όταν φεύγετε με τ'αμάξι αφήνοντας πίσω σας ανθρώπους που τους βλέπετε να μικραίνουν μέσα στη πεδιάδα μέχρι που τελικά εξαφανίζονται; Είναι ο απέραντος δρόμος που μας βαραίνει κι είναι ο αποχαιρετισμός."

Δεν ξέρω από που να αρχίσω. Ψέματα. Ξέρω.
Από την εφηβεία μου γυροφέρνω αυτό το βιβλίο και όλο το αναβάλω. Όλοι οι γνωστοί και φίλοι (με μοναδική εξαίρεση τον πατέρα μου και έναν πολύ καλό μου φίλο) είχαν παράπονα από το βιβλίο. Το παρατούσαν στη μέση, δυσκολεύονταν, έβρισκαν ανούσιο το θέμα του. Τους καταλαβαίνω. Η γραφή δεν είναι εύκολη και το θέμα του επαναλαμβάνεται από ένα σημείο και μετά. Σε κάποια σημεία είναι κουραστικό, ενώ σε κάποια άλλα είναι έτσι δοσμένη η αφήγηση που χάνεσαι. Πολλά ονόματα, πολλοί τόποι, πολλοί δρόμοι. Κι όμως. Το σπουδαίο με αυτό το βιβλίο είναι ότι οι ίδιοι λόγοι που μπορεί να σε κουράσουν μπορεί να σε κάνουν και να το λατρέψεις. Εγώ το λάτρεψα.

"Αλλά τότε πήγαιναν χορεύοντας μέσα στους δρόμους σαν τρελοί και σερνόμουν από πίσω τους όπως κάνω σε όλη μου τη ζωή για ανθρώπους που μ΄ ενδιαφέρουν, γιατί οι μόνοι άνθρωποι που υπάρχουν για μένα είναι οι τρελοί, αυτοί που είναι τρελοί για ζωή, τρελοί για κουβέντα, τρελοί να σωθούν, που θέλουν να τα χαρούν όλα μέσα σε μία και μόνο στιγμή, αυτοί που ποτέ δεν χασμουριούνται, ή λένε ένα κοινότοπο πράγμα, αλλά που καίγονται, καίγονται όμοιοι με τις κίτρινες μυθικές φωτιές των ρωμαϊκών πυρσών, εκπυρσοκροτώντας σαν πυροτεχνήματα ανάμεσα στ' άστρα..."

Αυτά είναι τα λόγια του Σαλ, του πρωταγωνιστή μας, ο οποίος με παρέα ή χωρίς οργώνει όλη τη χώρα με αμάξι. Το βιβλίο δεν έχει υπόθεση, είναι μονάχα οι περιπέτειες στις πόλεις που συναντά, τους ανθρώπους που γνωρίζει και τα ευτράπελα στα οποία μπλέκεται. Πότε οτοστόπερ και πότε συνοδηγός του φίλου του, Ντην, ο Σαλ εξερευνά τα τέσσερα σημεία του ορίζοντα σε μία χώρα που όσο μεγάλη και αν φαίνεται δεν τον χωράει. Ερωτεύεται, πίνει, μιλάει για βιβλία που του αρέσουν, γράφει, ζητάει δανεικά για να μπορεί να συνεχίσει και συνεχίζει. Είναι ωραίος τύπος ο Σαλ, γιατί έχει συνειδητοποιήσει κάτι που εμείς έχουμε ξεχάσει πια. Ο δρόμος είναι η ζωή.

Ολόκληρο το μυθιστόρημα είναι ένα μανιφέστο γύρω από την ελευθερία, από την ανάγκη του ανθρώπου να το σκάσει από τους τοίχους που τον πνίγουν και να βρεθεί στους ανοιχτούς χώρους και τις ανοιχτές αγκαλιές που πρέπει να βρίσκεται. Ο Κέρουακ στα λέει όλα αυτά δίχως φαμφάρες και μελοδραματισμούς. Σου δείχνει απλά την ζωή και σε καλεί να προχωρήσεις στον δικό σου δρόμο είτε είναι ο Route 66 είτε η Εγνατία Οδός (την πέταξα την σαχλαμάρα μου δεν κρατήθηκα!).

Είναι όμως, όπως είπα και στην αρχή, ένα δύσκολο βιβλίο. Όχι σαφώς από νοηματική άποψη, αλλά από την θεματολογία και την εκτέλεση του. Θέλεις χρόνο για να χωνέψεις τον ποιητικό αλλά και χειμαρρώδη λόγο του Κέρουακ και σίγουρα μετά το δεύτερο road trip θες να δεις και κάτι άλλο στην πλοκή. Παρόλα αυτά, αξίζει σίγουρα να διαβαστεί. Δεν αποτελεί αυθαίρετα το ευαγγέλιο της beat generation και ούτε πρόκειται για μύθο η επιρροή αυτού του έργου σε μια ολόκληρη γενιά. Τείνω να πιστεύω μάλιστα πως αν και η δική μου γενιά είχε τέτοιες (λογοτεχνικές και μη) επιρροές θα ήταν πολύ καλύτερη.

*Κανονικά το βιβλίο θα έπαιρνε τέσσερα αστεράκια, γιατί υπάρχουν βαλτώδη σημεία, ο Κέρουακ όμως στόχευσε με την βαλλίστρα του το μήλο στο κεφάλι μου και έπεσε διάνα, η απόδειξη είναι το παρακάτω απόσπασμα:

"Αυτοί οι άνθρωποι ήταν αναμφίβολα Ινδιάνοι και δεν είχαν τίποτα κοινό με τους Πέντρος και τους Πάντσος του ηλίθιου φολκλόρ της εκπολιτισμένης Αμερικής – έχουν εξογκωμένα μήλα και σχιστά μάτια και υπερβολικά γλυκούς τρόπους· δεν ήταν τρελοί, δεν ήταν καραγκιόζηδες· ήταν Ινδιάνοι γεμάτοι μεγαλείο και σοβαρότητα, ήταν η πηγή του ανθρώπινου είδους και οι πατέρες του. Η θάλασσα είναι κινέζικη, μα η γη ινδιάνικη. Ακλόνητοι όπως οι βράχοι στην έρημο, είναι και αυτοί μέσα στην έρημο της <<ιστορίας>>. Και το γνωρίζουν αυτό καθώς εμείς περνούμε, σαν ψηλομύτες, λεφτάδες και ατομιστές Αμερικάνοι που έρχονται να γλεντήσουν στα χώματά τους· ήξεραν ποιος είναι ο πατέρας και ποιος ο γιός της παμπάλαιας ζωής πάνω σε αυτή τη γη και απέφευγαν κάθε είδους σχόλιο."

Χίλια μπράβο στον Κέρουακ, που έστω και τόσο ουδέτερα, μίλησε με τόσο όμορφα και αληθινά λόγια για την πιο τρομοκρατημένη και αδικημένη αμερικανική μειονότητα. Είμαι, βλέπετε, λίγο ευαίσθητη με τον Ινδιάνικό πολιτισμό και την κοινωνική απομόνωση –για να μην το πω ολοκαύτωμα και με πάρετε στο ψιλό- που υφίστανται μέχρι και σήμερα. Μην με παρεξηγείτε. ...more

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Sep 25, 2007 Paul Bryant rated it really liked it

Shelves: novels

You couldn't pay me enough to re-read this baby now. Well, okay, I'd probably do it for £200. Alright, £100. Cash.

Kerouac took over from Steinbeck as the guy I had to read everything by when I was a young person. Steinbeck himself took over from Ray Bradbury. All three American males with a sentimental streak as wide as the Rio Grande.

Whole thing nearly turned me into a weepy hitchhiker who plays saxophone while he waits for a ride, then gets abducted by aliens who are these very kind blue glo ...more

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Jul 31, 2007 Derek rated it really liked it · review of another edition

The author William Kirn, in a piece for Slate magazine debating the merits of On The Road, wrote, "It's hard for me to summon any more 'critical distance' toward On the Road than I can toward the shape of my own face or the smell of my own sweat." I feel much the same way. For me, On the Road is inextricable from the time and place that I read it. I was, literally, on the road, looking at colleges in New England during my junior year of high school. I'd borrowed the book from my brand-new-girlfr The author William Kirn, in a piece for Slate magazine debating the merits of On The Road, wrote, "It's hard for me to summon any more 'critical distance' toward On the Road than I can toward the shape of my own face or the smell of my own sweat." I feel much the same way. For me, On the Road is inextricable from the time and place that I read it. I was, literally, on the road, looking at colleges in New England during my junior year of high school. I'd borrowed the book from my brand-new-girlfriend Dina upon her insistence that it was nothing short of amazing. This was also the first time I'd heard Neil Young's Harvest in its entirety. I'd prefer not to downplay any of this in terms of shaping who I became over the next few years, and for that matter, who I am now.

All of this ancillary detail and admitted nostalgia probably shouldn't have anything to do with my assessment of the book. I did, after all, read it at the absolute "perfect" time: away from home, "discovering myself," blah blah blah. But you know what? I don't care how trite it was, and maybe still is. This book knocked it out of the fucking park for me. And so what if millions of kids the same age with the same sort of background enjoyed the same sort of "spiritual" experience with the book? I didn't know that at the time. All I knew of Jack Kerouac was his picture on the cover of the book.

How much did On the Road have to do with deciding not to go to school in New England but rather staying in Pittsburgh and going to a "city school"? How much did it have to do with writing becoming my immediate, absolute focus? How much did it have to do with that girl who lent it to me, who I am still in love with today? I don't know. What I do know is that it's all part of that same package, and I couldn't remove it if I tried. And why would I want to? To portray some ill-advised disaffected post-college stance that the book just ain't that good? I don't have time for that.

If this seems defensive, or even off topic, it's because I've had to defend this book so many times. What's the point in discussing narrative structure or character development when my reaction to this book was so much more than a mere academic appreciation, when it was downright visceral? To wit, Kerouac was the wild west gunslinger staring down a group of bad guys, his finger lightly tapping his pistol; I was the little boy at home, watching him on TV with a plastic cowboy hat on my head. Do you think I'm going to waste time talking about the cinematography?

That's not to say I think the book is without substance or can't be appreciated academically. In fact, it would make for an even longer review trying to describe these. My point is that they seem too after-the-fact. It's a wonderful novel, brimming with brilliance, and deserving of the hype.
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Jul 01, 2010 Shovelmonkey1 rated it liked it · review of another edition

Recommends it for: the generation that think they invented sofa surfing

Recommended to Shovelmonkey1 by: 1001 books list and the younger me

Shelves: 1001-books, bookcrossing-books, read-in-2010

I decided to re-read this recently, having originally read it too long ago as a 15 year old with a head full of clouds, fluffy ideas and idealism. Happy to report that the clouds and other fluff were replaced with an iron clad lump of cynicism which grows daily.

This time round (more than fifteen years on)I enjoyed it more for the colourful style of writing and use of language which marked it as a book that defined a generation. I also realised that despite his skill as a writer, Kerouac and chu ...more

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Feb 01, 2008 Maclain Rigdon rated it it was amazing

I was in school at the Merchant Marine Academy. I was nineteen years old; a Georgia boy. I had no business being there. The deal at the academy is that you do six months of your Sophomore year and six months of your Junior years at sea. At least that’s how it used to be. I hear they are on trimesters now. Who knows? Anyway, it was this sea year that attracted me to the school in the first place.

So I’m nineteen, heavy boozer, balls to the walls so to speak. I was coming unhinged having to deal wi ...more

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Sep 18, 2010 Alex rated it really liked it

Shelves: favorite-reviews, reading-through-history, 2012, rth-lifetime

I discovered Kerouac in tenth grade, right when all the kicks seem most dazzling, and I thought yes! This is the crazy bohemian life! And I spent the next ten years trying to be a Beatnik. I hitchhiked from Atlanta to Philadelphia just because according to this book that's the sort of thing one does. No one really hitchhiked, already, in those days; old hippies would pick me up looking bewildered. Well, and racist truckers, too, so some things never change. I would have given my left nut for som ...more

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Oct 07, 2014 Jonathan Ashleigh rated it it was ok

This was an interesting description of a lifestyle but it was not a story. Because I live in Denver, the book has many aspects that hit close to home and I still could not care less.

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Nov 11, 2009 Trevor rated it really liked it

Shelves: literature

There are people, I’m quite prepared to admit, that I am more than happy to spend time with – even an entire week if needs be - as long, that is, as they agree to remain within proper and predictable boundaries. And often those boundaries are pretty well fixed by the covers of the book that I find them in. Look, I don’t mind if you don’t wash or you get so drunk or stoned or both that you find yourself fast asleep hanging onto a toilet to make sure you don’t fall off the world. I don’t care if y There are people, I’m quite prepared to admit, that I am more than happy to spend time with – even an entire week if needs be - as long, that is, as they agree to remain within proper and predictable boundaries. And often those boundaries are pretty well fixed by the covers of the book that I find them in. Look, I don’t mind if you don’t wash or you get so drunk or stoned or both that you find yourself fast asleep hanging onto a toilet to make sure you don’t fall off the world. I don’t care if you wake up in the morning after your head has slid down the side of the toilet and you find yourself covered in proof that US sailors aren’t as accurate shots as they make themselves out to be. I don’t care if you turn up your jazz records so loud that it wakes every single bloody kid down the street so that they bawl out at the full stretch of their lungs from midnight right through to 6 am - just as long as all of those kids and everyone else living in that street who’s bleary eyed and up half the night shut the hell up as soon as I close the covers of the book.

Ah yes…

I’m not proud, I’ll admit it, I’m infinitely too straight to ever spend any real quality time with Mr Kerouac and his assorted friends. If I was there with them you’d have no trouble finding me. I’d be the guy in the back seat of their car with his eyes tight shut trying to pretend to be asleep, even if I would be listening, listening intently. Just the same, I already know that the bad driving would force my eyelids open just as surely as if matchsticks had been propped in there under the lashes. Yes, yes, I would find the driving the most difficult thing to deal with. I’ve never taken any sorts of objective measurements or done the comparisons that would need to be done, but I just don’t think my penis is small enough to make me need to risk death by car accident so as to prove my manhood. Shit no.

Still, this novel rings out and over and through a million imitations. It might well be a sad-but-true fact I’m telling you here, but my bet is that outright plagiarists have made ten gazillion times more than Kerouac ever did out of his beats. They’ve copied him in film and in book and in song. And I’m prepared to say here that there is no question that some of those imitations are nearly as good as Pepsi and some, well, some are more like home-brand Cola, but there have always been others that are not just the real thing, but they’ve even had a splash of whisky added – all pure and inspired. Those imitators taste like originals, either that or they have had their ears whispered into as if by the devil himself (so that it’s just like walking down the middle of a street where all lampposts have their streetlights smashed, but you’re okay and you’re going to be okay because right beside you is Tom Waits himself, and it’s Waits with a saxophone moaning low from an open window of a tenement building here-abouts – like he did that night on track nine from Nighthawks at the Diner).

This is a book affected by the rhythms of Jazz and it shows in virtually every sentence. He even mentions one of my all time favourite songs as he’s heading down the road somewhere on a particularly good night – Billie Holiday’s version of Lover Man sticks in his head (and can you really imagine a better song to have stuck there?) It is hard to read this book without a soundtrack of Dizzy Gillespie or Thelonious Monk or maybe even the Lady herself humming in your head, though maybe not singing, maybe just vamping one-handed on some just out-of-tune upright piano while the bass man taps his stings half-heartedly, half-heartedly and no more. Come here and find me a blindman for this piano. Still, there’s always music here, lots of music. And I don’t mean just in reference, but in the beat of the words as they hit the page. Christ, maybe even as residue sound from the keystrokes tapping against the paper scrunched up in an old manual typewriter.

Ah yes, ah yes…

Like I said, I’m just too straight for the madness of all this. The crazed brothel scene near the end with the young Latin American girls plastered and passed out and violated in expectation of little more than enough money to buy a pack of cigarettes – even if, perhaps, they received much more than that, you know, in the end, even if no one seemed to know how much was actually spent. It was clear from the beginning how much would be taken from all of these all-too-young little angels. Yes, that was all too much for my all too dull and far too prudish categorical imperatives. I struggled and I felt for those young girls and for what was being taken from them for a fist full of paper worth virtually nothing.

There was lots of that – lots of the sorts of things that good sons and good employees and good fathers struggle up against and fight up against and find just all too confronting. And I won’t hear any of your half-baked psychological bullshit about repressed desires. I’m not in the least trying to run away from what I want the most. I’m just warning you, that’s all; especially since while reading this book you’ll be brought up smack face-to-face close and right up far on the inside of this guy's head – and some of the places he has plans to take you, well, they aren’t on any Women’s Weekly package plane and bus tour itinerary. I mean that for sure. And your passport, well, that not going to do you any good either, not where he’s taking you. It is best you know right now that if someone asks you for your passport along this road then it’s just as likely that they’re planning to steal it from you. Like I said, I’m warning you, that’s all.

Listen to that. That trilling on the piano. That isn’t just there to show off the virtuosity of the guy with his fingers a blur over the keys; no, it’s not that. That’s there to remind you that round about midnight you’re going need to skip and step and jump onto a fright-train and to not forget that you’ve only got one shot and that’s when she slows up just a little bit on the bend. The trill is to remind you that every drink you have between now and then is going to cost you double as you run for that open door, the one with the hand sticking out of the dark and with someone you think you know calling out your name. But think nothing of it now, my friend, put it right out of your mind.

Although, if it was me I would recommend you remember – for there’s not a single person here who doesn’t love you, who isn’t your brother; just as there’s not a single person here who won’t leave you for dead out in the freezing cold of the night or abandon you in a strange city with your head stuck down a toilet bowl because the ice cream they recommended you eat this morning, the ice cream they said was a health food, really didn’t agree with the whisky they passed you this afternoon just as they nudged you in the ribs and pointed out that pretty little 15 year old Mexican girl sitting all alone and lonely and lost somewhere deep down in almond brown of her own eyes. The same brown eyes she used to furtively check you over with – what? Has that been for the third time now? Remember, there’s not one of them that won’t leave you to fend for yourself even as they drive off in their fifteen cent taxi with a quick glance back over their shoulder to see you walking stark naked and crying down the street because the Mexican dream girl you'd been talking to finally did get on her Greyhound Bus after she turned away from you spilling your guts into the gutter all almond coloured from the vanilla icecream and whisky you'd mixed together for their health giving properties. And damn it if you weren’t certain, as certain as you’ve ever been, that you had finally and for the first time in your life fallen in love and this time, this time it was for sure. For sure.

You’ll either love this book or hate it – cos that's the way this book is. Do you understand what I saying to you? You don’t have to love it just because it’s seminal – if you’re going to love it the fact it is seminal won’t add anything to the pleasure, just as if you are going to hate it the fact it spawned other works of art isn’t going to help in any way either.

Ah, I say, ah yes, that’s got to be me now, yes…
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Apr 08, 2008 Kevin Quinley rated it did not like it

Shelves: avoid-like-aids

A few months back I read Stephen Ambrose's "Undaunted Courage", a harrowing account of cross-country exploration made poignant by the character studies of adventurers Lewis & Clark. Undeterred in their mission to map the uncharted territories, the account of their expedition reminds readers of the vast wonders encompassed within America's borders. Equally awe-inspiring from the scope of their accomplishment and the natural beauty encountered, I felt compelled to perhaps make my own pilgrimag A few months back I read Stephen Ambrose's "Undaunted Courage", a harrowing account of cross-country exploration made poignant by the character studies of adventurers Lewis & Clark. Undeterred in their mission to map the uncharted territories, the account of their expedition reminds readers of the vast wonders encompassed within America's borders. Equally awe-inspiring from the scope of their accomplishment and the natural beauty encountered, I felt compelled to perhaps make my own pilgrimage west, alas any eventual voyage will lack the thrilling sense of discovery (of course also safe from the considerable threats) evoked in the Ambrose text. Unfortunately, after reading Kerouac's book, depicting a relatively worthless industrial landscape, I am reminded of the very real human egotism driving behavior and far less enthusiastic for far-flung ventures.

The book's common thread seems to be characters who will travel thousands of miles in search of a hamburger. Traveling to major urban cities leaves these restless souls unsatisfied until the climatic trip to Mexico, treated reverentially in a sharp contrast from the detachment associated with America. F'n Mexico?! An orgiastic trip to a Mexican brothel where the narrator leers at a teenager is the novel's spiritual apex, a stirring reminder of the potential for human depravity but a complete disappointment for readers attempting to understand Kerouac's considerable legacy. The narrator bizarrely swoons over companion Dean Mortiary epitomize unbridled living but whose M.O. depends on leeching from others and fathering children out of wedlock. References to Dean's own loser father permit sympathy for the man, but as an iconic figure he was shockingly repellent, just one in the litany of uninteresting characters peppering the novel.

Readers desiring a truly fresh perspective should just buy some psyclobin mushrooms and avoid the time you would otherwise waste reading this book. Far from understanding the genesis of the beat generation, I read Kerouac craft a self-indulgent justification for aimless wandering and its pitiable virtues. ...more

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Jul 17, 2008 Schmacko rated it it was amazing

They're like conquerors without a wilderness to claim, cowboys with no cattle to brand.

So much has been written about Jack Kerouac's On the Road, that I am not really going to write a review. I will pose my thoughts.

I think that for that half-dozen of people who know nothing about On the Road, I will say this. It's Jack Kerouac's most famous novel – Kerouac being the "King of the Beats" and the author who gave impetus to the Beat Generation along with the careers of Allan Ginsburg and William B They're like conquerors without a wilderness to claim, cowboys with no cattle to brand.

So much has been written about Jack Kerouac's On the Road, that I am not really going to write a review. I will pose my thoughts.

I think that for that half-dozen of people who know nothing about On the Road, I will say this. It's Jack Kerouac's most famous novel – Kerouac being the "King of the Beats" and the author who gave impetus to the Beat Generation along with the careers of Allan Ginsburg and William Burroughs. Kerouac's own muse was a sexy, reputedly well-hung man named Neal Cassady. (Kerouac was no slouch either – they made a handsome duo.) Kerouac and Ginsburg met Cassady while they attended Columbia University – Cassady didn't attend - in the late 1940s.

On the Road is a stream-of-conscious accounting of Kerouac's several aimless wanderings with Cassady. It's listed as fiction, but most people agree it's thinly veiled fact. Jack Kerouac wrote on a single long scroll of paper a rambling account of their infidelities, meanderings, drug use, bigamy, drinking, and general lawlessness. It is am interesting novel about post-WWII men lacking a frontier to conquer. It is about ennui, aimlessness, and the destructive ends that seeking adventure and answers can lead you to. It is also about men making their own odyssey, and it has inspired generations of people to take to travel, to trust the kindness of the road without any destination in mind.

In short, it's a self-destructive tome that many people love for its freewheeling spirit, ignoring its self-destructiveness. I am not dismissing the fun Kerouac and Cassady, but I am making sure I also acknowledge their consequences, both of them dying before they reached the age of fifty. Cassady died at 42 from an apparent overdose of Seconal, and Kerouac died at 47 of cirrosis from heavy drinking.

I think the fascination for me is how people let themselves come to such ends. Some might say it is the sexy, dangerous devil in Cassady that somehow tempts others like Kerouac into ablative behavior. I think that the seeds of self-obliteration lie dormant in the person waiting for a Cassady or a bottle or a drug to come along and start the process. It's going to happen; the cause is unimportant. It happened with Verlaine and Rimbaud, it happened with Shelley and Byron. But it's also happened with Garland and studio-supplied drugs, Belushi and cocaine, INXS frontman Michael Hutchence and a belt around the neck...

But this reductive, highwire lifestyle also encouraged Kerouac to invent a new way of writing, a voice that captured a new way of looking at the world and redefined a generation. His monologue of adventure across America several times and down into Mexico is hypnotic in its power to bring you along for the ride. It inspired so many others, not the least of which were Hunter S. Thompson and Jim Morrison – self-destructive people in their own right , but also, people who have created some incredible art.

And it all starts with a sexy devil who steals a car and says, "Hey, let's go to San Francisco."
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Sep 01, 2012 Loren rated it it was amazing

Shelves: all-time-faves, books-i-own, books-to-movies, rebels, male-author, 2012-reading-challenge, modern-classics, road-trip

I really have trouble writing reviews on books I fall in love with or that change my life. It's just, how do you explain your deep inner love towards a book to other people? It's extremely difficult. So this will probably just be a ramble of thoughts.

At the time I picked up On the Road, I had been having an extreme desire to travel and see the world. As I got further and further into the story, the desire became a need, you know that needy, heart-fluttery feeling you get under your chest? I was ...more

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Apr 07, 2016 Yash Sinojia rated it it was amazing · review of another edition

Shelves: favorites, classics, adventure, memoir, wanderlust, beat, travel

This 281 pages has been a long read for me as I was traveling to places and was actually feeling the book..

'On the Road' is a Beat Classic which is a pioneering milestone with other works for the era of 1950s to be framed as 'Beat Generation', even The Beatles were inspired by it (notice the spelling despite its pronunciation). This revolutionary pieces were written in a very unique way which Kerouac calls 'Spontaneous Prose'. This book listed as fiction is actually a thinly veiled memoirs of t This 281 pages has been a long read for me as I was traveling to places and was actually feeling the book..

'On the Road' is a Beat Classic which is a pioneering milestone with other works for the era of 1950s to be framed as 'Beat Generation', even The Beatles were inspired by it (notice the spelling despite its pronunciation). This revolutionary pieces were written in a very unique way which Kerouac calls 'Spontaneous Prose'. This book listed as fiction is actually a thinly veiled memoirs of the author which includes many Beat authors like Neal Cassady (being the hero Dean Moriarty), Allen Ginsberg & William S. Burroughs..

This book is an Odyssey of aimless wanderlust, infidelities, bigamy, meanderings and lawlessness of the post WWII men with no frontier to conquer. Though the vice this portrays and inspires generations of exuberant, passionate and adventure seekers to travel and to lead a different life away from all the materialistic bounds on the road with no destination.

Here I can see much hatred for this masterpiece due to all the hype and self-destructive nature. I think its fascination that how people come to meet such ends.
Some might say it is the sexy, dangerous devil in Cassady that somehow tempts others like Kerouac into ablative behavior. I think that the seeds of self-obliteration lie dormant in the person waiting for a Cassady or a bottle or a drug to come along and start the process. It's going to happen; the cause is unimportant.

Below quote at the climax symbolizes this perfectly - ' 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 “Awww! ". Thus at the end Dean was a sputtering but a beautiful Roman candle. The candle also symbolizes the generosity of the mad travellers which is deeply described.

The work is so touchingly vibrant, I would recommend it to everyone who hustles to explore the so called Classics ..
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About Jack Kerouac

Jack Kerouac was born Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac on March 12, 1922, in Lowell, Massachusetts. Jack Kerouac's writing career began in the 1940s, but didn't meet with commercial success until 1957, when On the Road was published. The book became an American classic that defined the Beat Generation. Kerouac died on October 21, 1969, from an abdominal hemorrhage, at age 47.

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Quotes from On the Road

“[...]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 centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!” — 10480 likes

“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.” — 2452 likes

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