Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Journal #1

I am so happy that I am reading this book right now. Kerouac writes with the sprawling energy of a restless youth, and most days that's exactly how I feel. The story focuses around a character named Sal, who (so far) has decided to hitch-hike his way to Denver. The best part about all this, is that every experience builds the character, and every change in character is accompanied by a change in writing. For instance on page 5 Sal meets an eccentric character named Dean, who quickly befriends another one of Sal's friends, Carlo Marx. The passage describe how Sal chases them down the street. "I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interested me, because the only people for me are 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..." (Kerouac 5) What really gets me about this passage is the way we see so many aspects of his life. He shambles, shambles, after them, he needs them, he has to surround himself with these people, as he has done all his life. The next part is even more descriptive,
these people are mad, mad to live, talk, and be saved. He describes both himself and the people of his generation. This is not just a memoir about a road trip, it's a memoir about a generation of people, about the group of people that Sal has encompassed himself in. The writing begins to reflect these people when Sal gets to Denver. Here, Kerouac describes a night of revelry and drunken happenings: " Three o'clock came. Dean rushed off for his hour of reverie with Camille. He was back on time. The other sister showed up. We all needed a car now, and we were making too much noise. Ray Rawlins called up a buddy with a car. He came. We all piled in; Carlo was trying to conduct his scheduled talk with Dean in the back seat, but there was too much confusion. "Let's all go to my apartment!" I shouted. We did; the moment the car stopped there I jumped out and stood on my head in the grass. All my keys fell out; I never found them." (Kerouac 44) The writing is frantic, the sentences are short. Chopped ideas, that in themselves reflect the night. For instance when the need a car, they call Ray's buddy, the next sentence: "He came." Instantaneously? Obviously that's impossible, but the characters don't feel that way. To them, Ray's buddy coming over was a tiny section of a crazy night. Then when they get to Sal's apartment the writing picks up again, he does a headstand in the grass, and his keys fall out and he never finds them again. But, in the course of the novel it comes off as a minor detail, a minute moment in Sal's life. The structure, and rhythm of the writing so perfectly exemplifies the characters, the story, and the mindset of a generation. I can't wait to read more.