By Rhea Kapur (VI)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I recently finished reading the book On the Road <\/em>by Jack Kerouac. You might have heard of it\u2014the novel is an American classic, a roman \u00e0 clef<\/em>, an autobiographical chronicle of Kerouac\u2019s (in the text, Sal Paradise\u2019s) adventures hitchhiking across the country with his writerly friends: Neal Cassady (the infamous Dean Moriarty), Allen Ginsburg (Carlo Marx), and William S. Burroughs (Old Bull Lee), to name a few. Rife with casual sex, drugs, alcohol, poetry, jazz, and endless exploration, On the Road <\/em>paints a comprehensive portrait of 1950s America, and it has come to define the Beat Generation: postwar nonconformists, disillusioned bohemians\u2026 those who championed spontaneity, psychedelics, and the journey, not the destination. On the Road <\/em>is an anthem, the Beatnik ode to freedom, to wanderlust, to the quest for \u201cit,\u201d whatever \u201cit\u201d is\u2014authenticity, purpose, the American ideal. The novel\u2019s influence on literature and writing has been widely studied, but I\u2019d like to explore how On the Road<\/em> has shaped music and individual musicians as well as introduce a playlist that, to me, matches the novel\u2019s message.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \tThere\u2019s no better place to start than the 10,000 Maniacs classic, \u201cHey Jack Kerouac.\u201d Natalie Merchant, the band\u2019s lead singer and main songwriter, penned the folksy tune, infusing her own opinions and frustrations with Kerouac and other Beatniks\u2014like Ginsburg and Burroughs\u2014into her work. She sings directly to Kerouac, who is at once the \u201cbrightest star\u201d (after On the Road <\/em>caught fire) and broken \u201clittle boy lost in our world that hated;\u201d she recognizes the \u201ctear-stained shock of the world\u201d that hit when he \u201c[went] away without saying goodbye.\u201d Perhaps this line is a reference to Kerouac\u2019s early death (caused by his excessive drinking), but I think it also speaks to the departure of the greater Beat Generation. Their call to pack and drive\u2014to hit the road and see where it travels, to stand by the emptiness of the harsh red horizon they chased\u2014faded almost entirely as the counterculture and civil rights movements of the 1960s and \u201870s took root. And what about where it stands now, in the progressive, fractured 2021? The wanderlust is relatable, and the lifestyle alluring, as Merchant sings, but in today\u2019s context, On the Road <\/em>reads like an anachronism\u2014a privileged, misogynistic, old boy\u2019s travelogue that offers no place of worth for women and people of color. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \tNevertheless, many other artists revered Kerouac and the Beat Generation, or were at least considerably influenced by their message at its prime. There\u2019s John Lennon (\u201cBeatles\u201d derives from \u201cBeat!\u201d), a huge fan of the writings of both Kerouac and Allen Ginsburg. There\u2019s Bob Dylan, the regular Dean Moriarty himself! On the Road <\/em>\u201cblew his mind\u2026 and changed his life,\u201d an influence particularly clear in Dylan\u2019s songs \u201cOn the Road Again\u201d and \u201cDesolation Row\u201d (inspired by another Kerouac work, Desolation Angels<\/em>, along with Allen Ginsburg\u2019s city poetry). There\u2019s Jim Morrison, Patti Smith, Bruce Springsteen, the Grateful Dead\u2026 and the list goes on. Kerouac\u2019s anthem of freedom, transcendance, and exploration lends beautifully to music, an art that <\/em>itself strains to be free, to embody<\/em> being free, to provide subconscious escape. Aspects of his subject matter may now read as out of touch, but it is because of this paralleled identity that Kerouac\u2019s influence will always remain in tune.<\/p>\n\n\n\n