Neil Cassady was walking on rails in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, dressed in 501 Levi’S jeans as always, and a white t-shirt as always, a little cold, it was raining, probably from a wedding event, maybe too drunk, maybe he drank something he shouldn’t drink, maybe he took too much secobarbital, maybe these substances mixed too much with each other, and maybe he just got Tired of it, 50 years ago. Born, 8 Feb 1926, today, him, Ho! Ho!, 92 years old.
Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road” is more important as a myth or a cultural marker than as a novel
It takes half a century from 1968, which tractors plow the heads of Western citizens, their mentality, morality, view of art, sex, drugs and politics. In 2017 we have been a half-century since the summer of love Human Be-in, edition of “on the road”, including more in – Europe-50 years of political and social protests on the barricades cities and campuses to the next to get back to the States, where in 1969, the rock-n-roll broke at the festival in Woodstock.
There are people who sometimes are connected with them inseparably, and without which all this would look different than it looked, and I don’t think there are critical sociologists, technicians from LSD, moahahaha Zen philosophers crowds, political thinkers or leaders of men, but of mad men, about which wrote Jack Kerouac, “the mad, Engulfed in the madness of life, a fury of conversation, the desire for salvation, wishing for just once, who never yawn, not spit on, burn, burn like fabulous race explode like spiders on the background of stars, until suddenly shoots a blue core, and the crowd is shouting ‘Ooooh!”madmen like Neil Cassada.
In December 1950, Neil Cassidy wrote (told that for 3 days with benzedryną at hand) for his friend, Jack Kerouac 18-page letter about the novel was a few years ago, with a girl whose name was Joan Anderson, about how she visited the hospital after the suicide attempt and how at the same time to twist with Mary, with whom the room ran through the window, because her mother was not his fan and even called for help in the treatment of the priest, but he was his godfather, and the pool halls and bars of Denver, the prisons and budget hotel rooms, and with a picture of the window he was running through to make it clear.
Cassady materializes as a ready-made icon
Kerouac read the letter and had it for him as Dostoevsky’s “Notes from the underground,” “the best piece of Russia I’ve ever seen, better than someone’s in America, and at least good enough that (Herman) Melville, Mark Twain, (Theodore) Dreiser, (Thomas Wolfe, I don’t know who, tossing in coffins,” talked about it that way. The letter was to be released, worked on by Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg (from” Skowytu”), but without going into details, the letter was missing and was not released.
Jack Kerouac, from the first lyrics, was looking for his rhythm, one that would float smoothly, like bebop out of Charlie Parker’s pipe, so spontaneous on the typewriter, without wondering and without interrupting a fix, like Jackson Pollock while drawing, which maybe Jack knew, because he was walking around the bars of Greenwich Village and saw it all humming, but he focused on jazz because he wanted jazz to sound like his novel, so he took Benzedrine, coffee and in the car for three weeks, I knocked ” on the way”, one of the most important novels for the generation of the 50s. and 60.
It’s certainly one of many literary legends like Gabriel Garcia Marquez, an opaque review American Muse, Holy Fool, or a great lover Ernest Hemingway, because it’s really Kerouac’s thought of “on the road” for a long time, heaps of notes, ideas, travel magazines, but the spontaneous prose he wrote down these three weeks on a 36-meter roll of paper (he glued Cards to avoid wasting time on changes), she came to him along with Cassady’s letter.
“On the road,” of course, about the Nile here called Dean Moriarty-the crazy boy of the West as cowboys once crossed America on his horses, so he now cuts her up and down the Hudson ‘ 49, by far the best and craziest driver in literary history (supposedly Charles Bukowski while driving with Neal was-quoting another co-host – “shit in my pants”), bisexual and lover, followed by all went to the fire, Holly Bumpkin dancing in rhythm”) 24 hours because Dean was awake, work, bar, two women, discussions until the morning and again from the beginning, and still on the way so many cases, so many ideas and all the time on max as naspeedowany, because it was often naspeedowany and so rushed through this novel.
He spent years endeavoring to write his own autobiographical novel
From today’s point of view, it is difficult to say who is famous, Neil Cassady or Dean Moriarty, but then, in the late 50’s.when 7 years later, finally managed to Kerouacowi spend “in the way”, Dean Moriarty became a hero imagination of thousands of aspiring in their free and crazy young people, and his legend she is on the Nile, on this white t-shirt and pięćsetjedynkach to have him never behind.
Admittedly, Neil Cassidy was a perfect match for the Beat Generation hero. Jack Kerouac, John Clellon Holmes, Allen Ginsberg wanted to write about the real America, this smelly reality of cheap bars and roads where boys with sea bags on their shoulders catch a leg while a freight train with a roof filled with the sweaty California sun hobo with Earth on their hands and leaky boots is in the distance.
Writers Strike first wrote about such people as Neil, and of course, the first on such a large scale, wrote about people like Neal Cassady, who was raised by a father trampa, who lived in a squalid hotel in Denver or włóczącego at work across the country, which had more stolen cars than ran in the family-Lowell Kerouac, who was sitting in prison, jail and on a global scale chair, zaczytując in the classics, he was able to jump in the car while driving, to steal petrol at the station, no school, without training, the worker of physical, which the honorary society had somewhere and most odseparowałoby it in the toilet at the station All, where it rarely comes.
Yes, Neal Cassady was a perfect match. “He had the energy of the archetypal West,” Said forest poet Zen Gary Snyder. I heard that among them was another man, bill Cannestra, the lawyer of Harvard, involved in the organization in her apartment in Chelsea on the eternal parties and being at parties, which at the age of 28 years drunk in the subway, he’d come out of the window, and went out, and then wanted to come back, but the subway started to go, not understood… I don’t know until the end how to describe crossing a border that no one else has crossed, so imagine the craziest person you know and that he won’t do something because it’s too much and rest assured, that Cassady and Canastra would March with the finger in the ass.