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4.0 out of 5 stars
Lowell's laureate's loving tribute, July 9, 2004
This review is from: Kerouac's town (Modern authors monograph series) (Paperback)
To me, more satifying than the whole of "Jack's Book" (Gifford's and Lawrence Lee's oral biography on Lowell's most famous son). "Kerouac's Town" is a slim volume that can easily be devoured in one sitting but, like all of Gifford's memoir pieces, leaves you with the impression that you've just undertaken a large, relevatory journey. This is because he writes without pretension -often without too much description either- somehow managing to leave his truly individualistic take on things without being verbose.
The book (based on the 1977 revised edition) is the author and photographer's pilgrimage to the subject's home town of Lowell on the anniversary of his death. They wander around, looking for accomodation, chat with the locals, placing the streets and landmarks within the context of Kerouac's biographical novels, visit his grave and, in the final chapter of the book, visit his widow, Stella, in Florida. There ain't much in the way of biography here so look elsewhere for that: for those interested in Kerouac this should probably be taken only as a companion piece to "Jack's Book".
In short, Gifford writes with the motto "less is more" emblazoned upon his pen. The black and white photographs by Marshall Clements are evocative of the sleepiness of the town but serve only to illustrate the text. A magical, small book that, to me, is all the more special for being so.
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4.0 out of 5 stars
Finally recouped, November 11, 2009
I loaned a copy of this to someone 3 decades ago and have never seen it since, so I look forward to holding it and perusing it again. I recall the fotos were of considerable interest; to see where Jack mooned over Mary/Maggie, and the various homes he resided in, the river etc. gave a flavour of Lowell to someone in the depths of the Southern Hemisphere - Tasmania, my birthplace. It only just occurred to me to search on Amazon and I'm happy to have a secondhand copy to add to my reasonably substantial collection of Kerouacania. I read On the Road when it came out and knew he was the Real Thing, so it feels like a pleasant vindication to me to see the reverence in which his work is now rightly held.
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