Customer Reviews

On the Road: 50th Anniversary Edition

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My review is about this particular release of the book, not the author's fine story itself.

Jack Kerouac's On The Road is a magnificent book I read every single summer. I already own a couple of well-worn paperback versions, along with the hardcover 40th Anniversary Edition, so as a great fan I could hardly wait to get my hands on this latest version, touted as the 50th Anniversary Edition; but imagine my dismay, then, when I found my new, much-anticipated purchase to be the exact same book as the 40th Anniversary Edition, except for a different dust-cover!

I guess I don't know what I was expecting...perhaps an expanded introduction, maybe additional pictures of, say, Kerouac, Cassady, Ginsberg. SOMETHING! At the very least, you might think there would be a change to the typeface, different paper used, or an alteration to the layout, but, no, NOTHING!

And when I get around to reading it, I bet I find the very same typos in the very same places.

Again, this is not a rant about Kerouac's masterpiece, which is perhaps my very favorite read; I'm simply expressing my disappointment in the 50th Anniversary Edition, which hasn't changed one bit in ten long years. It's still a fine release, however, one worthy of most anyone's library; but it could have been, should have been, made into something special -- something memorable and collectible.

They might have changed the dust-cover, but the editors failed to remove the dust for those of us who already own the 40th Anniversary Edition and were anxiously awaiting another, unique version for our bookshelves.

If you already own a copy of On The Road and desire something truly "different" to add to your Kerouac collection, try On The Road: The Original Scroll.

On the Road: The Original Scroll

After six months of reading Trollope (and loving it) this year, I realized it was time to put the Victorians behind me for a while and started checking out the New York Times book reviews. Coincidentally, the 50th anniversary of "On the Road" came to my attention. It seemed like gross oversight to have lived in America for 50 years and not know anything of Kerouac.

"On the Road" seems like a young man's book (both for the writer and the reader). I wish I'd come to Kerouac 30 years earlier, at which time I was living in Manhattan among a circle of friends all taking ourselves way too seriously. For a susceptible young mind, reading it might encourage indulgence in more youthful high-spirited madness and irresponsible experience; perhaps that's healthy, perhaps not, but it would create memories. "On the Road" is a great promotion for Life and Experience (and less brooding).

However, that said, reading the book (as a man in his fifth decade), I appreciated the book without finding it a consistently enjoyable or satisfying experience. Within the first hundred pages, I became impatient with the sameness of all the events of the book and its characters. I stayed with the book out of curiosity and hope, trusting that there would be development or growth of either character or plot.

But, reading of the characters' somewhat redundant frenetic buzzings here and there, the picture that often came to mind was that of a flea circus: all frenzied mindless activity without purpose or pattern ("sound and fury signifying nothing").

I suspect that, if one read only the first 50 pages and the last 50, little of the experience of reading the book would be lost, and this is hardly a recommendation for a book. The exception would be the loss of some fine passages of prose poetry. If one stops focusing on plot and development, there can be satisfaction to be had from savoring the descriptive writing.

Is it possible to care about a book without caring about the characters? I'd go so far as to say that there were no real characters. Dean is a speech pattern, a distinctive highly-energized speech pattern, but he seems little more. Reading Sal's frequent references to Dean's madness, I wondered if Sal meant that Dean was literally mad and if the book's culmination might be his total mental dissolution. But, at the end, Dean was still sweating and rubbing his belly and babbling as in the first chapter. Sal the observer, himself seems a bottomless vessel; more and more may be poured into him, but he never fills and nothing of substance pours back out. And the rest of the characters are largely interchangeable.

In the end, I think it's easy to esteem "On the Road" as a kick in the butt of literature, and as a new-sounding (for the time) and distinctive voice. But I'm not driven to seek out more.

Everything old is new again!

I remember reading Jack Kerouac immortal novel of a road trip when I was in high school. About ten years later, I heard a Rhino record collection of Kerouac reading abridged cuts from his novel with Steve Allen (yes, author/actor/former Tonight show host) playing piano in the background. About five years later, Durkin Hayes audio had David (Kung Fu) Carradine reading an abridged version of the novel. About five years ago, Caedmon audio had Matt Dillon read an unabridged version of Road. Now Will Patton has stepped up to the audio plate, orating an unabridged recording of Road

Patton brings a southern charm to his narration of this classic American novel of an anatomy of a road trip early 1950's. This audio capture the beatnik era in the reading. Patton's vocal shading is amazing to listen to.He seem to capture the era and the characters with a quick change in his voice or tone

As I have said, I have other versions before, but this seem to be a verbal time capsule of an era gone by.

For those who have not read the book, this audio will be a perfect chance to listen to great literature.

Bennet Pomerantz AUDIOWORLD

Author Jack Kerouac (in the character of Sal Paradise) narrates this love story about two brothers; well, not quite; it's about two sojourners, no, OK, see there's these two polar opposites who've fallen victim to "IT" (you know IT! IT!) . . - aw hell it's about a free spirit (real life Neal Cassidy in the character of Dean Moriarty) burning his life away searching for True Experience (a.k.a The American Dream?) and sucking the brotherly, devoted, and always forgiving Sal Paradise through that vortex with him. Crack the book, and join the frenetic and exuberant world of the "Beats"! Marginalized by the mainstream, and perpetually broke, members of this post WWII subculture lived in pursuit of spiritual, sensual, and intellectual enlightenment, their energies fueled by optimism, wanderlust, and, pretty much, a liberated joy of living. The story and the language, especially the language, tugs at us, and bends us toward that search ourselves, but we really can't go; our lives are too wrapped up in fluctuation avoiding conventionalities, or maybe we're just milquetoasts who retreat to live out our days at a safe distance, looking in, and never daring to leave our banal existence, leaving it up to Sal the narrator to tell us that "the things that were to come are too fantastic not to tell." We are the "they" in Dean's analysis of our problem: "But they need to worry and betray time with urgencies false and otherwise, purely anxious and whiney, their souls really won't be at peace unless they can latch on to an established and proven worry . . ." Dean advises "The thing is to not get hung-up", and Sal clarifies the book's anthem, explaining that the main characters were "leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move. And we moved!" Pre-historic man developed the wheel, industrial age man harnessed propulsive forces to spin the wheel, and twentieth century man laid continent spanning ribbons of concrete to enable his free spirited kinsmen (represented by Dean Moriarity and Sal Paradise) to exercise that "one and noble function." We can expect that the aspirations of future man will be no different. On The Road lays open and bare before our eyes the true hard-wiring at the core of our human self, and what we see is that glorious radioactive white light of irreverent individualism; and it's hard not to stare, despite the danger. When the control rods were passed out, they somehow missed Moriarity; "You spend a whole life of noninterference with the wishes of others . . . . What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow."

On The Road is rich in other characters of the "Beat Generation", including for example William S. Burroughs in the character of Old Bull Lee and Allen Ginsberg as Carlo Marx, and the story doesn't wince from informing us of the roles played by personal relationships, drugs, and alcohol in the life fabric of the Beats. Actual American road trip experience in the jazz drenched era at the close of the 1940s inspired the stream of experiences painted onto the pages of this book. From a distance, we may view a life of continent hopping travel, unfettered with responsibility, as the magnetic stuff of myth, discovery, and "kicks." Under the microscope of Kerouac's pen, these charms happily survive, though somewhat bruised by the real human experiences and consequences of naiveté, dependence, relationships, self-doubt, hardship, and the need to forgive.

I received Penguin Audio's On The Road, skillfully narrated by Will Patton (and spanning nine CDs), from my daughter for Christmas. "Something to do on your commute," she said. Yes, I did chew off a long commute when I moved here in 1981. Ninety minutes one-way. But somewhere in the first chapter, I found myself "completely in there with all the terms and jargon," and it was actually quite disappointing to run out of listening time at the end of the commute, chapter after chapter day after day. I'll confess to inhaling this story three times while "on the commute" over the following weeks. In the process I zeroed in on several dozen key passages--gems each. For example, there's Sal's unapologetic description of people who interested him, the only ones for him being "the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time," and the glimpse into Dean's frantic jumble of a brain with his statement that "We're really all of us bottomly broke. I haven't had time to work in weeks." I kept notes on these finds, and considered what it would take to create a sort of audio synopsis of the book - you know, some dialog backed with appropriate music. But nothing worked; not blues, not soul, especially not rock; not even jazz. And finally it hit me, as you could have told me from the beginning, that the language of this book is jazz - you can't back music with music: the book's dialect is its own soundtrack! I dismissed the whole idea - just go with the book or CDs as they are; they're perfect.

As I write this and consider today's tarnished economic landscape, I wonder about the American Dream; has it gone the way of the dinosaur? Kerouac may have come to that sullen conclusion over half a century ago. But he kept that thought to himself, and instead vocalized a glimmer of optimism for his friends, and for us, with his observation "Old Dean's gone, I thought, and out loud I said `He'll be all right.' "

Actor Will Patton does a wonderful job dramatizing the audio version of this latest edition. In particular, he brings out all the charisma, excitement, and nutiness of the central character Dean Moriarity, the Holmes to narrator Sal Paradise's hip Watson.

Enjoyed this version. I don't usually listen to audio books, but this is a favorite, so I was eager to listen to it. The depiction of Dean was right on the mark. The product was in great condition and was delivered promptly.

Audio collections focusing on the classics must have the 50th Anniversary Edition of Jack Kerouac's ON THE ROAD, narrated by award-winning actor Will Patton who lends a charged and vivid voice to Kerouac's adventure story of two friends who make four cross-country road trips.

In commemoration of the fiftieth anniversary of its first printing, Viking Press has republished Jack Kerouac's seminal work in a new hardcover version. There is no question that his story still resonates because the writing is still ripe with human insight and attitudes that have changed little when it comes to seizing the day. The novel focuses on innocent Sal Paradise, who narrates the story, and his inspiration, a wild spirit he meets in New York named Dean Moriarty. As polar opposites, they share but one common bond, a pervasive feeling of desperation in a time when the Cold War produced a spiritual void and a sense of nihilism. Their response is to set out on the road and live life one precious moment at a time. Through Kerouac's stream-of-consciousness narrative, the two experience life in all its dimensions in all sorts of settings throughout the country, whether in sleepy towns, rural areas or big cities, bouncing from New York to Chicago to San Francisco to Los Angeles to Mexico and back again.

In the process, Sal and Dean meet some memorable characters along the way in places as diverse as a Virginia diner, a New York jazz nightclub and a Mexican border bordello. The jazz, poetry and drug experiences that Kerouac chronicles have a palpable feel about them as they represent how the characters dealt with their often desperate feelings about death, an ethos quite central to what the Beat Generation was all about back then. The prose can get quite maddening at times, but that is exactly Kerouac's point, the fact that life is not a carefully constructed story with a message. In fact, much of the book resulted from the author's scribblings in tiny notebooks he kept while traveling for a period of seven years. Even though there is a dated feeling in the portrayal of the American Dream specific to that period, the novel still haunts with Kerouac's imagery of people whose individual spirits either crushed them or left them still searching for greater meaning.

Let me starting by noting that this was the first time I've ever read this wonderful tome. You can't be around literature or even modern American culture without hearing the name Jack Kerouac, but I had never actually sat down and read this book.

It took me a few chapters to "get into it" in terms of the style. But after a while, I couldn't wait to get home from work and read a few more chapters, and savor the goodness. I LOVED the narrative, and the stream of consciousness style added to the prose. I've since read a bit on Kerouac and his style and his friends (Wikipedia is a good place to start), and this isn't the sloppy, lazy manifesto it is often made out to be in today's times. Kerouac knew exactly what he was doing, and it was beautiful. I'm not going to summarize the story, because you probably already know it, but I will say that I wept at the end because I was touched, and because I was truly sad to say good-bye to this book.

As others have clearly noted--there isn't much else "special" about the book in terms of it being an "Anniversary edition." There is NYT review included from when the book was published, and while a nice read, that is the only "extra" you get. The jacket cover is nice, and the hardcover looks like something you might hold on to as opposed to maybe a paperback. Beyond that, if you already have a hardcover version of this wonderful book, you won't be missing much by skipping this edition.

Kerouac's prose really buries itself into your subconscious, and when your friends wonder what the hell you are talking about, remind them of what you are reading. I'm sorry that my prose falls short in capturing the joy, the utter joy, I experienced when reading this book. If you have not read it yet, you could do much worse than this.

Jack Kerouac is a conservative. Yes, believe it. He is a conservative in the best sense of that word before it was corrupted by the mouths of partisan politicians.
One wag once classified "On The Road" as mere "typing" and I first judged it to be an amateurish travelogue. Then I recognized what Kerouac is doing -- trying to call America back to its better self; what America was before World War I; what it was before it became the cop of the world out to "prove something" (the supposed merits of gunboat social democracy). That's reason enough to rank "On The Road" a classic.
Only a person with the disposition of a child can enter the Kingdom of G-d, the Christian scriptures say. Kerouac's narrator Sal Paradise (the last name gives it away) is of the Kingdom. But he's no braggart or preacher. Sal quietly mourns that America has mostly ceased to be. His contrast of U.S. and Mexican police shows the depressing depths to which the "civilized" world's leading nation has sunk. Yet Paradise holds fast that "every moment of life is holy and precious." Interactions with Mexican Indians remind us that the Indians were the proud forerunners of Western man. One weeps today for American Indians who have traded their noble station for mawkish casino gambling entertainment pottage fouling the spiritual rivers of mankind.
Kerouac's post-World War II narrative reminds one of the Jazz Age rebellion (best chronicled by F. Scott Fitzgerald) that followed World War I. Jazz plays a large role in both rebellions. Kerouac is trying to call out the better (albeit imperfect) America in part through immersion in "bop" music. Charlie Parker's "Now's The Time" ought to be considered the lit motif/soundtrack of "On The Road." Parker's music and Kerouac's prose communicate urgency. Kerouac even positions Sal Paradise to be like Parker. The author describes Parker as a "cool" Kansas City alto sax player spurred on by "mad" Thelonius Monk and "even madder" Dizzy Gillespie. Road companions Carlo Marx (is Kerouac's flirting with communism?) and Dean Moriarity (the name "Dean" implies a teacher) play Monk and Gillespie to Paradise's Parker.
Kerouac shows his yearning for the old and better America through the search for Dean's father. These hopes would be shattered when the U.S. war machine plowed into Korea and Vietnam. Big government, operating as the dual-headed welfare/warfare state, continuing to grow and destroy, draining the country of its people and vitality. Fitzgerald saw the government and its political central bank crash the economy then get out by blaming freedom. A generation and two later, Kerouac and fellow "beats" would witness American smashing up non-threatening countries and skating away pointing fingers at communists in Russia and China.
Sal Paradise notes it covertly and almost dispassionately, telling us about "the snake" destined to consume the planet. Moreover, Sal's father is dead while Old Man Moriarity (metaphors for the better America) remains missing. Kerouac resigns himself yet with a faint hint of optimism.
"...Nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarity, I even think of Old Dean Moriarity, the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarity."