Every so often as I stare at the shelf containing my collection of Jack Kerouac's books, I'm reminded of a conversation I once had with one of my undergrad professors. Dr. D, the Shakespeare scholar of the department, and I sat in a bar not far from campus discussing his book that he wanted me to help him proofread. At some point, we began talking about me and why it was I had decided to become a writer. I tried to come up with some sort of answer full of enough sophistication so that this Oxford-educated snob would not laugh into his Guinness. Try as I might, I couldn't avoid the truth, so I explained to him how as a fourteen year old I had become enamored with Jack Kerouac's writings, how he had opened up a part of my self that I had kept under some pre-conditioned wraps, how I realized that being a writer could be a possibility worthy of pursuit.
To his credit, Dr. D didn't laugh. He kept nodding his head as if he identified with something I was saying. Then he said the one thing that I have carried with me to this day: "Mr. Bryant, you will find one day that you have outgrown your idol."
I didn't argue with Dr. D (although I was fully prepared to remind him that he still participated in those Renaissance Faires at which he pretended to be some sort of knight in shining armor). After all, I was already a reluctant Kerouac fan who feared being lumped in with a burgeoning new wave of wannabe hipsters who were discovering the man by way of Gap ads or the 10,000 Maniacs. But deep down, I never thought it possible that I could outgrow Jack Kerouac.
Now fifteen years after that conversation, I'm ready to test Dr. D's statement. Beginning today, I plan on going through all of Kerouac's books and with eyes not blinded by some romantic fandom I'll see if age and maturity have lessened my love for Kerouac as a writer.
I'm going to stick to Kerouac's prose and plan on reading the books in order of date written (see reading list below the fold if you'd like to follow along and/or participate). If after a few novels I feel that Dr. D's prediction has merit I might abandon the project. I hope, though, that he was wrong. First up, Atop an Underwood, a collection of Kerouac's early writings.
Atop an Underwood, 1936-1943
Orpheus Emerged, 1944-1945
The Town and the City, 1946-1949
On the Road, 1948-1956
Visions of Cody, 1951-1952
Pic, 1951 & 1969
Book of Dreams, 1952-60
Doctor Sax, July 1952
Maggie Cassidy, early 1953
The Subterraneans, Oct. 1953
Some of the Dharma, 1954-1955
Good Blonde and Others, 1955
Tristessa, 1955-1956
Visions of Gerard, Jan. 1956
Old Angel Midnight, 1956
Desolation Angels, 1956 & 1961
The Dharma Bums, Nov. 1957
Lonesome Traveler, compiled in 1960
Big Sur, Oct. 1961
Satori in Paris, 1965
Vanity of Duluoz, 1968
I think that's a great idea, Jeff. I'll be curious to see the results. The idols of my early teen years would definitely not hold up, I know (I certainly wasn't reading Kerouac!). But as for the later teen years? Vonnegut could use a dusting off. But I might wait to see if your idol comes crashing down first.
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