Downtown Los Angeles, circa 1983

Downtown Los Angeles, circa 1983
STMcC in downtown Los Angeles, circa 1983

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

A "NOVEL" ALLEGORY FOR THE DEVELOPMENT OF MID-CENTURY JAZZ

.
.
ON THE ROAD
by Jack Kerouac
published: 1957 

We'll pick up Hazy Davy and Killer Joe
And I'll take you all out to where the gypsy angels go
They're built like light
And they dance like spirits in the night

(all night) in the night (all night)
Oh, you don't know what they can do to you
Spirits in the night

(all night) in the night (all night)
Stand right up now and let them shoot through you

~ 'Spirits In The Night'

by Bruce Springsteen

I happened to spend a night in Lowell, Massachusetts, while on a road trip some years ago. Being back in Jack Kerouac's hometown, I seized the opportunity to pick up a copy of his most famous book, ON THE ROAD, for a young co-worker. When I learned that he was only halfway through the book after 6 weeks of reading, I pulled my old copy from the shelf to see if it was more complex than I remembered it being -- I hadn't read it since the age of 19 or 20. (*No, it's predominantly high school level writing.) 

I intended to read but a page or two, but found myself sucked in, and I went through the entire book as fast as Dean Moriarty drives through "the fatal red afternoon of Illinois". (For those of you who have never read this cult classic, that translates to 110 mph.)

Ostensibly, the story is an existential look at America played out in the form of multiple cross-country road trips conducted by a variety of "beat" characters or "hipsters" from 1947 to 1950. Of course it also captures the hedonism of the original "Lost Generation."

But in a way it also illustrates the development of Jazz in that era -- something that escaped my notice when I first read it. When Sal Paradise (Kerouac's first-person narrative voice) undertakes his first trip to the West Coast, his plans are all mapped-out, nice and orderly: "I'd been poring over maps of the United States in Paterson for months ... on the roadmap was one long red line called Route 6 that led from the tip of Cape Cod clear to Ely, Nevada, and there dipped down to Los Angeles. I'll just stay on 6 all the way to Ely, I said to myself and confidently started." [pg. 10]

It is not long before Sal's plans get scrapped and he's forced to improvise his way West. This mirrors the movement of Jazz at the time. The rigidly structured musical charts (roadmaps) of the Big Bands were gradually giving way to more free-form Jazz, as musicians began to explore greater possibilites within the genre.

By the book's conclusion, Sal, Dean, and various hangers-on are blasting through the nights and days in a wild frenzy of (sometimes illogical) driving, drinking and womanizing with reckless abandon. Just as the Jazz musicians had gone to the outermost edge of melody and then abandoned all musical structure with wild flights of fancy -- the "Bebop" saxophonists and pianists whose musical aspirations were to create wholly personal, improvisational expressions which often became as self-indulgent as the road trips and misadventures of Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty. And throughout the story we find the two protagonists in smoke-filled Jazz clubs in the wee hours, nodding their heads, banging on tables and exhorting the players to Go cat, go! 

And "GOING" in the pursuit of the unnamed "IT" is another major component of the story: "We all realized we were ... performing our one and noble function of the time, MOVE. And we moved!" [pg. 134] "Sal, we gotta go and never stop going till we get there." / "Where we going, man?" / "I don't know but we gotta go." [pg. 240] "If you go like him all the time you'll finally get it." / "Get what?" / "IT! IT! I'll tell you -- now no time, we have no time now." [pg. 127] "Man, this will finally take us to IT!" said Dean with definite faith. [pg. 265]

But Dean Moriarty never does define "It" because he can't. I believe that Sal Paradise comes as close as they ever get to the object of their quest when on page 147 he relates that "as the river poured down from mid-America by starlight I knew, I knew like mad that everything I had ever known and would ever know was One." But then he gets distracted by illusory, mirage-like pleasures deceptively promising to lead him to "It", and he subsequently loses the scent in an alcohol haze.

It really doesn't surprise me that the first car I actually loved, I had named SAL, after Kerouac's character who was forever on the road. And many aspects of the story call to mind my own LIQUIDATED YOUTH when I cavorted with the spirits in the night (all night, every night) and friends known collectively as THE LEAGUE OF SOUL CRUSADERS, and individually as Napoleon, Cranium, Twinkie, and Pooh. Yours Truly was sometimes referred to as Mr. Intense. And then there was our red-headed unofficial leader, Yoey O'Dogherty, known by the nickname of Torch, who served as our "Dean Moriarty" with his contagious passion for life and his magnificent acts of magic behind the wheel of Tiburon, his 1963 Cadillac. There was virtually NOTHING that Torch couldn't get Tiburon to do (except obey the rules of the road).

I caught the essence of The League Of Soul Crusaders in a 1983 poem that concluded with the lines, TELLING JOKES AND HOWLING / TO NOWHERE. And that could just as easily describe the exploits of our boys in ON THE ROAD.

By no stretch of the imagination is ON THE ROAD truly great literature. It's one of those books that found its niche by coming along at just the right time with a new "language." What makes it interesting is its ability to convey the unharnessed energy of youth and to portray an exuberance for experience that resonates with primarily young readers (and old hippies).

While there are far better and more important books for you to spend your limited time with (and although I always preferred Kerouac's, 'The Dharma Bums'), ON THE ROAD is a somewhat worthwhile read and I can generally recommend the "trip", though I would caution you against emulating the immoral self-centeredness of its principal characters. (And I can tell you from many years of experience that you're never going to find "It" at insane parties and wild bars, nor while crossing the country at 110 miles per hour in a tequila or chemical-induced stupor.)

I'd sum it all up like this: 

They raced madly, wildly, chasing after IT. Looking here, looking there; tracking IT through the loud neon-painted nights and always seemingly one step behind IT. I've got IT now! I can feel IT -- the heat, and hear ITS breathing. I can sense ITS powerful presence here. And yet... IT is gone again; ever elusive, never materializing. And Sal and Dean never realized that IT dwelled within them. The one place they never thought to look. They toted IT with them in their crazy, frenzied and futile attempt to find IT. And with Kerouac's poor body utterly wasted from drugs and alcohol, he died a sad, bloated death in 1969 at the age of forty-seven, never having located IT. And IT died with him.
.

.

~ Stephen T. McCarthy
.

14 comments:

  1. I swear you posted this one before, because I remember commenting on it. I read "On the Road" as a young teen in the late '60s and thought these guys were so cool! Then, Jack Kerouac died and I came to realize how destructive this type of lifestyle could be. Not the road trip part; those are always fun!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're right, DEBBIE. I posted this same review at my BOTB site about a month or so ago, to kind of announce this new blog.

      I decided to re-post it here today, which I had always intended to do eventually, so it could be found with all its brothers and sisters.

      Yep, those guys lived fast and died young. It sounds cool and romantic when a person is young, but it seems rather pointless and wasteful as we mature, eh?

      ~ D-FensDogG
      Check out my new blog @
      (Link:] Stephen T. McCarthy Reviews...

      Delete
  2. Thanks for clearing that up! Thought I was getting a little senile for a second. ☺ Yes, the older we get, the more sensible, it seems. Well, not entirely...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The only reason I drink to excess is to keep me from noticing how senile I'm getting.

      I drink to forget
      But never forget to drink.

      ~ D-FensDogG
      Check out my new blog @
      (Link:] Stephen T. McCarthy Reviews...

      Delete
  3. Replies
    1. I like 'The Wind In The Willows' better... but that's English, not American, so... yeah.

      ~ D-FensDogG

      Delete
  4. "On The Road" left me cold. I got about 80% through it, and just didn't want to finish. It is of this book that Truman Capote allegedly said, "This isn't writing, this is typing," and whether he said it or not, I tend to concur.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. JOHN ~
      You are correct about the Truman Capote reference. As far as I know (although it could just be one of those literary myths) he did say it.

      Although I myself don't really agree with it, I totally love the quote and have used it countless times over the years. A lot of times I've used it in reference to what I've found posted on blogs. A lot of people out there who have big dreams of being a famous writer someday, but I read their posts and come away thinking there's NDT (No Discernible Talent); they're just typists.

      I turned FAE onto that quote and I think it's become a favorite of hers, too.

      Another literary quote I use almost incessantly is what Gertrude Stein said about Oakland, California: "There isn't any there there."

      Wish I had a buck for every time I've said that about various things. It's an amazingly useful quote.

      ~ D-FensDogG
      Check out my new blog @
      (Link:] Stephen T. McCarthy Reviews...

      Delete
  5. I never thought about the connection with jazz. Interesting!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hokey-Smoke! Howdy, Stranger. Long time no yak!

      The first time I read 'ON THE ROAD', I didn't know a Charles Mingus from a Ben Webster, so there was zero chance of me making the Jazz connection.

      But by the second time I read it, I had been immersed in Jazz and it was my favorite musical genre. And that's why that pattern emerged for me.

      I remember I once wrote a review for your book 'MISSED PERIODS'. I should try to locate that and re-post it on this blog. I mean, like, it WAS a review, right? And this IS a blog for reviews, right?

      ~ D-FensDogG
      Check out my new blog @
      (Link:] Stephen T. McCarthy Reviews...

      Delete
  6. Stimulating post, Reno! I agree and have often decried that music,like many things, eventually meanders west. But in the words of Maya Angelou, "Nothing works unless you do," when you get there. Sounds like the road-trippers never got that memo. However, they certainly did have that compelling new 'language' you spoke of: "The river poured down from mid-America by starlight" - nice!
    I didn't name my first favorite car (72'Gran Torino) because I never got to drive it. The dang seat wouldn't move up far enough ;-) I did have a respectable mini-van named 'Tony' whose only claim to fame was carting little people to school. I secretly call the Roush Stage 2 we have now "Diablo".
    I like what you said about IT lying within. Good summary.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks dIEDRE, I'm glad you liked the review.

      You made me laugh with that line about the seats of the Gran Torino. I take it that a career in the WNBA was never an option, eh?

      So, I'm curious how the mini-van got named "Tony".

      The '89 Toyota I drive today is named "Chuck The Truck". Because I inherited it from my Pa, Chuck, when he passed away in 1996. Great little truck too, just like my Pa was great.

      ~ D-FensDogG
      Check out my new blog @
      (Link:] Stephen T. McCarthy Reviews...

      Delete
    2. Oh, I don't know, Reno. I was a decent guard in high school...:-) After all, I made it (at last) to 5 ft tall my freshman year.
      Unfortunately, the Torino was just no good to me and sat in the carport long enough to be defiled by a neighbor kid with a ballpoint pen. It wasn't hard to figure out who since she wrote her own name ;-)
      I was certain 'Tony' would be as loyal and tough as 'Tony the Tiger' - the kids even liked the name. It's just that he'd overheat on any incline higher than a mailbox - never mind the Salt River Canyon; which I traversed quite a lot.
      What a cool story behind "Chuck the Truck"! I had an '88 Toyota truck that we thought would surely outlive us. The only downside was that friends of mine had personalized the driver's seat for me - up on blocks and bolted to the floor ;-)
      I dearly love the jeep I drive now, but cringe in fear that one day the motorized seat adjuster will give out.

      Delete
    3. dIEDRE, I wouldn't have guessed you as the competitive sports type. Goes to show how well I know you.

      Pretty funny about the girl with the ballpoint pen. Sounds like she could have been on 'The World's Dumbest Criminals' show. (Some of those things are hilarious.)

      I was going to guess that the name Tony was for Tony The Tiger. And by the way, my Ma was also 5 feet tall. I remember she always needed a seat cushion in her cars. Hey, whatever works, right?

      ~ D-FensDogG

      Delete

---> NOTE: COMMENT MODERATION IS ACTIVATED. <---
All submitted comments that do not transgress "Ye Olde Comment Policy" will be posted and responded to as soon as possible. Thanks for taking the time to comment.