maggie cassidy, jack kerouac. A book about some little insignificant teenage love affair, given all the significance drink and some despair-joy can pointlessly conceive of it.
A minor kerouac work but it manages to be very charming, and its over-dependence on things being dark and gloomy and trembling are in keeping with the vulnerable vibrations of a poor teenage boy. How did anyone manage? It is like the just william books, the OC, and a depressive prison memoir combined in cosmic gloom joy dust.
favourite bits:
paragraph recollection of arriving late for school, suddenly capped with final sentence:
"I'm going back to school," dreams the old invalid in his innocent pillow, blind of time.
the teenage romanced future thought of coupledom:
"... Maggie and I getting home late at night tired from a party, and going up dark steps along rosy wallpaper to the dim velvet darkness of the rooms upstairs where we take off our coats of winter and put on pajamas and in between in the middle of both garments the nudities of bouncing bed"
there is also a chess puzzle in this book
read-bit 002
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I think the chess puzzle is deliberatly wrong or something. I thought about it a lot a while ago. I think that in the chess puzzle there is something missing.
ReplyDeleteI still think that "nudities of bouncing bed" is excellent.
kerouac is looked down on it seems (by who and from what heights)
ReplyDeletebut i'll continue to stick up for him, just quote him is all that is required