f7d9395c_atings_and_reviews___Gwern_net__Review
[Title] On the Road [Author] Jack Kerouac [Rating] ★★★ [Year] 1976 [Read] 2004/01/01 [Review] 
A curious book: an unusual stylistic effort which in some passages reach great heights of beauty, combined with the most malign content. The strange thing reading it is wondering how this could ever have inspired a generation or been received as a model rather than a warning - it is one long crime spree by the characters, particularly Neal Cassady, even if the author is too in love with him to have the slightest perspective or critical thought or to realize that there is no redeeming value or spiritual meaning to any of their experiences other than as a warning against nihilistic hedonism and how charismatic conmen exploit voids. ‘Conman’ might well be too light a word for it; consider the following excerpts from ‘The Great Sex Letter’: She (her name Patricia) got on the bus at 8 PM (Dark!) I didn’t speak until 10 PM – in the intervening 2 hours I not only of course, determined to make her, but, how to DO IT. I naturally can’t quote the conversation verbally, however, I shall attempt to give you the gist of it from 10 PM to 2 AM. Without the slightest preliminaries of objective remarks (what’s your name? where are you going? etc.) I plunged into a completely knowing, completely subjective, personal & so to speak “penetrating her core” way of speech; to be shorter (since I’m getting unable to write) by 2 AM I had her swearing eternal love, complete subjectivity to me & immediate satisfaction. I, anticipating even more pleasure, wouldn’t allow her to blow me on the bus, instead we played, as they say, with each other. Knowing her supremely perfect being was completely mine (when I’m more coherent, I’ll tell you her complete history & psychological reason for loving me) I could concieve of no obstacle to my satisfaction, well, “the best laid plans of mice & men go astray” and my nemesis was her sister, the bitch. …In complete (try & share my feeling) dejection, I sat, as the bus progressed toward Kansas City. At Columbia, Mo. a young (19) completely passive (my meat) virgin got on & shared my seat. In my dejection over losing Pat, the perfect, I decided to sit on the bus (behind the driver) in broad daylight & seduce her, from 10:30 AM to 2:30 PM I talked. When I was done, she (confused, her entire life upset, metaphysically amazed at me, passionate in her immaturity) called her folks in Kansas City, & went with me to a park (it was just getting dark) & I banged her; I screwed her as never before; all my pent up emotion finding release in this young virgin (& she was) who is, by the way, a school teacher! This quote, or for that matter the entire plot, would fit without anyone noticing any discrepancy as a case study in Cleckey’s psychopathy examples in The Mask of Sanity.
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