I had finished On the Road just in time for my trip to Philadelphia. Let me just say that it was an interesting read. Kerouac certainly developed a new style of writing -- spontaneous prose -- which I was not accustomed to. But the novel is most engrossing, and I definitely suggest reading if you haven't already. I feel different about my life where I am, where I have been, and where I am going, as a result of reading the book. I talk different, think different. I shower less.

I started reading an anthology of Kerouac's selected letters for the trip east. Jack Kerouac, Selected Letters, 1957-1969 is the second volume of a large trove of letters that Jack wrote (and received) from the time of publishing On the Road, which made him famous, and his untimely death.


Image: Kinokuniya BookWeb

I came into possession of this book while at Syracuse, during one of my many bookstore jaunts, and I thought the cover was cool, recognized the author, postulated that someday I'd get around to finally reading On the Road (and guess what, I did), so I figured this book was worth purchasing. And there couldn't be a better way to follow On the Road than reading his personal letters discussing its publishing. So far, it has been fascinating.

Also, for a month or two in 1957, Kerouac made 1943 Berkeley Way here in Berkeley, California, his home, and I plan on checking that out during lunch sometime this week. (I wonder if the current residents know that.)

Labels: california, reading, syracuse