photo taken from: http://www.jackkerouac.com/about/photos.htm
Let me tell you about a favorite author, Jack Kerouac. Jack Kerouac, a beat writer in the 1950's, captured the essence and the angst (of course in his time they have not invented that word yet) of a generation that lost its innocence. it's soul torn apart by the ugliness of war, of the establishment, of the general wear and tear. I first found his book, On The Road, in one of those ubiquitous second bookshops in Baguio, and reading the first few paragraphs of this book got me hooked. Now, you'd ask, why does a seemingly staid (ha!), nerdy preacher guy find Jack Kerouac interesting? His writing style is hypnotic. His prose grabs you and sucks you in and you emerge from the haze changed. Jack Kerouac is not a nice man by all means, but he spoke straight from his being, and his stories become our stories, his quest for meaning ultimately become ours. I will write more about my thoughts on him one of these days. I just got to think of him when i read olbjoy's post, i don't know why.
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."... Jack Kerouac “On The Road”
Let me tell you about a favorite author, Jack Kerouac. Jack Kerouac, a beat writer in the 1950's, captured the essence and the angst (of course in his time they have not invented that word yet) of a generation that lost its innocence. it's soul torn apart by the ugliness of war, of the establishment, of the general wear and tear. I first found his book, On The Road, in one of those ubiquitous second bookshops in Baguio, and reading the first few paragraphs of this book got me hooked. Now, you'd ask, why does a seemingly staid (ha!), nerdy preacher guy find Jack Kerouac interesting? His writing style is hypnotic. His prose grabs you and sucks you in and you emerge from the haze changed. Jack Kerouac is not a nice man by all means, but he spoke straight from his being, and his stories become our stories, his quest for meaning ultimately become ours. I will write more about my thoughts on him one of these days. I just got to think of him when i read olbjoy's post, i don't know why.
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."... Jack Kerouac “On The Road”
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