"I saw the best minds of my
generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, / dragging
themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix / angelheaded
hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in
the machinery of night," - from "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg
And with those words, poet Allen Ginsberg created a manifesto for a
whole generation – a group of people who felt like they didn't belong anywhere
in 1950s society. Not in the paranoid hype of Senator Joseph McCarthy's
Communist witch hunts, not in President Eisenhower's military war machine, and
not in the sterile sitcom suburbia of Leave
It To Beaver. Ginsberg was speaking for the disenfranchised everywhere with
his poem that celebrated everything that was taboo. The media soon picked up on
this small movement, and built up its most charismatic members – Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William S. Burroughs – to mythic proportions. The Beat Generation,
as it came to be known, began to mutate into something different from its
original intentions. Antiquated terms like "beatnik" and
"hipster" became the watchwords of this new entity. It even acquired
its own dress code: berets, turtlenecks, and goatees, all to the beat of the
bongos. In short the Beat Generation became a parody of itself. But it didn't
start out that way.
In 1943, a young Allen Ginsberg arrived at Columbia University in New
York City with the intention of becoming a labor lawyer. Being the son of a
poet, Ginsberg had some pretensions to the written word and with fellow
undergraduate Lucien Carr they became interested in finding a "New
Vision" in literature. This pursuit led them to form a friendship with two
aspiring writers, Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs in 1944. Kerouac was at
Columbia on a football scholarship, but an injury had cut his career short and
as a result he began to study literature. Burroughs met the other three men
through an acquaintance of Kerouac's and impressed them with his vast knowledge
of literature and the refined way in which he carried himself. Being older than
the others, Burroughs became like a teacher to the young men, introducing them
to all kinds of European authors and initiating them into drug culture. He
subsequently presented the group to his drug contact, Herbert Huncke, a Times
Square hustler who embodied what would later become the rather nebulous term,
"beat."
The arrival of 1946 brought an important element to this ever-increasing
group of writers. Neal Cassady, a friend of Ginsberg's from Denver, arrived in
New York City on a Greyhound bus and became Ginsberg's lover and good friends
with Kerouac. Cassady, with his charismatic manic energy, was an important
catalyst to the group – particularly to Kerouac who transformed Cassady into
the mythical central character of two of his novels, On the Road and Visions of Cody. Cassady also symbolized everything that was "beat" but on
the opposite end of the spectrum to Huncke: he was wild, unpredictable, and,
more importantly in Kerouac's eyes, the essence of spontaneity. Along with
be-bop jazz, Cassady's frenetic lifestyle provided the inspiration for
Kerouac's own literary style, which he later called, "Spontaneous Bop
Prosody." In essence, it was Kerouac's attempt to emulate jazz in his
prose. As he once explained, "by not revising what you've already written
you simply give the reader the actual workings of your mind during the writing
itself." The musical cadences in Kerouac's work become readily apparent
when you hear the man himself read his own prose and this gives a whole new
perspective to the printed word.
"...because 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 say a
commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman
candles..." - from On the Road by Jack Kerouac
The group now had all the elements that they needed for their "New
Vision" except a name for their group, which did not present itself until
1948 when Kerouac met another aspiring writer in New York named John Clellon Holmes. As Kerouac remembers they were "sitting around trying to think up
the meaning of the Lost Generation and the subsequent Existentialism and I said
'You know this is really a beat generation.' And he leapt up and said
"That's it, that's right!'" The "beat" for Kerouac and the
others took on several meanings. It could be seen as being "beat" and
"beaten down," as in being tired and worn out, or the
"beat" could be interpreted as "beatitude," or a sincere
belief in spirituality and God, or the third significant distinction of the
word was applied to the rhythmic beat of jazz and the fast tempo of this musical
form. Despite the many meanings of the word "beat," the core of this
crew, according to Kerouac, was "a swinging group of new American men
intent on joy," and not a group of hoodlums and criminals as the media
later tried to label them.
However, Kerouac and the others were hardly angels either. More than
anything they were a product of post-World War II malaise and out of this
developed Ginsberg's fear of the atomic age: a fear of the bomb, a fear of
contamination, and of radiation sickness or what he saw as a "disease of
the age." To escape this fear, the group experimented with all kinds of
drugs: marijuana, morphine, heroin, and Benzedrine which fueled their writing
and aided in what Ginsberg termed, "some kind of opening of mind." It
also pushed them outside of mainstream society so that they became a
"community of outlaws," as Burroughs biographer, Ted Morgan later
observed. Burroughs was known to forge stolen prescriptions for drugs and often
robbed drunks on the subway for money. Kerouac even went to jail as a material
witness for helping Lucien Carr destroy evidence after the latter had fatally
stabbed David Kammerer, another member of their group while at Columbia. This
incident also resulted in Ginsberg being sent to the Columbia Psychiatric Institute
for a short duration. They were no strangers to the fringes of society, for
they constantly lived on its edges.
"And always cops: smooth
college-trained state cops, practiced, apologetic patter, electronic eyes weigh
your car and luggage, clothes and face; snarling big city dicks, soft-spoken
country sheriffs with something black and menacing in old eyes color of a faded
grey flannel shirt...." - from Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs
Despite this dangerous side of the Beats, they were really romantics who
celebrated the little things in life that most people took for granted or
failed to notice. For Kerouac and the others, they were on a spiritual journey
that involved "walking talking poetry in the streets, walking talking God
in the streets," as Kerouac so eloquently described it in an essay for Playboy magazine. Critics and the media
tried to paint them into a corner as troublemakers who were against the world,
but they refused to be pigeon-holed by this view. In most of his public
appearances, most notably on The Steve
Allen Show, Kerouac came across as gentle, sincerely religious soul who
celebrated life, not condemning it. "This is Beat," he once said,
"Live your lives out? Naw, love your lives out."
By the early to mid-fifties, the East Coast Beats began to disperse and
Ginsberg headed out West where the scene developed in San Francisco with poets
like Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Snyder, and Michael McClure amongst others.
Kerouac and the others were going in their own directions but the friendships
between them endured over the years. This small, initially tight-knit group had
inadvertently created the blueprint for a bohemian community. They were what
historian Alfred Kazin called a "family of friends." They fed off
each other, inspired each other, and generally supported one another's interest
in writing. The result was astounding. Some of the most exciting literature to
appear in the 20th century came out of this community: Kerouac's ode to travel,
On the Road, Ginsberg's epic poem,
"Howl," and Burroughs' hallucinogenic satire, Naked Lunch. They inspired a subsequent generation and their works
continue to inspire and fascinate today. Despite what critics of their day said,
they were no fad, no flavor-of-the-month, but a strong new voice that showed a
different perspective on life: living for the moment. Their philosophy didn't
fit the modern, fast paced, 9-to-5 rat race, but rather celebrated shifting
gears and enjoying life for the short time that we experience it.
"...and nobody, nobody knows
what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I
think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never
found, I think of Dean Moriarty." - from On the Road by Jack Kerouac
Wonderful overview! They were quite a group alright, although I have to say Jack was my favorite of the lot. I just love his sense of lyricism.
ReplyDeleteBrent Allard:
ReplyDeleteThanks! Yeah, Kerouac is my fave as well. I got into him in a big big way during my last year in high school and quickly read everything I could get my hands on.