A Heartbreak Hipster ReviewWith Kerouac being one of my father's favourite authors - (he takes The Dharma Bums with him whenever we travel. He even named our first dog after him, though we kids were unable to pronounce the name, and so just called him “Wacky”) - I have always been encouraged to read some of his work. Along with Hemingway - and several others of this respected, but unvisited, calibre - I have always intended to read something of his, eventually. And so finally, having finished Maggie Cassidy - (one of Kerouac's more unusual stories - they say - as it harkens back to his high schools days, before he became the legendary spokesman of the "Beat Generation") - I can finally tick that box off. So, was it worth it?To be honest, I was worried that it wasn't when I started. I was a virgin to this man's writings ...Fucking it hurt when he punctured my hymen.And Kerouac has a very distinct way of writing. He has a way of unravelling never-ending sentences - (I swear to God, (not literally, of course), there would sometimes be over three pages before a full-stop, or even a semi-colan, made an appearance) - and considering this, coupled with his sometimes overly-obscure way of describing things that seem (from time to time) a little irrelevant, I did find this book kind of hard going at times. Many a time, I would finish one of his 50-page sentences, look up from the book with a smirk of contentment, and then be like ... "wait, what?" -I guess it depends on the angle that you read it from. In some ways, I would sympathise with somebody that stopped me randomly on the street, and told me that they couldn't stand Kerouac's style, because it didn't make any damned sense. I would sympathise with them; I would pat them on the back, buy them a nice cup of coffee, and then gently explain that I understand ... some people just don't like books that actually have creative and original storytelling … “now walk your ass into Dymocks and buy the new James Patterson book (Naughts And Crosses, or Sign Of The Cross, or something with the word “Cross” in it, for fuck’s sake) you fucking idiot - get out, you ... and don't randomly talk to me on the street again!! I’ve got to get to Kmart, where I can stand behind the till for nine hours, thinking of reasons not to kill myself …“I’m going to go back to college, and suddenly change the way I am, and everyone is going to love me all of a sudden” …Yeah, that will do.So yeah, I will admit that it did take a little while for things to get going. But so does masturbation … especially with all the anti-depressants I’ve been taking. After a long and jumbled introduction to Senior Protagonisto and his high school chums - which, in itself, was unsettling for its long-windedness, and refusal to keep to the point, or make much sense - the story thankfully zones in on the strange but endearing relationship between Jack Duluoz and Maggie Cassidy. Though Kerouac applies a most painstaking effort in conveying the attractiveness of this sad, dark, contradicted girl, his efforts soon become overwhelming (unless, of course, you’re taking note of all his highly colourful and bizarre descriterions … which I’m afraid to say, I was - Oh, for fuck … would you get a load of my Evernote's auto-correct? Des-crit-pions? "Who programmed this crap? I bet he’s a fucking dumbs shit. Why, I shall go have a word with him right now. Now look here, sir. Turn around so I can tell you what a fucking idiot you ... "Oh. Oh dear. I am so, so sorry".But as I was saying - (before that redicuolous spelling error pissed me off and prompted me to purposely slam my fingers in the backdoor) - Kerouac’s descritpions of Maggie Cassidy’s youthful perfection is done so profoundly over-the-top … like, pretty damned profound, mate … that the images it evoked in my mind were nothing but obscure suggestions, which my subconscious ... (you know, that word from 50 Shades Of Grey And by the way, I would still have to think twice about seeing that shit, even if I had myself a girlfriend … which I don’t, of course. You can apply for that on www. you’re-the-worst-thing-that-happened-to-me .com) … just kind of fashioned into its own vague image of beauty. I suppose that Maggie Cassidy can just be however you want her to look. She’s pretty, mate. What else do you need? Do you need to be constantly reminded about how her clothes are “hanging off her”, like with Christian Grey? ”You’ve had six orgasms so far, and all of them belong to me”.The story itself isn’t anything too special. It’s a very simple, though somewhat charming, coming-of-age tale, about a boy who grows up in a small milling town in northern Massachusetts. His life up to this point has been focussed on his sporting passions; it’s made clear from the start, that Jack Duluoz isn’t starved for attention or friendship. Lucky bastard already has one girl in love with him before he falls in love with someone else. He’s a burly, athletic young man, with a close and loving family, and though his friends harbour questionable prioties - (DAMN YOU, EVERNOTE!!!) - they are all still there for one another. But school is coming to a close as he begins his budding romance with Maggie Cassidy. And after the main section of the book - which details his on-and-off relationship with the girl, who inflicts a form of emotional torture on him, by being, within moments, a passionate sex pot, a clingy friend who says weird shit like “Oh, fer krissakes, you millin er sumpen” ( … fucken, learn how to talk) … and a total bitch who kicks him out of the house, and tells him to walk home ... three miles through a fucking New England blizzard, you understand?The story then moves on to what awaits our protagonist after school. But I won’t give away anything more. What I think really helps this book ... what allows it to transcend the somewhat opaque prose of its author … is (though I contradict myself), the writing itself. For as many times as it may come across as a little weird, and not really make complete sense ... more often than not, it does, in fact, have a peculiar way of streaming into your mind and evoking some fantastic imagery that appeals not just to the visual sense, but on a more emotional level, as well. Sometimes I struggled with interpreting the sentences … but other times, I almost forgot I was reading; it was as if his words had swept me away to the snowy town of Lowell itself. Such moments included the part when Maggie leans over the chair and kisses Jack, upside down ... the feel of her breats pushing into the back of his neck ... her hair lying tickingly over his face. The part when Jack weighs up the Negro athlete at the tracking marathon. The part when he sits at the kitchen window, watching all his friends trudging through the snow, past his house and up to another where there is to be a surprise birthday party for him. For a while, I was planning on giving this book three stars. But after reaching the end, I realized that, while there have been many books I enjoyed reading more, none have provided an experience quite like this. There is something powerful in this story, but it’s very understated … almost missable. And in the end, I had to reward it for that. All things considered, Maggie Cassidy is a nice, simple story about a boy and girl who find a connection in the prime of their youths … it explores the beauty, the heartache, and the confusion of falling in love … and essentially, it encourages us to see that, at the end of our lives, such momentous encounters like this are really not as big and infinitely dominant as they might sometimes seem to be. They are just yet another of life’s great experiences ... something beautiful and natural ... sometimes happy, sometimes painful … and something that we all must come to experience and remember, in whatever shape or form, if we are to call ourselves human.Except being the frozen coil of unexpressed sorrow, there were a few things I can’t quite get off my chest. Well, not without unblocking my Ex-Girlfriend on Facebook, and telling her to leave her boyfriend, otherwise I’ll do something drastic. 1) When Jack goes to college in New York, and his friend writes to him by letter, he keeps on referring to their hometown as being “down here”. Now, if your brain is normal, then this really shouldn’t bother you. But for me, it caused substantial mental torment. Even my psychiatrist throws his hands up and tells me I’m a nutcase. But I just can’t get my head around why this guy would refer to his hometown as the more southern point, in relation to New York City, when Lowell, Massachusetts, is obviously further north. I literally had to reason with myself here … eventually coming to the desired concsluion that his friend was just a little dumb, and didn’t know the geographical setting of his own country. 2) When I lapse in the throngs of midnight twilight sad dreams owl asleep in dripping tree, I picture life like flower petal opened blooming hopes like new waxed car in sheen of morning glow. The stars are like the speckled ground of litter fires broken dreams small remnants of what once had seemed like more than merely grand ideas. If you found this sentence annoying - fucking, though I doubt anyone is even reading this false hope letters hanged with faded times of better minds, loser in the dread of dark - then think about how I had felt. This book is full of stuff like this. The guy did not like using commas, it seemed. “Spontaneous Prose”? That meant to justify it? My bowels are spontaneous, but I don’t glorify that shit, do I?3) This book explores the joys and woes of having a high school sweetheart. How come I never got to have a high school sweetheart? Oh ... That's right.More of these reviews here: https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/...
Jackie Duluoz, lo pseudonimo che Kerouac scelse per se stesso all’interno di quella leggenda che fu la sua vita — autore complesso, la cui opera è strettamente legata al substrato sociale dell’America degli anni ’50 e ’60, le lotte di classe, la guerra fredda, il Vietnam, avvenimenti di cui fu testimone con la sua generazione — prima delle scorribande in lungo e in largo per il continente ampiamente narrate nei suoi libri più famosi (per esempio in Sulla strada) e di cui il pubblico ha spesso travisato e tuttora insiste a travisare il senso — in questo romanzo racconta la sua giovinezza a Lowell, Massachussetts. Una storia d’amore adolescente, quella con Mary Carney — qui chiamata Maggie Cassidy — è per Kerouac lo spunto per far rivivere il cuore desolato del New England, la sua perduta giovinezza, l’impietoso incontro col proprio futuro a New York — città crudele, a cui la dolce e ostinata Maggie non vorrà cedere, continuando a scegliere in eterno la sua veranda, gli alberi curvi sulla sua strada e il ricordo di un ragazzo con i paraorecchie non ancora reso “freddo” dai fantasmi della vita vera.È il 1939, la guerra è già iniziata ma l’America non ne è ancora stata toccata, non dal suo interno (“Nessuna idea nel 1939 che il mondo sarebbe impazzito”) — personaggi marginali appaiono e scompaiono inghiottiti dalla bestia misteriosa (“Ned Layne il lottatore che era comproprietario del chiosco […] sarebbe morto in guerra – laggiù nessuno avrebbe potuto combattere secondo le proprie capacità – l’amica di mia sorella, l’amichetta del cuore di gioventù di mia sorella che stava per sposarlo era completamente fuori strada nella dura realtà del mondo intero”), ma Jack è un ragazzo e Maggie è una ragazza e tutto il mondo per loro è racchiuso in piccole balere, nel piccolo sogno innocente di un nido d’amore al lato della ferrovia, le imposte rosse, e gesti casalinghi al ritorno dal lavoro, nella neve – Maggie irremovibile, negli anni, Jack che si domanda se può farlo veramente, vacilla, il tempo cambia tutto.Leggi la recensione qui: https://zeldasroom.wordpress.com/2015...
What do You think about Maggie Cassidy (1993)?
I've just out this book down and am currently torn. On one hand, Kerouac requires patience, a bit of a run-up, time to settle in to his rhythms. At some points, I didn't give him that, but when I did it was fantastic. When I didn't I was disappointed. Equally, it's a first novel and a little messy - in good ways and in bad - at turns not quite hitting the mark and resulting in delightfully madcap, onomatopoeic run-on sentences. When its good, it's really, really good, and following at its natural pace can feel all too fleeting. My ultimate issue, though, is with the characterisation of Maggie. She's imperfect and temperamental and it's young love and jealousy and rage and disappointment — but it's the crazy and hotheaded but sweet and sexy girl we've see a million times, even for its time, and that's what really lets it down. I never really knew what Jack likes about her, except her looks, and so the ending brought the whole thing to a whimper of an ending. Still, though, Kerouac fans should give it a read.
—Nicola
One of my favorite books. Its mostly over looked by your run of the mill Jack Kerouac fans. Nothing like On the Road, its not about being a beatnik. There are no drugs or road trips or crazy jazzmen...Its a sweet love story set in pure Americana in 20's Lowell. I prefer the stories of his youth like Maggie Cassidy and Visions of Gerard (Dylan's favorite Kerouac book). These books tend to have all the elements of the more beatnik books but without the trendiness of the beats.The kiss scene is one the bests. I gave it to my wife.Most people don't realize it but while Ginsburg was having the Be-ins Kerouac was voting for Nixon...
—Mike Sweeney
Jack Kerouac embodies Americana. Plain and simple.Father-Son relationships. Blue Collar America. Wild, silly friendships. Small(ish) towns. All some of my favorite things.One of the greatest love stories I've ever read, "Maggie Cassidy" so accurately exemplifies friendship, young love, and adolescence. To fool friends and family for the heart of a woman, as flawed as she may be, while simulatenously battling the confusion of growing up, Kerouac illustrates that our decisions as youngsters really do shape our future as well as the relationships of those closest to us.
—Michael Irenski
