Sunday, March 18
Kerouac's scroll
So I did something kinda cool yesterday (well, OK, 'cool' in the sense of it being something not very ordinary to do for someone who lives on the edge of nowhere): I drove down to the Denver Public Library and took a look at the famous Kerouac scroll manuscript from "On the Road." I couldn't convince any of the family to go with me, so it was solo pilgrimage. And no photos please, so you'll have to check out one of the links below to see a photo.
Up on the fifth floor, in a sixty-foot long glass and steel box raised about four feet off the ground was the second half of his novel, in early draft form. Legend has it he was a fast typist (100 words a minute, according to the wall-mounted info) that he hated having to slow down to change pages in his typewriters (or maybe it was the speed), so he got these long pieces of paper that he could just keep typing. Then he taped them all together, 119 feet 8 inches worth. All single-spaced, and more or less margin free.
I think it said there were 170,000 words on the scroll, which legend says he typed in three weeks. It was the ultimate National Novel Writing Month effort. Then it took him seven years to get it published, included 10 rejections, including from the publisher of his first books. Go figure.
The scroll was sold at auction a few years ago to the millionaire who owns the Indianapolis Colts football team. And he's been showing it at libraries around the country.
It was pretty cool to see, I'll admit. Dense, dark type. Single spaced. A few pencil marks here and there, a few xxxxxed-out spots. Mostly just intensity. I can picture him hunched over his typewriter, his mind going a trillion-miles-a-minute. Now, once upon a time, like all 20-year-old males, I definitely had an "On The Road" phase where I thought it was the like totally most awesomest book ever. I've made my share of long road trips by car, no doubt somewhat inspired by Mr. Kerouac.
Then maybe five years ago I re-read "On the Road" and I didn't like it at all. Too much. It made me tired. Maybe I'm getting old, but that's OK too. So my favorite Kerouac book is now: The Dharma Bums. Go read it, class.
Up on the fifth floor, in a sixty-foot long glass and steel box raised about four feet off the ground was the second half of his novel, in early draft form. Legend has it he was a fast typist (100 words a minute, according to the wall-mounted info) that he hated having to slow down to change pages in his typewriters (or maybe it was the speed), so he got these long pieces of paper that he could just keep typing. Then he taped them all together, 119 feet 8 inches worth. All single-spaced, and more or less margin free.
I think it said there were 170,000 words on the scroll, which legend says he typed in three weeks. It was the ultimate National Novel Writing Month effort. Then it took him seven years to get it published, included 10 rejections, including from the publisher of his first books. Go figure.
The scroll was sold at auction a few years ago to the millionaire who owns the Indianapolis Colts football team. And he's been showing it at libraries around the country.
It was pretty cool to see, I'll admit. Dense, dark type. Single spaced. A few pencil marks here and there, a few xxxxxed-out spots. Mostly just intensity. I can picture him hunched over his typewriter, his mind going a trillion-miles-a-minute. Now, once upon a time, like all 20-year-old males, I definitely had an "On The Road" phase where I thought it was the like totally most awesomest book ever. I've made my share of long road trips by car, no doubt somewhat inspired by Mr. Kerouac.
Then maybe five years ago I re-read "On the Road" and I didn't like it at all. Too much. It made me tired. Maybe I'm getting old, but that's OK too. So my favorite Kerouac book is now: The Dharma Bums. Go read it, class.
