Burroughs and Keroauc? Written in 1945? Sign me up. And then let me down. It should be said that I have never been a big fan of On the Road; it didn't inspire me.
I was expecting to be awed by the exploration these two put forth of New York City and the early culture they experienced at the dawn of the Beats...alas, this was choppy and mundane. "We went here. We did this. Then we walked over here and did some of that." Seriously? Apparently these burgeoning kings of culture literally walked from bar to bar, drank a lot of beer on other peoples' dimes and then staggered from apartment to apartment. All this while being disenchanted with their company and not being impressed by their closest friends.
My biggest disappointment came from the expectations set from the back cover. Touted as a murder mystery (based on real events witnessed by WLB and JK) that questions bigger issues, I found neither very riveting. Especially since the questions posed were so vague they didn't even elicit a second thought, let alone deeper ones. Bah.
My one compliment does speak to the writing. The chapters alternate voices, and the two characters were fully formed with distinct characteristics that also blended seamlessly with one another, flowing from one to the other.
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