He and Jack immediately became fast friends based on their shared passion for writing. Holmes was born on March 12, in Holyoke, Massachusetts exactly four years younger than Jack who was born on the same day in It was unparagrahed, using all the original names and everything. He just flung it down.
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He and Jack immediately became fast friends based on their shared passion for writing. Holmes was born on March 12, in Holyoke, Massachusetts exactly four years younger than Jack who was born on the same day in It was unparagrahed, using all the original names and everything.
He just flung it down. He could disassociate himself from his fingers, and he was simply following the movie in his head. I remember going down there. Lucien was there, and we were all waiting to go out and do something, and Jack had to finish typing up this chapter.
It was noon. So it must have been a week after that that he finished and took it to Giroux and Harcourt, Brace. Two weeks maybe. He never told me the details. We wanted another novel like The Town and the City. Here he was, after all the difficulty of writing the book, all the false starts, he thought he had something. So he delivered it to Big Daddy, and then when Big Daddy said no, he was both angry-he was angry on the surface-but I think much more important, he was confused.
I read On the Road. He had not even read it. He brought it to me and it was a roll like a big piece of salami. And he was so confused and exhausted when he was finished. It was much longer than the book is now, about a third longer, and it went on and on and on. It took me a whole day to read it. I read it like a Chinese scroll.
And it was one paragraph! Of , words, with the names unchanged. We all used to do that then. I knew it was good. I knew it was something. His work always changed my days, whenever I read anything.
His enormous capacity for sense impressions and his gift for catching them on the fly somehow, always changed my reality whenever I read his stuff. I took it to my agent, MCA, who read it and liked it, but also was kind of persnickety about it, but nevertheless took it on, and they finally-Phyllis Jackson-sent the book to Viking, and Viking said maybe. And that maybe lasted for an awful long time. Meanwhile Jack left town and became a bum, in effect. Worked on the railroad and the whole thing, and went on writing all those books for which we know and love him.
It was snowing. I was living on Forty-Eighth Street on the fifth floor of an old tenement, and I read that whole damned book Visions of Cody in one day.
Nobody but me and Allen and a few people would ever read it, it seemed to me. I thought, "Oh, God, Jack! I was of two minds. I still am. In those years, in the fifties, it seemed to me most important that somebody come to understand him.
John Clellon Holmes Quotes
Religious or atheist? Kierkegaard or Sartre? We know after Holmes came home from World War II that he confessed that upon entering his chapel he found he could no longer pray. Holmes had reached the metaphysical-psychological state that Kierkegaard called Dread. But to trace this deep seated feeling of dread, for Kierkegaard, a human being has to be dragged through several phases of the human condition. Kierkegaard tells us that people go will through three stages of life and that each stage ultimately takes one to the dread of metaphysical Angst. In order, the three stages of life are the aesthetic stage i.
John Clellon Holmes’ Existentialist Dilemma
Shelves: our-books , fiction-general Go is generally regarded as the first novel of the Beat Generation, written between and , and first published in , nearly sixty years ago. I first read it when I was 20, fifty years ago, and rereading it after all that time is a rather strange experience. They are the people who came home from the war, whom I used to meet in bars around Durban, those boozy old men. In I used to Go is generally regarded as the first novel of the Beat Generation, written between and , and first published in , nearly sixty years ago. In I used to go for lunch at the Grosvenor Hotel in Soldiers Way across the road from Durban station and sip my solitary beer and eat my 15c curry for lunch, and hear them talking about Smiler Small, who used to frequent the bar in Malvern, and I used to look at all the World War II memorabilia decorating the bar. It never occurred to me that those people, who frequented bars like that, were the Beat Generation, and yet they were.