Something Cult, Foreign-Language or Indie #89: On the Road (1957).

It was the 1957 novel that defined and epitomised the Beat Generation before inspiring the Baby Boomers and Gen-X on. Not to mention the (main) novel that taught me, as an Arts university student, that being in a syllabus isn't always the kiss of death for a book. Jack Kerouac's seminal and exhilarating semi-autobiographical tale of uptight writer Sal Paradise's trek across the American landscape, infused with sex, drugs and jazz alongside his live-wire wingman Dean Moriarty (based on Kerouac's mate Neal Cassady), encountering many even more eccentric and hedonistic types en route.

Call me lazy, but after covering so many films in this series, along with two bands and two TV series, I thought it was time to discuss a book, and as well as this being one of my absolute favourites there, I consider On the Road a cult novel. The original teletype paper scroll Kerouac wrote it on even toured American in 2007 for the novel's 50th anniversary and still attracts fan visits, which I think qualifies it for cult status. Anyway, love or hate it (and Kerouac's writing style, which he called "Spontaneous prose," definitely isn't for everybody), this is a very hard novel to shake once you've read it. The content must've ruffled many feathers in its day but that's partly why it was an instant sensation, and considering its era as you read it today helps it retain that original daring. But it really caught on because it resonated profoundly with the postwar generation who largely felt trapped in lives of wholesomeness and domestic safety, and I think most generations since have experienced some of that also. It's just timeless, at least in that respect, and for a free spirit like me (albeit one who has and will never touch illicit drugs), it offers an intense rush each time.

The two heroes are often intentionally unlikable (Sal is very downbeat and Dean fucks practically anything in sight), but they consistently feel realistic, and their platonic brotherly connection is explored ultimately with gratitude and a lack of judgment. And Kerouac very observantly uses the landscape as an imposing metaphor for what they get from each other, and a celebration of liberty and friendship. Ignore the 2012 film; it's okay, but it falls far short of the poignancy and proud subversion Kerouac delivered here. On the Road is one of the 20th century's most esteemed novels for a reason. It is true magic.