![]() ![]() The last, the final one: "Happy, happy, the little gasoline fumes," eulogizes. ![]() He is celebrating life again-with ruthless inclusiveness, down to the last molecule. Perhaps none of this would much matter, if only the book were a fresh departure, instead of merely another version of the single, interminable matter if only the book were a fresh book that Kerouac has been writing all these years. Proclaim and the characters are as fatuous in life as in art and, as if to deny us even a low pleasure, Kerouac goes to considerable pains to identify his friends and business associates, stopping just short of spelling their names correctly.Īnd for future historians of defunct movements who after plumbing the archives still do not know the poet of (as it is here) "Howling" or the author of "Nude Supper," Seymour Krim provides the key in his exegetical introduction. ![]() But if the term is to retain a shred of meaning, the book is not a novel, whatever the dust jacket may Jack Kerouac's indifferently awaited "Desolation Angels" might appeal to our basest nature as a roman à clef. F it were in fact a novel, and if the prototypes were at all interesting, and if it succeeded with some craft and art in playing the game of identity, ![]()
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