Kerouac’s America: Jazz and Life on the Road Essay

Jack Kerouac’s On the Road portrays the entire spectrum of American experience- from the migrant worker to the deranged artist to the Midwestern farmer. All of these discordant figures he blends together into one tapestry, creating a picture of the United States that, even if sometimes bleak, is always sympathetic. Kerouac’s vision of America is best reflected through his observations on jazz and life on the road. Jazz has often been called the only truly American art form and its place in On the Road is appropriately significant. When Kerouac writes of be-bop jam sessions he describes these events as decidedly more violent, more passionate, and more alive than the typical concert. In one instance, a saxophonist’s solo drives Dean Moriarty into a trance, â€Å"clapping his hands, [and] pouring sweat on the man’s keys†¦Ã¢â‚¬  (198). Sal and Dean use jazz as a means of breaking through the staid conformity of 1950s America, feeding off its infectious energy. Having grown intolerant of dull, prosaic experience Sal proclaims, â€Å"the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved†¦Ã¢â‚¬  (5). On the Road itself is the product of such a creative frenzy, full of wild run-on sentences and disjointed syntax. The urgency apparent in Jazz is also at the root of Sal and Dean’s travels across the country. They roam from coast to coast oftentimes without any concrete motivation besides the joy of the ride and an innate restlessness. They seek to somehow transcend the physical world through drugs or sex or non-stop conversation, but never quite reach the â€Å" ‘IT,’† of which Dean speaks to Sal. Jazz does allow them to approach something near this quasi-religious transcendence and thus, they enshrine jazz musicians as saints, or even gods. In one instance, Dean adamantly refers to the blind pianist George Shearing as â€Å" ‘Old God Shearing! ’† and to his empty piano seat as â€Å" ‘God’s empty chair† (128). The Jazz clubs operate as secular churches for Sal and his companions, places where spirituality can be revitalized and restored. The â€Å"Beat† figures portrayed in On the Road do not seek to destroy social and religious traditions, as many would suggest, but rather to restore some of their soulfulness, their purity. Jazz, at its best, serves as medium to help usher in this new paradigm. Kerouac asserts that, in a way, America’s true religion is its music. Nowhere in On the Road is the American scene painted as well as on Sal’s first experience with life on the road. That initial experience, as well as those that follow it, lends Sal a deeper insight into a set of truly American types. He meets with drifters, farm boys, and migrant workers hitching a ride on the back of a pickup truck. The feeling of easy camaraderie between the fellow hitchhikers is nowhere to be found in contemporary America- the farm boys’ call â€Å" ‘sroom for everybody’† recalls a much different time (22). Kerouac’s America moves not only at the break neck pace of a Charlie Parker saxophone solo, but also slows to the pace of characters like Mississippi Gene whose â€Å"language [is] melodious and slow† (23). Whereas life in the city is characterized by loud jazz played late into the night, life on the road is filled with slow, melodious voices like that of Mississippi Gene. Mississippi Gene also brings out the dark side of life on the road, telling Sal that he’ll â€Å" ‘folly a man down an alley’† if he ever needs money (23), though most of the characters Sal meets are described as â€Å"grateful and gracious† (28). By hitchhiking, Sal is able to form genuine bonds with folks just struggling to get by, and this sense of egalitarian fellowship pervades his journey. The road not only allows Sal to meet people he might not ordinarily come in contact with, but also to gain more knowledge of himself. When Dean cries out at the beginning of one journey that â€Å"we should realize what it would mean to us to understand  that we’re not really  worried about anything,† one senses that traveling, for Sal and Dean, is as much about letting go of yourself as it is about getting to your destination. Sal, however, never seems to achieve this letting go, weighed down by a cry of â€Å"What gloom! † (52). But there are moments in which he approaches that ecstatic state Dean refers to as â€Å"IT,† as in a conversation on one cross-country trip with Dean, where Sal describes â€Å"our final excited joy in talking and living† (209). But of course, On the Road portrays experience much more varied than pure wide-eyed ecstasy. The aforementioned dark side of life on the road looms everywhere in the novel and extends further than just the possibility of being mugged or assaulted. There is also the problem of too much freedom- the possibility that one will roam so much that one will permanently lose one’s center. Dean’s New York apartment contains â€Å"the same battered trunk stuck out from under the bed, ready to fly,† suggesting that no matter where he goes, his soul is always on the road (250). One begins to wonder if Sal and Dean’s journeys are motivated as much by an attempt to escape themselves as to see the country. But though the trials of the road leads Sal at a one point to lament that he’s â€Å"sick and tired of life† (106), he also â€Å"figures the gain† of traveling above its inevitable losses. Here, Kerouac subverts business terminology like â€Å"loss† and â€Å"gain,† and gives them a spiritual import, illuminating the central thrust of On the Road- Americans should start thinking about spiritual profit rather than just economic dominance. Accruing such spiritual profit involves taking risks and being able to embrace the freedom to travel uncharted physical, mental, and spiritual territory. This underlying principle of freedom is at the root of both jazz and life on the road, whether one is exploring a landscape or the nuances of a musical phrase. In On the Road, Jack Kerouac wrote of an America that celebrated these freedoms.