An American 'classic' that sees narrator Sal Paradise recounting his travels across the USA and finally down to Mexico.
brilliant...
Ok I didn't 'get' The Catcher in the Rye, and now I can't see the fuss about On the Road, so that's two for two on classic US literature I can't appreciate. However, I liked On the Road the most of the two, because the protagonist is not obnoxious, and the style of writing is original. The stream of consciousness makes the book easy to read, and the social history of 1950's USA is interesting too.
but...
Nothing happens in this book. Sal travels from New York to Los Angeles by hitch-hiking, bus and by car. Then he travels back. And then back again. And eventually down to Mexico, and back. All the time hero-worshipping bum/waster Dean Moriarty, who actually is quite irritating. If it wasn't for all the casual skirt that both characters chase, and the casual homophobia, I'd expect this to be an unrequited love story. But it isn't. It's a plotless, almost-tedious snorefest with few characters to care about, too much detail about specific bits of each journey and little character-development. Although it is heartening to see that Sal appears to tire of Dean's more erratic ways as time moves on, it takes too long for him to see this loser for who he is. And then I'm not she he actually does see this.
briefly...
Well I'm glad I read On the Road, because now I don't have to see it again. Well written but ultimately pointless.
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