I was first introduced to the work of Jack Kerouac about 1974 or so by my friend, mentor, and professor Bob Snyder. At about the same time, he introduced me to Kerouac, Mildred Haun, and Francois Villon. You can't ask for a much better threesome of authors to come to know. Since then, I have read every word I can find by all three. I devoured Kerouac's work much like a famished person just rescued from a long stranding in a wilderness would have devoured a good breakfast of sausage, eggs, biscuits, gravy, and fried apples. I have returned more than once to one or another of Kerouac's books over the years and every time I am deeply impressed by the skill with which he wrote, and the obvious rapidity of his working style. "The Subterraneans" has always been one of my four or five favorite Kerouac novels. Some people refer to it as a novella since it is only about 150 pages. But for me, it is much a novel as any of his other novels. It is also one of only two novels in his oeuvre which come across as totally loving, sweet, beautiful, without any level of animosity, anger, fear, or any other negative emotion.
The novel is about a love affair between the narrator, Leo Percepied, an alter ego of Kerouac himself, and a beautiful young African American woman named Mardou Fox. The affair is brief, meteoric, heart warming, trusting, and everything an unforgettable love affair should be despite coming to an end which is described in the most simple terms: "And I go home, having lost our love. And write this book."
When it's over, it's over, and yet it leaves an impression on the reader just as deep and meaningful as it has left on the character Kerouac created due to whatever previous events in his life that served as the impetus for this wonderful, loving little novel might have been. I suspect this won't be last time I ever pick this sweet little book up to read once again. And every time I do that, I always find myself thanking God for both Jack Kerouac and Bob Snyder.
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