this here is bob dylan and allen ginsberg sitting at jack kerouac's grave.
i think kerouac is the prime example of what ren called the "sad" aspect of the whole addiction/consumption thing.
in his youth, a star athlete-- the running back for columbia university's football team, and in the merchant navy in WW II. ridiculously handsome and well-spoken.
after a shaky first novel, he hits his stride, and in full druggie/drinking mode, writes "on the road" and "the dharma bums", which i don't think is an overstatement to call two of the more important american novels ever written.
and then, a long slow descent into self-destruction. there's an interview he did with the french CBC (his first language was french) about 6 months before his death, where he's just a foolish, babbling drunk guy. if you compare it with his first TV appearance, on the steve allen show shortly after "on the road" comes out, the difference is shocking. from a handsome, introspective guy with a powerful artistic vision to a loud, obnoxious drunk stumbling over his own words.
if i died (which i will eventually, of course), and someone wanted to do this w/ me-- do the "l-blizz wasn't a saint", i can give reams of info to support that theory.
these "fallen" heroes, like the rest of us, are complex. i merely offer this series as a counterpoint to the hero-worship and mythologizing that these types of figures are sometimes subject to. i think all of us are wise enough to be able to see past the public figure and recognize the complexities, but it's interesting food for thought nevertheless.
i call it the "great art, bad choices" series. maybe next is the "bad art, great choices" series? hee hee hee...
