And by the way, when in hell is someone going to make a Kerouac biopic?? Looking at him in some of these portraits, I nominate Daniel Craig. Yes... James Bond. They sorta look alike.
In which a writer waxes poetic from his favorite room in the house, nicknamed Hemingway's Lounge
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” Got your fine letter - Yes, we’ll find you some place to stay in the city when you get here,” writes Kerouac from Frisco. “...I’ll meet you at the bus station (or some pre-arranged bar) and I’ll carry your bag and we’ll go find a room. ... You’ll love it here, it’s great... There are art museums, beaches, glorious parks, those Chinese restaurants, wharves, waterfront, all kinds of interesting scenes and people , lotsa jazz, friends to make. Just ignore me, my gloom, unless I feel better when you get here. As ever. - Jack.”Yet at times, the roguish charm that was all too much the real Kerouac intrinsically breaks through and the reader can almost hear the young Johnson cringe as she reads her boyfriend’s frank letters:
“Look forward to seeing you,” Kerouac writes from Tangiers, “lonely here, don’t like whores anyway and no girls speak English.” Ouch. To that all Johnson says, “It was as if he forgotten for a moment whom he was writing to. But I decided not to probe into the question whether or not Jack was seeing other women - a policy I would later try to stick with much greater difficulty.”As Kerouac struggles with a bewildering fame, readers will find the work an remarkable portrait as he struggles to cope with his public, dodge critical attacks against his subsequent works and teeter totter his relationship with the only woman who might have truly understood him.