This week, for the very first time, I listened to Howl in its entirety. I loved it so much that I'm ashamed to have not done it earlier. To be clear, I've never read the entire poem either, only knew a few key phrases, and I've held a bit of disdain for the poet who seems to never touch iambic pentameter, but hearing it made me fall in love for the poem - every part in its very place.
It's profoundly spiritual in a way that I would never have understood at 16. I envy a 16 year old who could understand such a creation as Ginsberg's Moloch.
The constant references that Ginsberg and Burroughs and Kerouac make with each other are surprisingly insular - though I could easily live without Kerouac but could never live without Allen or Bill. Bill of course can never be considered without Allen.
I have to tell you that I'm very much looking forward to this Kaddish I've heard about.
No comments:
Post a Comment