I didn’t think I would like this book, but it turned out I really like it. Still I don’t understand all the fuss about this book and all the significance. The same kind of puzzlement can be also applied to the book 1984, and several other dystopian focused works. When I was young, in primary school, we had to write about the significance quite a lot. Probably that’s why significance seems to me to be always too contrived to be believable. Anyway, I am not observing the content of “On the Road” as a symbol of youth culture, but rather I am viewing it as the distinct trait of the author Kerouac or people like him. If he’s not wandering, struggling, experiencing, he would just drink himself to death. And he did eventually. A settled life would depress him and a moneyed life would make a drunkard out of him. It’s a pre-disposition and probably it is related with gene. Some people are born to be nomad or hobo.
I wouldn’t say it is better written than those of my favorite books. Well, if it were really crafty in its presentation, probably it wouldn’t have been flowing with so much energy. When you are reading it, you feel like a natural force is pushing you, not with any affected intensity, but with some innate power you can’t explain. It is magic in a way.