Jack Kerouac and Rhythm
For Jack Kerouac, to write spontaneous prose was to “satisfy yourself first, then reader cannot fail to receive telepathic shock and meaning-excitement by same laws operating in his own human mind” (Kerouac 57). This self-satisfaction is perhaps best heard and expressed in his 211th chorus from Mexico City Blues. In this chorus, Kerouac writes of what he calls the “wheel of the quivering meat conception,” or the nature of life and all living things on Earth as well as the suffering endured by all conscious beings (53). This chorus most closely resembles trochaic meter, though this is not followed rigidly, as Kerouac’s prose revolves around spontaneity and rule-breaking. In fact, it is important to note some of Kerouac’s points from his “List of Essentials” to writing modern prose:
“2. Submissive to everything, open, listening;
5. Something that you feel will find its own form;
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual;
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition” (59).
Readers can see these essentials taking shape in the 211th chorus — better known as “The Wheel.” Particularly, the lines, “Pigs, turtles, frogs, insects, nits, / Mice, lice, lizards, rats, roan / Racinghorses, poxy bucolic pigtics, / Horrible unnameable lice of vultures” carry with them a satisfying, musical rhythm despite their gross contents (53). When spoken aloud, these lines may flow from the mouth quite swiftly, mirroring the “poxy” nature of these creatures, with many of them being classified as pests or parasitic.
When Kerouac reads this chorus aloud, however, listeners will hear how he slows his speech as he moves from pigs and turtles to the lower classes of creatures, stressing the syllables of words like nits, lice, and rats. He lends some significance to these otherwise lowly creatures, which supports his later claim about the nature of life: “All the endless conception of living / beings / Gnashing everywhere in Consciousness / Throughout the ten directions of space / Occupying all the quarters in & out” (53). These lines are especially poignant in light of Kerouac’s conclusion: “Poor! I wish I was free / of that slaving meat wheel / and safe in heaven dead” (53). The rhetorically stressed “poor” gives emphasis to the speaker’s pain and exhaustion within this turning, quivering wheel of life. While the small and insignificant creatures on Earth fight and thrash and steal to stay alive, the conscious human speaker is aware of this straining to survive. It becomes overwhelming, forcing the speaker to seek solace in death. However, given Kerouac’s Buddhist influences, the wheel will keep turning anyway, and even after death the speaker may be transformed into yet another living, suffering creature. In fact, if readers listen to Kerouac read this chorus, they will notice how it ends in the same way it began–softly and slowly.
Even though Kerouac does not follow the so-called rules of prosody, the very act of spontaneous creation will reveal in the individual’s mind the underlying meaning and beauty of such creation. In Kerouac’s own words, “Craft is craft” (58).
Kerouac, Jack. Mexico City Blues. The Portable Beat Reader. edited by Ann Charters, Penguin Books, 1992, pp. 53–59.