On the Road is a book many years in the making for me. I had heard so much about it for so long and yet, like all of the other “classics” in its genre, I knew I would only read it when I was actually ready to read it. We are usually presented with this type of material way too early in our lives.
I faked my way through countless novels during high school, spending more time pretending to get through the books as opposed to sincerely trying to understand and appreciate them. In essence those literary icons come to us way before we are ready to ably process them.
I still cite To Kill a Mockingbird as my ultimate classic of all time simply because it managed to hold me for a longer time than any of the other books I was required to read. It somehow became a joyful educational experience and whether it still tops my list after all this time is something I’d almost rather not know. I prefer for it to remain the champ whether it deserves the status or not.
I don’t remember if On The Road was part of the curriculum when I was in school although I doubt simply because of the prevalent conservative nature of our school board which probably shunned a book so wildly championing irreverence and wanton drug use. Knowing now what I knew then the book would have simply served as inspiration for a student’s verboten culture and frankly, at the time, little about me was verboten. My, how times have changed.





