The Beat Generation: Discovering Jack Kerouac

It is only every so often you come across an author who challenges what you thought was possible. Richard Brautigan is one such author. I remember becoming fascinated with the life of Jack Kerouac. More so his lifestyle and influence on the literary world than anything.

Inspired by Rimbaud, Celine and later, musicians like Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker whose jazz beat, influenced Kerouac’s prose. This style later went on to be known as ‘spontaneous prose’. It took a long time before Kerouac would see his debut novel published. That is likely because it was such a dynamic shift from the accepted style, at the time. But then it went on to ignite the Beat Generation. And the coming age of the later Hippie movement.

When I read ‘On the Road’ and learned about how that book was crafted—in one hit. On a three-week-straight Benzedrine spree. And on a single scroll of facsimile paper. My interests jettisoned to another level. I soon found myself—obligingly—led down the rabbit hole of the Beat generation.

Beyond Beat Generation Literature: The Unique Voice of Richard Brautigan

Then, one day while scrolling through Facebook, I came across an unfamiliar name. Richard Brautigan. He was neither a Beat writer, nor a hippie writer. Instead, he was a writer who I had come to discover cosmically wedged somewhere in between each of the movements. Nonetheless—and therefore—standing for neither of them at all.

However, fans of the Beats have been more than endearing when adopting Richard as somewhat of a spiritual cousin. If not a true Beat.

Intrigued by his existence, I began exploring Richard Brautigan and his bibliography and soon found myself immersed in some of his most enigmatic work: ‘In Watermelon Sugar.’

Exploring “In Watermelon Sugar”: A Surrealist Novel

Because Richard was not a true Beat—nor Hippie—he projected neither of their sensibilities or conventions. It is a delineation which enabled him to craft something entirely new. And while names like Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg’s writing focused on the gritty reality of American life, Brautigan delved into the surreal, and almost apocalyptic landscapes of: In Watermelon Sugar.

It is here—in iDeath—the reader finds themselves in a dream-like state where everything in existence comes into creation via watermelon sugar. That is, the sky comes from watermelon sugar. The trees too, and even the water that flows downstream comes from watermelon sugar. It all melds together seamlessly and creates these lucid metaphors throughout the book.

For instance, the simplicity and self-sufficiency represented in watermelon being the primary resource in iDeath. Or the even the sustainability of the substance which suggests a world where the natural elements; namely watermelon, create the foundation of iDeath’s civilisation. This is all manifested through this simple and minimalist style of prose which all but tricks you in to believing the novella is lacking in any real depth. But that assertion—as I soon found—is profoundly wrong. The novella is anything but shallow.

Contrasting Worlds: iDeath and the Forgotten Works

Another thing I found quite profound is the contrast between iDeath and the neighbouring township of the Forgotten Works. It is also here that my transition from Kerouac’s road-worn USA to Brautigan’s surrealist Watermelon Sugar was not completely jarring—as I suspected it would be.

That is because both writers shared this same sense of community and humanistic themes through a simple existence. Although, they did approach said themes from quite different angles. And where Kerouac sought out authentic, and to-the-core experiences, Brautigan chose to explore parallel realities.

The Allure of iDeath

In drafting this article, I finally decided what made ‘In Watermelon Sugar’ my favourite work of Brautigan’s. And it was a delicate balance which struck me. Right between the sheer simplicity and the profundity of his: less is more approach.

But it is between the lines—where his prose is both transparent, yet still mysterious. It’s here the story continues to linger with me; even though I have not read the novella in some time.

“In Watermelon Sugar the deeds were done and done again as my little life is done in Watermelon Sugar.”

Brautigan’s recursive, dream-like quality permeates through the entire novella—right from the vague; almost riddle-like intro, to the quiet and somber ending—grabbing you as the nameless narrator guides us through a world where the sun shines a varied colour everyday.

Here, in a world where the mysterious “Forgotten Works” stands as a monument to civilisations long past—in direct contrast with the utopian vision of the communal living in iDeath—the story arrives at an unsettling, but appealing, and especially surrealistic stalemate.

Finding Meaning in Surrealism

And it is here where Brautigan seeks out authenticity, thus enabling readers to experience a true sense of community through the author’s eyes.

There can be a real sense of meaning in that. Whether it be through the shared rituals in iDeath, like the sharing of books and communal meals. Or through the contrasting, and almost self-destructive methods found in the Forgotten Works.

The novella’s portrayal of the the talking tigers whose shaman-like wisdom intersects with pure dichotomy. The fact that they eat the inhabitants of iDeath is also an intriguing one. Or the ‘Trout Hatcheries’ which are these luminous underwater spaces where people of iDeath are buried. All in glass coffins which glow beneath the water’s surface. It’s a true surrealist novel!

Both facets of the story paints an uneasy, haunting vibe that speaks to how cultures integrate loss into the fabric of our lives.

“The Trout Hatchery has a beautiful way of taking care of the dead. I guess that’s what it’s really all about. I mean the hatchery. That’s its real purpose.”

Literary Legacy: From the Beat Writers to Surrealism and Beyond

My journey from Kerouac, to In Watermelon Sugar is not a unique one. But in retrospect, it also appears inevitable that I made it here. Both Kerouac and Brautigan truly captured the spirit of their times but also transcended them. The Beats rebelled against the Post-war conformity, in America, while Brautigan re-imagined what lay beyond that rebellion.

So, what began as a chance encounter, blossomed into an endearing appreciation for Brautigan’s unique voice. And while Kerouac will always keep his space on my bookshelf, Brautigan now holds his own spot on the shelf.

Both writers continue to inspire my own writing endeavours, and I highly recommend reading their works. Who knows, they may also lead you down the path of Louis Ferdinand Celine and Arthur Rimbaud. They all serve as a great reminder that we need to build new worlds if we are to better understand the one we live in.