“I am writing this book because we're all going to die - In the loneliness of my own life, my father dead, my brother dead, my mother faraway, my sister and my wife far away, nothing here but my own tragic hands that once were guarded by a world, a sweet attention, that now are left to guide and disappear their own way into the common dark of all our deaths, sleeping in me raw bed, alone and stupid: with just this one pride and consolation: my broke heart in the general despair and opened up inwards to the Lord, I made a supplication in this dream”
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Quote Analysis
In this quote, Jack Kerouac reflects on his sense of profound loneliness and despair in the face of mortality. He acknowledges the loss of his family members and the isolation he feels as he navigates through life. The imagery of his "tragic hands" that were once protected by love and attention now being left to "disappear their own way into the common dark of all our deaths" conveys a feeling of helplessness and inevitability. Despite his broken heart and desolation, Kerouac finds some solace in his spiritual connection and his willingness to surrender to the unknown. This quote captures the complex emotions of grief, longing, and acceptance that are prevalent themes in Kerouac's work.
Modern Relevance of Jack Kerouac's Reflections on Mortality
Jack Kerouac's introspective and raw words about the inevitability of death resonate even in today's fast-paced and technology-driven world. His stark portrayal of loneliness and loss speaks to a universal human experience that transcends time. In a society that often avoids discussions about mortality, Kerouac's brutal honesty serves as a reminder to embrace our vulnerabilities and seek solace in something greater than ourselves.
Example of Usage:
"I am writing this book because we're all going to die - In the loneliness of my own life, my father dead, my brother dead, my mother faraway, my sister and my wife far away, nothing here but my own tragic hands that once were guarded by a world, a sweet attention, that now are left to guide and disappear their own way into the common dark of all our deaths, sleeping in me raw bed, alone and stupid: with just this one pride and consolation: my broke heart in the general despair and opened up inwards to the Lord, I made a supplication in this dream” - Jack Kerouac".
Reflection Questions:
This powerful quote from Jack Kerouac's book invites us to reflect on the inevitability of death and loneliness in our lives. It raises questions about the fragility of human existence and the ways we cope with loss and despair. As you think about these words, consider the following reflection questions:
- How do you interpret the idea of being "alone and stupid" in the face of death and loss?
- What do you think Kerouac means by his "broke heart in the general despair" and finding solace in supplication to a higher power?
- How does this passage resonate with your own experiences of grief and loneliness?
- In what ways do you find comfort or meaning in the midst of life's inevitable challenges and hardships?
- What might Kerouac's words teach us about the human condition and the search for connection and understanding in the face of mortality?
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“Sometimes during the night I'd look at my poor sleeping mother cruelly crucified there in the American night because of no-money, no-hope-of-money, no family, no nothing, just myself the stupid son of plans all of them compacted of eventual darkness. God how right Hemingway was when he said there was no remedy for life - and to think that negative little paper-shuffling prissies should write condescending obituaries about a man who told the truth, nay who drew breath in pain to tell a tale like that! ... No remedy but in my mind I raise a fist to High Heaven promising that I shall bull whip the first bastard who makes fun of human hopelessness anyway - I know it's ridiculous to pray to my father that hunk of dung in a grave yet I pray to him anyway, what else shall I do? sneer? shuffle paper on a desk and burp rationality? Ah thank God for all the Rationalists the worms and vermin got. Thank God for all the hate mongering political pamphleteers with no left or right to yell about in the Grave of Space. I say that we shall all be reborn with the Only One, and that's what makes me go on, and my mother too. She has her rosary in the bus, don't deny her that, that's her way of stating the fact. If there can't be love among men let there be love at least between men and God. Human courage is an opiate but opiates are human too. If God is an opiate so am I. Thefore eat me. Eat the night, the long desolate American between Sanford and Shlamford and Blamford and Crapford, eat the hematodes that hang parasitically from dreary southern trees, eat the blood in the ground, the dead Indians, the dead pioneers, the dead Fords and Pontiacs, the dead Mississippis, the dead arms of forlorn hopelessness washing underneath - Who are men, that they can insult men? Who are these people who wear pants and dresses and sneer? What am I talking about? I'm talking about human helplessness and unbelievable loneliness in the darkness of birth and death and asking 'What is there to laugh about in that?' 'How can you be clever in a meatgrinder?' 'Who makes fun of misery?' There's my mother a hunk of flesh that didn't ask to be born, sleeping restlessly, dreaming hopefully, beside her son who also didn't ask to be born, thinking desperately, praying hopelessly, in a bouncing earthly vehicle going from nowhere to nowhere, all in the night, worst of all for that matter all in noonday glare of bestial Gulf Coast roads - Where is the rock that will sustain us? Why are we here? What kind of crazy college would feature a seminar where people talk about hopelessness, forever?”