Howl and Other Poems (City Lights Pocket Poets, No. 4) (edition 2001)

I want to read this aloud, shout it from the rooftops; just as it should be. Ginsberg lays out a world in which nothing is alright, everything is falling apart, and we really haven't gotten much better since then. Howl is one of those works that is polarizing, you either love it or hate it. If you're unsure, read it again. I find it rare that anybody falls in the middle on Howl, because it is so visceral, it will either turn you into a beat, or turn your stomach. This is Ginsberg at the top of his game.

Also included in this book are America (which is one of my all-time favorites, especially as read aloud by Ginsberg) and A Supermarket in California (in which Ginsberg follows Walt Whitman through a modern American establishment). Ginsberg was a huge Whitman fan, imitating his style quite often.

Even if you don't end up liking any of the poems in this book, it's still worth reading. Ginsberg is one of those poets that helps you figure out things about yourself. ( )

Love it! ( )

I might have considered this 'raw and intense' once upon a time. But now I am increasingly starting to think that manufactured drama and phony rebellions and the whole era of the 1950s-60s are becoming as banal and useless as the materialistic society it hates. What is to be done. ( )

Maybe I'm just too old for this. I might have loved it in high school, possibly even college--or maybe not, because I've never really cared for beat poetry.

I can see the cultural Importance (yes, capital I) of Howl, but that doesn't mean it did much for me. It reads as a long list of all the could-have-beens he's met who have been destroyed by the cruel, cruel world. The second part is mostly a rant on how industrialization has destroyed, will destroy, everyone and everything. Part three--I'm with you in Rockland--seems to come to terms with the preceding sections, but still isn't exactly bright and cheery. It's almost like a really demented mash note.

The other pieces in this collection were a little better--I even almost liked Transcription of Organ Music. The non-Howl poems were slightly brighter, more hopeful, and lacked the dark, cooler-than-thou, subterranean coffeehouse vibe.

Hey, I said I don't like beat poetry. ( )

Dutifully constructed and perverse rants against society. Celebration of what was cult and strange in it's time. Wheels over introspective poets who compare a snowy winter's garden to the status of their soul - boring. The world needs more Ginsbergs. ( )