As usual, it's strange looking at these bks that I read over 3 decades ago. Maybe I read this when I was 19, maybe in 1972. At the time, I reckon I considered Ferlinghetti to be one of the major beat poets. Now, when I think of beat poets I just think of Ginsberg. Ferlinghetti seems more regional - like a San Francisco poet - sortof beat, sortof not beat. I don't know how he's historified. Even categorizing this in "plays" (wch is where I have it shelved in my library) seems a little over-pigeonholing - I mean these are ROUTINES, not necessarily PLAYS. A subtle difference, perhaps. Bks read when I was a teenager get lumped together in my vague memories w/ a certain feeling, the feeling of discovering & searching & finding political opinions I cd identify w/ & writing styles that seemed to reach from one person (the writer) to me (the reader) in some sort of direct way. I think of Hermann Hesse, eg - someone who wrote about hero's journeys taken by young men - Ferlinghetti seems like a figure encountered on my (anti-)hero's journey. If I read this when I was 19, I wd've been a hitch-hiker/drifter at the time - exploring the US under conditions w/ no money & not always friendly. I still have a fondness for Ferlinghetti that's probably somehow tied up w/ his connection to my late youth, to my groping in the dark for like-mindedness, for anti-war ethics, for.. something. Regardless, I actually lost interest in him fairly quickly.. - as if the bks were too simple, not radical enuf, maybe too 'spiritual' - a term that acquired pompous & simple-minded associations for me. As if by reading the few bks of his that I did, I'd "been there, done that" & had no more to learn from him. & that's probably entirely too simple-minded of ME. ( )

This was an interesting set of extremely short meta-plays that are focused largely on imagery while still taking into account the social landscape of the United States at the time. I thought that they were worthwhile, especially the ones in the middle, and that those reinvigorated the others that were lacking. Ferlinghetti was very experimental here, not following any of the typical conventions of drama, characterization, plot, or theme. Nevertheless, he captures something here of permanence and understanding.

3.25- worth reading. ( )