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Rarely has it been so difficult, even painful, to come to the end of a text of 400 pages! So let me explain: the version of On The Road by Jack Kerouac is that of the original roll (1951). This role, which did a lot for the legend of Kerouac, was written in just three weeks!
We omit to specify that Kerouac had been working on this novel for two or even three years and that it was in a mad frenzy (doped with coffee!) He wrote this roll in one go after gluing each sheet individually. Of paper to make a single strip, thus assimilating it to the mythical route of Route 66, the one that crosses the USA from east to west; continuous reading, without the shadow of a paragraph, is perhaps a parallel with the monotony of this route 66 but that its text is long, long.
I would only add that this clean text, rendered in a standard format, was published about five years later; the political and economic context of the USA was different then. And the crazy American youth who discovered it then found there may have been different aspirations—those of Kerouac when he was writing this novel.
Kerouac lives alone in New York with his mother after his father died in the story. Disembarks Neal Cassidy, a young thug but irresistible in his appetite to live, I would even say consume his life from all ends. Always with a woman, two or even three, he randomly consumes alcohol, marijuana, and benzedrine sex and moves without stopping !! He will be the black angel of Kerouac, weaving with him during their crazy hikes, with bonds so strong that we can make them believe they are indissoluble.
So in the car, go for a ride, walk, sniff, drink, fuck, in the order you want, separately or simultaneously!
Here we are in Paris with these knocking-off things, little or no adventures, but the road, pubs, drugs, girls, and the text becomes MAGICAL music, jazz, and bebop. But, just for these few pages, the detour is worth it.
So, it was tedious reading. I did not go into Kerouac's speech old-fashioned, but I assume it. Do we have to come to these great states of disrepair to appreciate life? It isn't my conception, the question of age and period. Indeed, I ask myself to say that the text would have aged a little.