Beat Generation Gets Going Over
I shall not attempt to define the "beat" generation except that here in San Francisco they seem to be making a good go of the thing, ever since Jack Kerouac got rich and set an example for his compatriots, who are loosely described as the "beatniks". I have never quite understood it but there seems to be some idea in the Bohemian world that filth of body and habit, overindulgence in booze and dope, wild music and unscannable poetry, sloppy sweatshirts and moral eccentricity form a blanket excuse for lack of talent . . . up till now I have not figured out what they're all mad at, or why they should accept a surly young delinquent such as the late James Dean as an idol. . . they live in a time of plenty and opportunity for all. To masquerade as a bum to touch the tourists for curiosity money, under the guise of misunderstood artistry is about as low a form of harlotry as can be practiced by male or female. Soap, sobriety, and toil were never in the history of talent, active deterrents to art. I must admit, in the light of history, that a certain amount of understanding of humanity can be derived from living with bums.