Imagine it is the year 1959.
You are seated at a table with a bottle of cheap red wine, a cigarette glows red in the ashtray. The place; a smoky, dimly lit, seedy, little bar in Greenwich Village, New York.
A slight, bearded fellow with black sockets for eyes, listens to the rhythmic pounding of bongo drums.
A pallid, sullen, pouting girl in black stockings buries her head in a copy of HOWL.
A kid with a goatee, wearing tatty clothes, sandals and a beret smokes a bit of 'tea', and takes a long, heavy, luxurious draw of smoke.
A wide-eyed, red-eyed, streetwise, young, but old, Times square hustler surveys the scene.
A table of unwashed, uncouth, angry young men heatedly discuss the recent publication of THE NAKED LUNCH.
A girl with black-rimmed eyes, long, messy hair, wearing a large, shapeless sweater broods silently in a corner while her boy-friend, a whiskery, wiry, winsome young man nervously fingers a syrette of morphine.
A wild haired, bespectacled poet stammers out a poem to an entranced group of fresh faced poet-girls and poet-boys.
In 1959, in this smoke-clouded Greenwich Village bar, you would immediately know, if you were at all hip to the scene, that the ragged assortment of malcontents, delinquents, 'tea-heads', Bohemians, hipsters and hustlers before you, could all rather conveniently fit into the mould, effectively created and labeled by the media of the times as 'BEATS', or more sneeringly as 'BEATNIKS'.
Herbert Caen, a San Francisco journalist, first coined the term when he cried out, "I certainly don't intend to support my son if he wants to be a beatnik," meaning of course, one of those hairy, sandal wearing, coffee-house lounging, poetry spouting Bohemians. The media immediately seized upon the term as a rather "handy caricature for everyone associated with beatness."
The real meaning of "beatness" lost all significance and was basically used to describe a physical type. Middle-class, conventional, smugly content Americans reading their Time and Life magazines could sit back, happy in their prosperity, and safely chuckle over the antics of the beatniks. Turtle necks, bongos and berets--what fun. Americans had become all to familiar with the beatnik but less so with the philosophy behind all of the trappings.
"I am the originator of the term, and around it the term and the generation have taken shape" wrote Jack Kerouac in a 1959 article called The Origins of the Beat Generation. The word "beat" had been used by jazz musicians, hustlers and hipsters in the 1940s as a street slang term meaning dead beat, down and out, exhausted, poor. In 1944 a Times Square street hustler and hipster named Herbert Huncke, a friend of William Burroughs walked up to Jack Kerouac and said "Man, I'm beat." "I knew right away what he meant somehow," wrote Kerouac, "I was a bum, a brakeman, a seaman, a panhandler…anything and everything, and went on writing because my hero was Goethe." In 1955 he published an excerpt from a novel he was writing called Beat Generation and the term started appearing in various publications. In 1956 Allen Ginsbergs' Howl and Other Poems virtually exploded on to the American literary scene and seemed to scream out "beat." But in 1957 when Kerouacs' Beat Generation transmogrified into On The Road, the term "beat" suddenly became part of the American vernacular. According to Kerouac "youth had emerged cool and beat, had picked up the gestures and the style; soon it was everywhere."
The original group of Beat writers formed in New York in the mid 1940s. William S. Burroughs scion of a cultivated and established St. Louis family (his grandfather had invented the adding machine) first introduced the young Columbia university student Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac to his friend, the Times Square hustler Herbert Huncke who in turn introduced them to the druggy, jazzy New York underworld. He taught them what "beat" was all about and was instrumental in securing drugs for all of them. Burroughs became involved with a "community of outlaws" and became addicted to the drug morphine. At this point Harvard graduate Burroughs did not consider himself to be a writer. Kerouac saw him as "an eccentric scholar, traveler, seeker of the facts of life." Burroughs was on a personal quest to find an alternative style of life-alternative experiences and alternative values. He was determined to pursue experience to the fullest and sought to escape the constraints of his conservative, up-right, conventional, upper middle-class upbringing. He sought to "expand consciousness" through his travels, through sexual experimentation, through the use of narcotics, and through art. "Artists, to my mind," he wrote, "are the real architects of change."
Allen Ginsberg was a young student at Columbia University when he met the much older Burroughs(thirteen years his senior). "He educated me more than Columbia, really," claimed Ginsberg. At Columbia, Ginsberg had become dissatisfied with his economics studies, and felt himself to be an outsider as a Jewish, homosexual. He was expelled for writing on a dirty window "Butler has no balls" (referring to the president of the university). Ginsberg was restless and intent on breaking the rules and in Burroughs he had found the perfect tutor. Burroughs unconventional life-style appealed to Ginsberg who was fascinated by his introduction into the "subterranean" Times Square underworld. In 1948 Ginsberg had a series of "mystic visions" of the poet William Blake and henceforth dedicated himself to becoming a poet. When he published Howl and Other Poems in 1956, considered by poet and critic Kenneth Rexroth to be "the most remarkable single poem published by a young man since the second war," he dedicated it to Jack Kerouac, "new Buddha of American prose," William Seward Burroughs, and Neal Cassady.
When Jack Kerouac met William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg some time in 1944, he had already dropped out of Columbia to enlist in the navy, been discharged, and subsequently served as a merchant seaman. His "restless exuberance" had led him back to New York where he was encouraged to write by Ginsberg and Burroughs. Kerouac was struck by the open rebelliousness, the licentiousness, the madness of his new friends.
The narrator of On the Road, Sal Paradise (Kerouac himself) proclaims at one point that "the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved... the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing." It was with this mad group of beats that Kerouac was to find comradeship, inspiration and enlightenment and at the same time he acknowledged that they were "the most evil and intelligent buncha bastards and shits in America."
During the 1950s the publication of Jack Kerouacs' On the Road, Allen Ginsbergs' Howl and Other Poems, and William S. Burroughs' The Naked Lunch established the authors as a rebellious literary and cultural movement bent on shaking the foundations of American society. America in the fifties was enjoying an unprecedented period of economic prosperity while "silently enduring" the destructive forces of McCarthyism, racial intolerance, political suppression, and repressive conservatism. White, middle-class America with it's passionate addiction to the dollar had become smug, corrupt, hypocritical and suspicious of the individual. The "beats" were having none of it, and as Paul O'Niel stated in a LIFE article in 1959, the beats felt that "the only way a man can call his soul his own is by becoming an outcast." Allen Ginsberg wrote of his own "awakening" in the Columbia university bookstore one day when he suddenly became aware that everyone around him appeared to be hiding some sort of "unconscious torment from one another: they all looked like horrible grotesque masks, grotesque because hiding the knowledge from one another."
Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Burroughs, were all uniquely different artists yet they shared many of the same themes and techniques. They were greatly influenced by Jazz music and the jazzy hipster New York underworld. The Jazz philosophy of "there are no wrong notes" greatly appealed to them. Jazz seemed to disregard all the rules. It was raw and emotional. The beats sought to write the way Jazz sounded with its syncopated rhythms and its screaming dissonance. Kerouac's typewriter became his musical instrument. The music of Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker resounded in his works. And Ginsberg proclaimed in his book, Howl, "Holy the groaning saxophone! Holy the bop apocalypse! Holy the Jazz bands marijuana hipsters peace and junk and drums!"
The Beats shared in their belief that modern society was lacking in spiritual values. They were opposed to the "rat race" which they felt deadened the soul, wasted time and brutalized feeling. All three artists felt the dissaffection of the outsider. They reviled the "square" who seemed to be "stuck in a rut" in his endless pursuit of the dollar. To be beat was to be appalled by the ugliness, the emptiness, the soulessness of contemporary society. To be beat was to refuse the American ideal. To reject suburban morals and values. To be beat was to come to terms with the reality of life as it was, to refuse the white-wash. The beats sought to penetrate beyond the glossy surface of things. They found conventional American society wanting in spiritual values and so they sought an alternative. They sought to expand consciousness through their travels, sexual experimentation, drugs, and delving into Zen Buddhism. Thomas F. Merrill in his study of Allen Ginsberg wrote that the beats were in effect "conscientous objectors." Try it, you might like it.