But I am getting rather off the track of this book review. In our present, enlightened age, we have realized that, when anything can be published, nothing can be shocking or subversive so oversaturation accomplishes in a stroke what censorship failed to accomplish in generations. As in so many other cases of censorship, the attempt to suppress the work backfired, helping to turn poem and poet into icons. Like so many obscene books of bygone ages, “Howl” seems remarkably tame nowadays, and it is hard to believe any institution would go through the bother of banning and confiscating it. Now, thanks to the timely intervention of my mom, I am bona fide hip. I had heard recordings of Ginsberg reciting “Howl” many times, but I had never actually owned a copy of this poem.
I visited the book store without knowing anything of its history, left with a copy of Galileo’s Sidereus Nuncius, and then shamefacedly returned to pick up this book when my mother informed me, five minutes later, that it is famous for the “Howl” trial. On my recent trip to San Francisco I was obliged to buy a copy of this book from the City Lights bookstore.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks? Running the (Full) M… on The Madrid Half-MarathonĢ023: New Year… on From Gold to Glory: A Slice of…Ģ023: New Year… on Summertime in Andalucía: Three…Ģ023: New Year… on Summertime in Andalucía: …Ģ023: New Year… on Summertime in Andalucía: Jerez…
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