unlocking the novel
a guide to modernism and postmodernism

Reader's autobiography: Chris Shugrue

I read because certain books act as catalysts. They inspire me to run out blazing into the void and attempt things I hadn’t imagined or thought possible. These writings soar in on blessed breeze, land gently in my hands, and scream “read me now!”  They demand of me to look within, and this process invariably changes me.

An example of this serendipity—of the crazy way books find me and inspire me to explore—occurred when I was languishing in classes at the University of Delaware back in 1992. It was spring; I’d fled the military that winter and thought school was the answer. It wasn’t, and I became restless. My roommate had a friend staying with us who was fresh off spring Dead tour. The kid had a sparkle in his eye that was both unnerving and completely fascinating. He split one day and left behind battered copies of Kerouac’s On the Road and The Dharma Bums. I read them and realized I needed to go. I didn’t know where exactly, but both books inspired in me a need to see this land from sea to shining sea. In rapid succession, I read “Howl,” Way of the Peaceful Warrior, Ishmael, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The road called with lessons to learn, and I succumbed.  I embarked on an odyssey that continues to this day.

Walt Whitman called the United States the world’s greatest poem. I’ve read parts of that poem, and it is deep, it is wide, and it is amazing. I don’t know if that good brother left those adventures of Jack and Cowboy Neal on purpose or if he just forgot to pack them. Either way, those two books found me when I needed them most and for that I will be forever grateful.