One of the most unusual tours one can take in New York City would have to be in following the path of the Beatniks by frequenting their favorite bars and pubs. Dylan Thomas’ last watering hold, the White Horse, is on the list, as are Kettle of Fish and Cafe Reggio . Although some of the spots were frequented by Ginsberg and Burroughs, it’s the ghost of Kerouac who lurks behind it all, and that might make just about anyone a little uneasy.
There’s no formal tour, of course, because herding people who are interested in both the Beat Generation and in bars would be as easy as herding cats, but it’s always an option. Literary tours are usually pretty fun to try, and this one holds a lot of promise, although it holds equal parts despair. That goes with the movement.
John Clellon Holmes wrote more eloquently than anyone, perhaps, about this movement. His article for the New York Times Magazine in 1952 is still some of the very best writing about the Beats. Without the benefit of any hindsight whatsoever, he wrote in the middle of the busiest part of the storm, and manages to capture all the essentials, including a discussion of how that generation was so reluctant to adopt any labels, or to make any kinds of prescriptions for would-be Beats. It was a life, not an art form, and it wasn’t meant for mass consumption.
Lots of the ghosts are still around, the people having passed from one side of the ground to the other, and there’s something reassuring about their iconicity. It’s almost as if anyone with a restless heart has the possibility of becoming a revered ancestor. A stay in a hotel in the city can bring some of the romantic energy out of every visitor, but it’s a reciprocal proposition. The spirits in the walls of these revered taverns do seem to like to be remembered, and the living inhabitants like a good conversation.