Howl, Allen Ginsberg
“Howl” Allen Ginsberg
The following entry represents criticism of Ginsberg's poem “Howl” through 2000. See also Allen Ginsberg Literary Criticism (Introduction), and Volumes 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 13, 109.
Allen Ginsberg was one of the most popular and celebrated American poets of the twentieth century. His first published work, Howl and Other Poems, became the focal point of a landmark obscenity trial in 1957 that drew attention to San Francisco as a center of cultural revolution in the literary arts. The first public reading of the poem took place in October 1955 at the Six Gallery in San Francisco. This famous performance established Ginsberg as a prominent voice in the antiestablishment Beat movement of the 1950s.
Ginsberg was born in Newark, New Jersey, in 1926. His mother, Naomi, suffered from various mental illnesses and was periodically institutionalized, sometimes for several years at a time. Ginsberg's father, Louis, was a teacher and lyric poet. He tried to compensate for an unstable family life with an atmosphere of strict discipline. Ginsberg endured an emotionally troubled adolescence that was complicated by the confusion and isolation he felt as he became increasingly aware of his homosexuality. Ginsberg was introduced to poetry by his father and was influenced by literary mentors including William Carlos Williams, who lived nearby in Paterson, New Jersey, where Ginsberg attended high school. Ginsberg's literary influences also included Lionel Trilling and Mark Van Doren, with whom he studied at Columbia University, and his New York literary peers Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs, and Neal Cassady. Along with Kenneth Rexroth and Robert Duncan, Kerouac, Burroughs, Cassady, and Ginsberg would later become the core of the Beat movement. Ginsberg remained a champion and iconic figure of the counterculture throughout the 1960s and 1970s, and became active in antinuclear protest later years. He died in 1997.
“Howl” was first introduced during a poetry reading on October 13, 1955, at Six Gallery in San Francisco. West Coast poets in attendance included Beat generation figures Michael McClure, Gary Snyder, and Philip Whalen. Ginsberg was a visitor from the East Coast, and his impassioned and uninhibited reading of “Howl,” a long poem that broke with convention, became the highlight of the event. During the coming year Ginsberg continued to revise the poem, and it was published in Howl and Other Poems in October 1956 by City Lights Books, a San Francisco bookstore and publishing house owned by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Law enforcement authorities soon seized and banned all unsold copies of the book and charged Ferlinghetti with the distribution of obscene material. The subsequent trial drew national attention to the cultural revolution that was taking place on the west coast in the 1950s. Judge Clayton W. Horn acquitted Ferlinghetti in 1957, ruling that the poem was not obscene. In the aftermath, Ferlinghetti wrote, “It is not the poet but what he observes which is revealed as obscene.”
“Howl” is part vision, part angry lament, a raw denunciation of American society's shortcomings, as seen through the eyes of Ginsberg. Opening with a run-on sentence that expresses the poet's despair for himself and his generation, the poem is divided into three sections and contains a “Footnote” that critics generally consider to be a functional “Part IV” of the work, although it wasn't so-named by the poet. Part I chronicles the desperation felt during the post-World War II era by those who felt alienated by the mechanization and intellectual conformity that they felt American society demanded. Although much of Part I is autobiographical, the personal nature of the work does not minimize the poem's effectiveness. Rather, it serves to communicate a universal longing for escape from confinement and oppression. Notable structural characteristics include repetitive, incantatory phrases and run-on sentences.
Part II of “Howl,” written while Ginsberg was under the influence of the drug peyote, seeks to name the roots of human misery and discontent. In the character of Moloch, a Philistine god to whom children are sacrificed by the power-hungry, Ginsberg personifies the causes of social ills, as he sees them: government bureaucracy, conformity, materialism, technology. Moloch, a malevolent “judger of men,” destroys the best of human nature, inciting self-doubt and fear in the hearts and souls of those who would reject his ways.
In Part III of “Howl,” Ginsberg seeks to balance the destruction and despair of the first two parts in what is acknowledged to be a personal tribute to the poet's friend Carl Solomon, whom Ginsberg had met during several months of treatment at a psychiatric institution. While maintaining his stance of protest against the aspects of American society that he holds responsible for crippling the spirit of a generation, Ginsberg nonetheless demonstrates in this section an underlying desire for reconciliation with the country of his birth and citizenship: “we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and won't let us sleep.” The mood of Part III is one of grudging acknowledgment that certain painful aspects of life will not be easily rectified or eliminated but that the communal and individual fight is worthwhile and valiant.
The “Footnote to ‘Howl’” chronicles a vision of unification for both society and the individual torn by conflicting cultural forces. Although it was suggested by early critics that the “Footnote” was added by Ginsberg simply to soften public criticism toward the first sections of the poem, later critical opinion favors the position that the last section is an integral, inseparable part of the entire work. In the four parts of “Howl,” Ginsberg progresses from angry protest and desperate lamentation to acceptance of certain realities, balanced with a visionary insistence that the future can hold the promise of wholeness and integrity.
Ginsberg's “Howl” became one of the most widely read poems of the second half of the twentieth century. In part this was due to Ginsberg's role as a 1950s champion of causes later embraced by the 1960s counterculture: freedom from sexual repression and traditional behavior; freedom to engage in recreational drug use; rejection of authority and censorship; rejection of the military-industrial complex. The poem assumed the status of gospel to those who found in it a voice that expressed their youthful angst and disillusionment.
Although they generally underestimated its eventual influence and often disliked its form, subject matter, and graphic language, early reviewers predicted that “Howl” would achieve a certain landmark status as a touchstone of the Beat movement's poetic expression. Critic John Hollander, while characterizing Howl and Other Poems in 1957 as a “dreadful little volume” and a “very tiresome book,” acknowledged that Ginsberg's “hopped-up and improvised tone” would be likely to enjoy a degree of celebrity. The same year, M. L. Rosenthal wrote of Ginsberg's “Howl”: “He has brought a terrible psychological reality to the surface with enough originality to blast American verse a hair's-breadth forward in the process … very simply, this is poetry of genuine suffering.”
Critical opinion of the work has evolved in the decades since it challenged the sensibilities of mainstream literary critics. In 1957, Michael Rumaker characterized “Howl” as being the victim of “hysterical language” and “nonexact vocabulary.” In 1983, Rumaker reconsidered his initial assessment and acknowledged that he had written “largely out of resistance to this new, shrill and unknown voice howling outloud what I, and many others of the time, only mentioned in oblique and cynical whispers.” Perhaps the most lucid early commentary on the poem, which also served as a testament to its right to be considered a valid contribution to contemporary American literature, came not from a literary critic but from Judge Clayton Horn, who made the determination that “Howl” should not be categorized as obscene. Horn wrote, “‘Howl’ presents a picture of a nightmare world; the second part is an indictment of those elements in modern society destructive of the best qualities of human nature. … The third part presents a picture of an individual who is a specific representation of what the author conceives as a general condition. … ‘Footnote to “Howl”’ seems to be a declaration that everything in the world is holy, including parts of the body by name. It ends in a plea for holy living. …”
Howl and Other Poems 1956; also published as Howl: Original Draft Facsimile, Transcript & Variant Versions [revised edition] 1986
Siesta in Xbalba and Return to the States 1956
Empty Mirror: Early Poems 1961
Kaddish and Other Poems, 1958-1960 1961
The Change 1963
Reality Sandwiches: 1953-1960 1963
Kral Majales 1965
Wichita Vortex Sutra 1966
T.V. Baby Poems 1967
Airplane Dreams: Compositions from Journals 1968
Ankor Wat [with Alexander Lawrence] 1968
The Heat Is a Clock 1968
Message II 1968
Planet News 1968
Scrap Leaves, Tasty Scribbles 1968
Wales—A Visitation, July 29, 1967 1968
The Moments Return: A Poem 1970
For the Soul of the Planet Is Wakening … 1970
Ginsberg's Improvised Poetics 1971
Bixby Canyon Ocean Path Word Breeze 1972
Iron Horse 1972
New Year Blues 1972
Open Head 1972
The Fall of America: Poems of These States, 1965-1971 1972
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SOURCE: Rosenthal, M. L. “Poet of the New Violence.” The Nation 184, no. 8 (23 February 1957): 162.
[In the following review, Rosenthal finds some fault with Ginsberg's Howl and Other Poems but considers his poetry original.]
The two most striking pieces in Allen Ginsberg's pamphlet Howl and Other Poems—the long title-piece itself and “America”—are sustained shrieks of frank defiance. The themes are struck off clearly in the opening lines of each:
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked …
America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
Isolated quotation, however, will not convey the real tone of these poems, though their drift is not hard to define. We have had smoking attacks on the civilization before, ironic or murderous or suicidal. We have not had this particular variety of anguished anathema-hurling in which the poet's revulsion is expressed with the single-minded frenzy of a raving madwoman.
Ginsberg hurls, not only curses, but everything—his own paranoid memories of a confused, squalid, humiliating existence in the “underground” of American life and culture, mock political and sexual “confessions” (together with the childishly aggressive vocabulary of obscenity which in this country is being increasingly...
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SOURCE: Hollander, John. “Poetry Chronicle.” Partisan Review 24, no. 2 (spring 1957): 296-8.
[In the following excerpt, Hollander describes Howl and Other Poems as both “tiresome” and exemplifying real talent.]
It is only fair to Allen Ginsberg, however, to remark on the utter lack of decorum of any kind in his dreadful little volume [Howl]. I believe that the title of his long poem, “Howl,” is meant to be a noun, but I can't help taking it as an imperative. The poem itself is a confession of the poet's faith, done into some 112 paragraph-like lines, in the ravings of a lunatic friend (to whom it is dedicated), and in the irregularities in the lives of those of his friends who populate his rather disturbed pantheon. Here is the poem's beginning:
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz, who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated, who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes...
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SOURCE: “Allen Ginsberg's ‘Howl.’” In On the Poetry of Allen Ginsberg, edited by Lewis Hyde, pp. 36-40. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1984.
[In the following essay, part of which was first published in 1957, Rumaker discusses “Howl.” This original material is accompanied by a 1983 updated comment by the critic.]
The language of “Howl” is curiously “materialistic.” I mean it is quantitative (a quantity of verbiage) without reference to quality. I speak later of fever in this poem and I think it's that: the feelings are not precise (are an onrush of emotional bulk) and therefore the words, the language, cannot be precise. The abstractions of adjective and noun don't help to name the thing—to lock in the lines, precisely, what the poet means.
It's a “bad” poem—it's not said right. It should be said so that the impact of the anger slams in every line—a fury to lift the reader from his chair, force him to get up and walk about to read the thing. The disappointment is that Mr. Ginsberg fails in this when he seems to have the thing so close in hand, and instead, corrupts it with sentimentality, bathos, Buddha and hollow talk of eternity. But there are qualities of the writer that come through in spite of this. One is certainly made cognizant that he needs, desperately, and that there is tremendous love and desire in him, a care and...
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SOURCE: Ferlinghetti, Lawrence. “Horn on ‘Howl.’” Evergreen Review 1, no. 4 (winter 1957): 145-58.
[In the following essay, Ferlinghetti gives an account of the charges that were levied against him for publishing and selling obscene writings and his subsequent San Francisco trial, after he published the first U.S. edition of Ginsberg's Howl and Other Poems.]
Fahrenheit 451, the temperature at which books burn, has finally been determined not to be the prevailing temperature at San Francisco, though the police still would be all too happy to make it hot for you. On October 3 last, Judge Clayton Horn of Municipal Court brought in a 39-page opinion finding Shigeyoshi Murao and myself not guilty of publishing or selling obscene writings, to wit Allen Ginsberg's Howl and Other Poems and issue 11 & 12 of The Miscellaneous Man.
Thus ended one of the most irresponsible and callous police actions to be perpetrated west of the Rockies, not counting the treatment accorded Indians and Japanese.
When William Carlos Williams, in his Introduction to Howl, said that Ginsberg had come up with “an arresting poem” he hardly knew what he was saying. The first edition of Howl, Number Four in the Pocket Poets Series, was printed in England by Villiers, passed thru Customs without incident, and was published at the City Lights bookstore here in the...
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SOURCE: Rexroth, Kenneth. “San Francisco Letter.” In On the Poetry of Allen Ginsberg, edited by Lewis Hyde, pp. 32-33. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1984.
[In the following essay, which was first published in 1957, Rexroth, a popular poet often called “Godfather of the Beats,” lauds Allen Ginsberg's “Howl” as “more than the most sensational book of poetry of 1957.”]
Allen Ginsberg's Howl is much more than the most sensational book of poetry of 1957. Nothing goes to show how square the squares are so much as the favorable reviews they've given it. “Sustained shrieks of frantic defiance,” “single-minded frenzy of a raving madwoman,” “paranoid memories,” “childish obscenity”—they think it's all so negative. Also—which is much more important—they think there is something unusual about it. Listen you—do you really think your kids act like the bobby soxers in those wholesome Coca-Cola ads? Don't you know that across the table from you at dinner sits somebody who looks on you as an enemy who is planning to kill him in the immediate future in an extremely disagreeable way? Don't you know that if you were to say to your English class, “It is raining,” they would take it for granted you were a liar? Don't you know that they never tell you nothing? That they can't? That faced with the system of values which coats you like the...
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SOURCE: Bowering, George. “How I Hear ‘Howl.’” In On the Poetry of Allen Ginsberg, edited by Lewis Hyde, pp. 370-78. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1984.
[In the following essay, which was first published in 1969, Bowering discusses the experience of listening to a recording of Ginsberg's spoken version of “Howl.”]
(Poetry is a vocal art. In the following impression of Allen Ginsberg's poem, I will refer not so much to the printed versions as to his spoken version on the Fantasy LP 7005, Howl and Other Poems.)
… The central image of “Howl” is the “robot skullface of Moloch,” the mechanical monolith that eats the children of America. The original Moloch was just as fearful, tho not so widely powerful. This was the old Canaanite god that appealed to the wives of the original Solomon, & earlier to the followers of Moses. He was figured as a giant stone statue with arms held out & giant flames burning all round him. It was the practice of religious women to worship Moloch by casting their children into the arms of the statue & watching them burn alive, held by that mockery of affection & care. So Ginsberg's image of a present day monster, as much more terrible as the Empire State Building is taller than an ancient Hebrew statue.
(Here the reader should hear Part II of “Howl”)
(Then listen to the...
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SOURCE: Breslin, James. “Allen Ginsberg: The Origins of ‘Howl’ and ‘Kaddish.’” The Iowa Review 8, no. 2 (spring 1977): 82-108.
[In the following essay, Breslin explores Ginsberg's life experiences as they are reflected in the subject matter and tone of “Howl” and “Kaddish,” two of Ginsberg's best known poems.]
Most literary people have probably first become aware of Allen Ginsberg through the media, in his self-elected and controversial role as public figure and prophet of a new age. Ginsberg's public personality has changed over the years—from the defiant and histrionic angry young man of the fifties to the bearded and benign patriarch and political activist of the sixties and seventies—but the personality has remained one that most literary people find hard to take seriously. Compare Ginsberg's reception with that of Norman Mailer, another writer who is also a public figure and one who, like Ginsberg, wants to replace rational with magical thinking as the mode of public discourse. Mailer's public appearances and his confessional writings characteristically begin by humiliating but end by promoting himself, and they have been enormously successful: Mailer's talents have been widely exaggerated, especially by academic critics, who already have produced several studies of his work. Mailer has succeeded because his theorizing on all matters from the digestive to the political...
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SOURCE: Henry, William A., III. “In New York: ‘Howl’ Becomes a Hoot.” In On the Poetry of Allen Ginsberg, edited by Lewis Hyde, pp. 367-69. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1984.
[In the following essay, which first appeared in 1981, Henry describes an early 1980s public reading of “Howl” by poet Allen Ginsberg.]
Night, the hour of poets, on a windy street in the part of New York City where academe meets Harlem. Outside a nondescript building, a man calls to an acquaintance. The second replies, “Allen Ginsberg reading ‘Howl’? It's tempting, but …” He walks on.
Inside McMillin Theater at Columbia University, an audience of about 900 assembles. Most appear to be younger than the poem they are to hear. A few are bearded hippies loyal to the Movement. A few are enervated, gentle, Buddhistic Wasps. A handful are black. All around are flannel shirts, funny hats, sleeping children, the emblems of safe bourgeois funk. Not many in the crowd notice, let alone cheer, the arrival of one honored guest, Radical and Felon Abbie Hoffman.
Most wait quietly, unsure of what to expect. Ginsberg is reading his epic poem of outrage and lament to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of its publication. Media announcements have recalled the public theatrics of the poet, an ostentatious nonconformist, a self-described “Hebraic Melvillean bardic breath.” He...
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SOURCE: Gaydos, Jeff. “The ‘New’ Ginsberg: Still Full of Life.” Detroit News (18 January 1987): 9B.
[In the following essay, Gaydos reviews the anniversary edition of “Howl” and comments on the simultaneous release of Ginsberg's collection, White Shroud, Poems 1980-1985.]
The “beat generation” has been caricatured and romanticized as much or more than most quirky ripples in the flow of human behavior. And as with most “movements” that become diluted as they get washed through the American mainstream, it's tough to keep a perspective on its value to American life.
You find a set of bongo drums in the attic, think of black turtlenecks, goatees and poetry set to jazz, and you have it. That was the beat generation. White kids discovering marijuana. Cheap wine and bebop.
But it's a fact that the beats jolted something. They did it with their music, with their literature, and with their energy.
Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady died folk heroes. They made their statements, suffered some, and left us with most of the lore about them intact.
And Allen Ginsberg lives.
It's hard to believe that it was 30 years ago when he wrote his powerful poem, Howl, and that in that era it prompted outrage for its “pornographic” content.
It's also hard to say what this or any individual work...
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SOURCE: Leddy, Michael. “Verse.” World Literature Today 61, no. 4 (autumn 1987): 630-31.
[In the following essay, Leddy reviews a thirtieth-anniversary facsimile edition of “Howl.”]
“It is a rare occasion when a living author illuminates the creative process behind his work,” says the dust jacket of the thirtieth-anniversary annotated facsimile edition of Howl. For once a dust jacket is guilty of understatement: the generosity with which Ginsberg illuminates his text is unprecedented. He and editor Barry Miles have assembled all significant drafts of the poem, reproduced with copious new annotations by Ginsberg concerning composition and revision, influences, literary allusions, and topical references. In addition, there are numerous photographs, several essays by Carl Solomon (to whom Howl is dedicated), a selection of letters (by Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, Kerouac, Williams, and others), accounts of the 1955 first reading and the 1957 obscenity trial, and Ginsberg's selection of influential poems by Smart, Shelley, Apollinaire, Crane, and other precursors. (Whitman, in Ginsberg's words “a mountain too vast to be seen,” is missing.)
Despite earlier suggestions of spontaneous composition—“the whole first section typed out madly in one afternoon,” or “wrote Howl [part] II nearly intact” (Ginsberg, 1959)—the drafts make it clear that...
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SOURCE: Merrill, Thomas F. “Howl and Other Poems.” In Allen Ginsberg, revised edition, pp. 50-69. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1988.
[In the following essay, Merrill offers an examination of Ginsberg's “Howl” and other works.]
HISTORY OF HOWL
Despite the fact that it has been fashionable to say that Howl exploded on the American literary scene like a bombshell, that San Francisco finally “turned Ginsberg on,” and that this poem heralded in the Beat Generation, it is difficult to find in this admittedly extraordinary poem much that has not been anticipated in inchoate and sometimes even mature form in Empty Mirror. Howl is a crystallization of incipient attitudes and techniques that Ginsberg had held for years, but it is hardly the beginning of a new poetic direction or even a sudden eruption of outrage. It cannot even be said that Howl is uniquely modern in form or intention. Most would have to agree with Kenneth Rexroth that this type of poetry is “in one of the oldest traditions, that of Hosea or the other angry Minor prophets of the Bible.”1Howl, therefore, is not a genesis; it is an amplification.
Part of the reason for considering Howl an amplification has nothing to do with literature at all. The furor surrounding its initial publication was like a shot heard round the world....
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SOURCE: Ostriker, Alicia. “‘Howl’ Revisited: The Poet as Jew.” American Poetry Review 26, no. 4 (July-August 1997): 28-31.
[In the following essay, Ostriker considers the influence of cultural and religious Judaism on Allen Ginsberg and his works.]
I have reverenced Allen Ginsberg—man and poet—for three decades, and see no reason to stop now. The first time I met Allen I was amazed, as this essay suggests, by his voice: the power and sweetness and humor of it. His breath, I thought, was the breath of the spirit. The last time was the same, but more so. We were at the Dodge Poetry Festival in Waterloo, N.J., in the soft weather of early fall, 1996. At dinner I told him I had written an essay about him as a Jew, that he would probably disapprove of, and he shrugged this off and talked about his new apartment. He was looking ailing and frail. He was ailing and frail, until he went on stage, seated with his harmonium, and then—what can one say except that Allen's voice was channeling huge quantities of spiritual energy, joy, pain, love, hope, laughter, from the Great Beyond, or wherever that stuff comes from, and spraying it like a cosmic fire hydrant into the big tent and out into the warm night. For forty-five minutes he hosed us up and down, and we all rode the billows of delight. I imagine he is having a fine time now, in the holy company of Whitman, Blake, Williams, and the Prophet...
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SOURCE: Trigilio, Tony. “‘Sanity a Trick of Agreement’: Madness and Doubt in Ginsberg's Prophetic Poetry.” In “Strange Prophecies Anew”: Rereading Apocalypse in Blake, H. D., and Ginsberg, pp.125-27. Teaneck, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2000.
[In the following essay Trigilio explores the relationship between the prophetic language in the poems “Howl” and “Kaddish” and experiences of psychiatric institutionalization in the poet's personal and family history.]
1. INTRODUCTION: “WE SAY ANYTHING WE WANT TO SAY”
In 1943, the young Allen Ginsberg traveled by ferry from his home in Paterson, New Jersey, to Columbia University for his freshman entrance examination. On the way, he “[p]rayed on ferry to help mankind if admitted—vowed … inspired by Sacco Vanzetti, Norman Thomas, Debs, Altgeld, Sandburg, Poe” (Kaddish, 214). Ginsberg narrates this excursion in Kaddish, and the prayer/vow recalled and recorded there affirms his childhood desire to become an “honest revolutionary labor lawyer” (214). As Michael Schumacher notes, Ginsberg concluded by his late teens that “if he was going to make an impact on his world, it would be as a lawyer, not a writer.”1 Barry Miles argues that the ferry vow “gave direction to Ginsberg's activities over the years, and that he used it as a benchmark whenever he was confused...
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Caveney, Graham. Screaming with Joy: The Life of Allen Ginsberg. London: Bloomsbury, 1999, 216 p.
Documentary of Ginsberg's life and passions, featuring more than 150 photographs and illustrations.
Tytell, John. Paradise Outlaws: Remembering the Beats. New York: William Morrow and Company, 1999, 226 p.
A first-person, conversational overview of the lives, works, and interactions of the poets of the Beat generation.
McClure, Michael. “Moloch's Poet: A Retrospective Look at Allen Ginsberg's Poetry.” American Poetry Review 11, no. 5 (September-October 1982): 10-18.
A retrospective overview of Ginsberg's poetry, written twenty-five years after his “Howl” became widely available to the public.
Moramarco, Fred. Scratching the Beat Surface. San Francisco: North Point Press, 1982, 175 p.
A collection of critical essays and interviews with Beat generation poets, including Allen Ginsberg.
Portugés, Paul. The Visionary Poetics of Allen Ginsberg. Santa Barbara, Calif.: Ross-Erickson, 1978, 181 p.
A critical study of Ginsberg's poetry.
Additional coverage of Allen Ginsberg's life and career is contained in the following sources published by...
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