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Book Description
As he roams the US, Mexico, Morocco, Paris and London, Kerouac records life on the road in prose of pure poetry. Standing on the engine of a train as it rushes past fields of prickly cactus; witnessing his first bullfight in Mexico while high on opium; meditating on a sunlit roof in Tangiers or fallContinue
Book Details
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Rating:




(9)
- English Books
- eBook 160 Pages
- ISBN-10: 014191193X
- ISBN-13: 9780141911939
- Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
- Pub date: Jul 21, 2011
- Also available as: Paperback and Others
- In other languages: other languages
Prices Change currency & sellers
| ISBN | Edition | List | Sale | Seller |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 9780141911939 | eBook | $14.29 | -- | The Book Depository |
| Other editions → | ||||
I started reading this on the US election day. It seemed appropriate somehow. This book was a little odd in that it was re-telling stories he'd covered in other novels, but I really enjoyed the way he told them in this. It was definitely some of his more beautiful prose, in particular the first stor ... (continue)
I started reading this on the US election day. It seemed appropriate somehow. This book was a little odd in that it was re-telling stories he'd covered in other novels, but I really enjoyed the way he told them in this. It was definitely some of his more beautiful prose, in particular the first story about meeting his friend. It was one of those great Kerouac descriptions were nothing much happens except two people bum around a bit, and it's simply engrossing. I also really enjoyed his description of Morocco and Paris. The other characters in this book were only fleeting glimpses, Burroughs turned up twice but only as a shadow. There was also a lot of descriptions of the cheap food he was able to find, and how even when he didn't need to he still tried to live as cheaply as possible (something I identify with). It was another fascinating read. I feel like I'm getting close to having read everything he's written in a year. I think I may hold off on the last few books for awhile as I don't want the journey to be over yet. There was one gorgeously cynical description that I really loved.
"Ah America, so big, so sad, so black, you're like the leafs of a dry summer that go crinkly ere August found its end, you're hopeless, everyone you look on you, there's nothing but the dry drear hopelessness, the knowledge of impending death, the suffering of the present life..."
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