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..."