Lucid, and feverish. This is one of few books I’ve read that truly makes you feel like the characters inside it. You’re helpless, and your situation is helpless. The state of mind prose, the tripped grammar, the convention-ignoring mumbling and jumbling and repetitive psychosis infects you as you read this wonderful world and you briefly become, understand, empathise with, Dean Moriarty. I think of Dean Moriarty, a little part of me even wants to be like Dean Moriarty, I think of Dean Mo-riar-ty.