What did I get out of this book?
That’s probably a bad way to approach it. The dharma bums talk about how why is meaningless and there should be no why.
It seems like this book is focused on telling a story without words. Moreso than in his other works, I really don’t know what the fuck is going on most of the time. It all seems to blur in one and I’d put this book down and think ‘did I really just read anything’? Was I just imagining reading?
Through it out, there are beautiful sad moments. Kerouac doesn’t really know anything about the outdoors, or Buddhism. But we’re taken along in the eyes of a child exploring it all, not afraid to try things or say things or do things, and like a child that likes to get shit faced on red port Kerouac explores these topics and worlds through friends with a great openness.
It’s beautiful, but I’m glad it’s over.