Who would win: the Beat generation or the crushing weight of reality? ( )

This is a worn down and haggard Jack, fighting to keep some of that idealism and spark alive, but well aware that he can't outrun fame, addiction, or myriad other demons eating away at his body and spirit.

For joyous, crackling prose, I prefer "Dharma Bums", but for a character study of what happens when a guy who delights in the simple joys gets caught up in the heat and confusion of being deigned king of an entire cultural movement, "Big Sur" is mighty compelling.

( )

I read On the Road as a teenager and thought it was great. Reread in my late twenties and became bored. Got inspired to read Big Sur because I had a brief trip out to California and wanted to read something (not too long) on the fight.

My take is that Kerouac may have had a little bit of talent, but more than that he had timing and personality. He wrote about a particular American idea first and with a personal style/look/attitude that sold well. That's not his fault, but Big Sur makes it feel like it was his downfall. He didn't want this much attention because he didn't have any big idea or really that much to say. The talent is pretty much gone (with the exception of a couple of good lines or jokes, but you'd feel like any hack could stumble onto given two-hundred pages), and all that remains is the alcoholic's psychosis and paranoia. I did think it was interesting at times as he explores how addiction pulls him away from what he knows he needs. It seems like the drinking in San Francisco or with old friends isn't even fun. There's no joy, just gut-rotting self-destruction. The last chapters feel a little like a bad acid trip--which is what I suppose you arrive at when you go on a decade long bender. ( )

What I learned - Beat stuff is not for me. ( )

I read "On The Road" about ten years ago, at a time in my life when I really connected with the style and what the characters were going through. Now I'm close to the same age Kerouac was when the events of "Big Sur" took place, and I hoped to similarly connect with this one. There were definitely points that I strongly related to, particularly with how he struggled with drinking while around his friends even though he was clearly happier getting off the sauce and tending to his writing. However, there were also sections in the first half of the book that felt too much like "On The Road" in terms of the narration and attitude, not quite grown out of romanticizing his own career choice. The prose is quite messy in spots, but every few pages you get a gem of a phrase that cuts right to an experience in a way I'd never seen before, and the last third of the book had real drama. All I can say after finishing it is that I am very happy I quit drinking several years ago. Also, I'm not sure if it's included in every version of the book, but "Sea," the poem at the end, totally sucks. ( )