"Like a reflection of a porkchop on water"

This vivid description immediately brings to mind a rather奇特的景象. One can imagine a porkchop, perhaps cooked to a golden brown, its shape distinct and recognizable. Then, picture that porkchop being reflected on the surface of the water. The water acts as a mirror, distorting the image slightly, yet still maintaining the essence of the porkchop.

The phrase might be used to describe something that is both familiar and yet has an otherworldly quality to it. It could be a memory that seems to float on the surface of one's consciousness, like a reflection on water. Or perhaps it is a situation that feels a bit off-kilter, as if the normal rules don't quite apply.

Overall, this simple yet evocative phrase has the power to transport the reader to a place where the ordinary and the extraordinary collide. It makes us stop and think about the nature of perception and how we view the world around us.

And at that very moment, ladies in black garments, scores of them, are scattered throughout St. Louis de France church.

Some are kneeling, some are sitting, and others are standing at the various special shrines. Their lips are muttering prayers, making similar requests for similar troubles in their own poor lives.

If indeed the Lord seeth all and saw all that is going on and all the beseechment in His name in dark earth-churches throughout the kingdom of consciousness, it would be with pain He'd attend and bend His thoughts to it.

The church is filled with a sense of solemnity and desperation. The ladies, with their black garments, seem to blend into the shadows of the church, as if seeking refuge and solace in the presence of the divine.

Their prayers rise up like incense, filling the air with a palpable sense of hope and longing.

One can only imagine the weight of their troubles, the hardships they have endured, and the pain they continue to carry.

In this moment, the church becomes a haven for them, a place where they can pour out their hearts and seek the comfort and guidance of the Lord.

Whether the Lord hears their prayers or not, only time will tell. But for now, they continue to pray, holding onto the hope that their troubles will be eased and their lives will be made better.

As a seasoned reader of Jack Kerouac,

one who is also more than aware of people's disdain for him and its roots,

this book had a profound impact on me, going beyond my initial expectations.

I have delved into many of Jack's novellas and his so-called "serious symbolistic Impressionistic novels," as he described them,

in addition to most of his major works.

With this extensive reading in mind,

out of his extensive catalogue, I find that his signature freewheeling, poetic prose truly shines in "Visions of Gerard."

Given the subject matter, which is a distant, tragic, and undeniably nascent memory,

the long digressions and the waxing poeticism are entirely fitting.

It is only natural for one to aestheticize these memories in their mind.

Of course, as with many of Kerouac's more "experimental" works,

there are times when this narrative style can become tiresome.

However, there are also moments of crushingly tragic, bittersweet emotional transference,

wherein I found myself empathizing deeply with the semi-fictional Dulouz family.

In short, in my opinion, this is one of Jack's most underrated works.

I would highly recommend it to fans of his other novellas,

as it is very much in the same vein, albeit with a far more sympathy-inducing and tragic subject matter.

Please provide the article that needs to be rewritten and expanded so that I can assist you further.

This book appears to be the most personal among those of Kerouac that I have read up to now.

It delves more into his family, his home, and the people who are closest to him, rather than some random adventure in a distant place.

However, it seems that he still held back to some extent. There was more that he could have said about his brother.

No doubt, it had a tremendous impact on him (obviously). Additionally, the mixture of Buddhist and Catholic beliefs in Kerouac's mind is also an integral part of all this.

The book is concise, tragic, and abrupt. There are no periods (that I could find), and instead, em dashes are used throughout.

It's as if it is a kind of destiny that the end comes so quickly, like one continuous thought.

This unique writing style adds to the overall atmosphere and intensity of the book, making it a truly captivating read.

It makes the reader wonder about the deeper emotions and experiences that Kerouac was trying to convey.

Despite its brevity, the book manages to leave a lasting impression on the reader.

This short book is a heartfelt tribute to author Jack Kerouac's older brother Gerard.

Gerard, unfortunately, passed away due to rheumatic fever at the tender age of nine.

This book is quite different from Kerouac's other works that focus on his later life.

Visions of Gerard presents us with the life of a saintly child.

It seems that Gerard had one foot in heaven even before he took his last breath.

This account does a great deal in helping us understand why Kerouac never abandoned his French Canadian Catholicism.

Even when he was leading a life on the road, constantly on the move, and gradually drinking himself to an early grave, his religious beliefs remained intact.

It shows the profound impact that Gerard's life and death had on Kerouac and how it shaped his own spiritual journey.

This took me an extremely long time to finish.

I got easily distracted, and I was completely burnt out from school.

This was a part of my beat generation seminar assignments.

A beautiful vision of Kerouac’s younger brother had a profound and spiritual impact on me.

Kerouac’s unique way of writing and his perspective on the world will forever remain with me, continuously influencing me as time passes into the eternal.

His words and ideas have left an indelible mark on my soul, and I will carry them with me always.

Even though the process of completing this assignment was arduous, the insights I gained from studying Kerouac and his works made it all worthwhile.

I am truly grateful for this opportunity to explore the world of the beat generation and to be inspired by the likes of Kerouac.

His writing style and his view of life are not only captivating but also thought-provoking, and they have opened my eyes to a whole new way of looking at the world.

I look forward to continuing my exploration of the beat generation and to seeing how their ideas and works will continue to shape my own understanding of life and art.

This book was given to me as a gift.

And while I hold it valuable for that reason, unfortunately, the book disappointed me.

It was like hunting for jewels in the dirt. Every so often, the author would drop the most gorgeous piece of poetry that I have ever read.

But then, for the next 10 pages, my eyes would glaze over.

This book was rather disorienting.

Personally, I don't like when authors withhold punctuation for stylistic purposes.

I understand that this book was about his brother passing and the story in itself was beautiful and the symbolism was earth shattering.

However, I think I just struggled with the writing the most.

The inconsistent quality of the writing made it difficult for me to fully engage with the book and appreciate its deeper meanings.

Despite the beautiful moments, the overall experience was marred by the writing style that didn't quite work for me.

Kerouac's short tribute to his dead brother is written with great love and care.

It is filled with childhood nostalgia, taking the reader back to those precious and innocent times.

The description of the dying young brother also has a certain bizarre saintliness to it, as if he was almost超凡脱俗in his passing.

This work is truly one of Kerouac's more personal and affecting ones.

It allows us to peek into his inner world and the deep emotions he felt towards his brother.

The simplicity and sincerity of the tribute make it all the more powerful and touching.

It serves as a reminder of the importance of family and the impact that the loss of a loved one can have on a person's life.

Kerouac's words have the ability to transport us to a different time and place, and make us feel the same emotions that he did.

Overall, this short tribute is a beautiful and poignant piece of writing that will stay with the reader long after they have finished reading it.

Books like these truly make me come to the realisation that how little ratings actually matter.

I have an abundance of feelings regarding this book. There are so many aspects of it that I will be pondering over and trying to figure out for quite some time.

What exactly do I accomplish by simply assigning a number to it?

Did I like it? Yes. Did I love it? Absolutely. The writing is beautifully painful, touching on emotions and themes that resonate deeply within me.

It makes me question the whole concept of rating books. Is a number really enough to capture the essence and impact of a literary work?

Sometimes, the most profound and life-changing books are those that cannot be quantified by a mere rating.

They stay with us, influencing our thoughts and perspectives long after we have turned the last page.

This particular book is one such example, and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to experience it.

High above, in the tumultuous stormy sky,

a tiny bird with delicate buffeted bones bravely bats ahead, its beak pointed directly into the nose of the wind.

Shrouds of grey rain descend, awe-inspiring and slanting towards our crystal-clear world.

It is the vast sky, the boundless void, that no human fist could ever shape or hold any part of it.

Below, on the soiled surface of the earth, where we all, as human brothers and sisters, emerge like flowers blooming one after another from the fertile and unstoppable joke of the pregnant earth.

We raise the standard bearers of fertility and our ego-personalities, and life unfolds beneath the blown shrouds and the woe-bringing black clouds that June is unleashing from some unseasonal storm.

Patches of brown, yellow, and black are visible, indicating the areas where we live. Chimneys are belching out black smoke, as if proclaiming "The Chimneys of the World!"

And we are like angels revisiting this place.

Coming down, far and wide, the world, the earth, this pot, this place, this organizer of parturience.

There are the chimney smokes fuming up, pouring, and defiling the open space, and there are the tracks, cracks, cities, dead cats floating in rivers, and calendars on the wall indicating June.

3.5 stars.

Kerouac presents a vivid picture of his youth. In this narrative, he not only details his own youthful experiences but also delves into the tragic story of his older brother. His brother suffered from a progressive physical decline due to rheumatic fever, which ultimately led to his premature death. It's important to note that this was during the interbellum pre-penicillin era, when the treatment options for such diseases were limited.

The story is truly touching and heartfelt. It evokes a range of emotions in the reader, from sympathy for the brother's plight to a sense of nostalgia for Kerouac's youth. However, at times, the writing feels a bit amateurish. This is rather odd considering that he wrote this after completing the highly acclaimed 'On the Road'. One might have expected a more polished and refined style. Nevertheless, despite its flaws, the story still manages to engage the reader and leave a lasting impression.