Just as I never made it to Point Reyes or Big Sur during my time in Cali, i somehow I never finished reading this book during my teen Beat phase. Or maybe I did go there and had also finished reading this book? Fuck if I know.

Funny how the page count is not as high as I recall. Maybe I was afraid of the lack of paragraph breaks? Maybe a raccoon stole my glasses?

Anyhoo, Ben Gibbard and Jay Farrar have a new music thing which lifts words from this book.

The first time I read this I thought I would also have a three week bender when my cat died. But now I've quit drinking instead I decided to re-read this and see Kerouac's grief about loosing his cat. This time the horror of the bender didn't seem as terrifying as the awfulness of the people he ended up on it with. It really was a desperate look at how awful alcoholism is. It makes it extra sad that he could articulate that so clearly, and yet still die from it a few years later. I think it safe to say that he was actually much unhappier famous, than he was when he wanting that earlier in his life. But having read Carolyn's book his little insight into their relationship seemed even sadder. A story of great tragic lives and kinda creepy hangers on.


I have to say I REALLY LOVED this book. The writing style was just as amazing as On the Road but I found the subject matter more interesting. I think this was largely due to the transformation Kerouac had gone through and was much more tragic. I think the shorter time period of the book, barely more than a month, suited his style well as he was able to go into much more depth. The basic story was about an alcoholic 3 week bender he had after his cat died. It was pretty horrific, and I have to say ended up being much more terrifying than anything in the opium eater. I'd VERY highly recommend it. I shall have to keep reading things by him.

Big Sur is a gem plain and simple. Anyone familiar with Kerouac's style will sink into the friendly embrace of his stream-of-consciousness style, while at the same time be stunned by it's blunt honesty. This is Kerouac at his sincerest and most human. In this book, we encounter Jack Kerouac reflecting on his success from On the Road, and desperate for an escape from the lifestyle that he's created for himself. Unwittingly, Kerouac provides his readers precisely what he himself is seeking: an escape from the pressures of outward life and a raw look at the inward psyche. A pleasure to read, more balanced than Kerouac's other words (that I've read) with Jack's "beatnik antics" countered by lush descriptions of his seclusion in Big Sur. Highly recommended to those looking to escape in literature.