With the field of Kerouac studies widening in the last ten years, an often overlooked aspect of his contribution is the spiritual nature of his art. Not to say that Kerouac hasn't before been regarded as a "religious" writer, but there has not yet been a thorough critical study of how spirituality and religion influenced Kerouac's fiction and poetry. Ben Giamo has broken a significant barrier with Kerouac, the Word and the Way. He uses The Dulouz Legend to explain Kerouac's spiritual progression, and the result is a strikingly unique study of Kerouac's fiction. By focusing primarily on the text, rather than on Kerouac myth, he shows us how spirituality manifested itself in Kerouac's novels, while linking the work itself to the inner struggles of a writer in search of meaning.

My only criticisms of this book are minor. First, Giamo doesn't give a strong enough definition of "Spirtuality." Any Kerouac reader would assume this term is a label for Kerouac's Catholicism/Buddhism, when in fact Giamo intends for it to be understood in broader terms: Not simply a search for salvation or enlightenment, but ultimately the search for understanding of self--the search for IT. Stating this more strongly would have provided a better context for the book.

Second, Giamo certainly digs deep into Kerouac's Buddhist studies and how they influenced his writing, but this same attention is not paid to his lifelong adherence to Catholicism. As he immersed himself in Eastern thought, seeking a path of enlightenment--even isolating himself from the world in this pursuit--Kerouac still acknowledged the importance of Christianity in his life. This is evidenced by the seeming dualism apparent in his "middle" novels. Giamo addresses the "split-self" of Kerouac, especially referring to Desolation Angels and Big Sur, but he manages to separate Kerouac's Christian and Buddhist beliefs, as though Kerouac went from one to the other with no blurring of the two in between. Really, The Dharma Bums is Kerouac's only novel that relies soley on Buddhist teachings. Nearly all of the others--excepting the early novels--portray a man attempting to blend the beliefs of East and West to create a unique sense of self.

Even so, this is an extremely important book. Giamo has opened the door to an area of Kerouac studies that has only been given passing reference. Kerouac, The Word and the Way, firmly establishes Kerouac as a Spiritual Artist--rather than an existential wanderer--and takes a major step in clarifying Kerouac's place as one of America's most important writers.

Giamo's study is the best critical book on Kerouac I've read to date -- and I've read them all! Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in Jack Kerouac and the Beat Generation.

I'm not quite sure how to react. Yes, if you're reading this you already know that this is a book about Kerouac's older brother who died at age nine, but that doesn't do any kind of job of telling you what the book is like. Kerouac's style is so...odd. At times it is absolutely, maddeningly impenetrable. At others, it's absolutely beautiful. At others, you get the feeling of reading a first draft of who knows what. At others still, you get the feeling of reading a really beautiful poem with breathtaking imagery. And it never feels like artiness for the sake of self-indulgence. One thing is certain, though - there's a deep and undeniable sadness buried within this book, one that leaves quite a mark when one gets to it through all the barriers, language and others. "Like a load of rocks dumped from a truck onto a little kitty, the pitiful inescapability of death and the pain of death, and it will happen to the best and all and most beloved of us..." (67) I'm not sure what to make of the whole thing, in all honesty. I think I may have to read this book over again in order to go even deeper. In the meantime, you should read it.

This is the earliest chapter in Kerouac's autobiography/novel series. It is a novel that celebrates childhood but not innocence. There is a sense that Kerouac believes, like William Blake, that innocence cannot truly exist on the plane of existence without being destroyed. His brother is portrayed as a Christ of sorts who touches everyone around him with an aura of goodness. As is usual with a Kerouac work, there is no summary that does justice to his novels. The problem with most of them is that the narrator is so prevalent that no other characters seem to develop or have a consciousness outside of his viewpoint. But this novel does not suffer from this weakness. For once he is focused on a character other than himself. With Kerouac, there also comes a paradoxical joy in life and also the sad knowledge that we all will die sooner or later. The only complaint I had about this book was that it was too short. But I guess the same can be said about life.

I've been a fan of Kerouac's work for years. This was perhaps the last of his books that I read. What struck me immediately was Jack's vulnerability, more pronounced than in any other of his works. This is the story of a childhood wronged by the passing of a loved sibling, and I could only sit and think of my own young life, and the death of one of my siblings whom I loved with all my heart. This speaks to anyone who knew the poignancy of pain while young. It is, on one side, a narrative of the causes behind one's own personal declines; on the other side, a prosaical examination of a boy's angelic regard for the kindness of his brother. I loved this book, just as I love all of Kerouac's works. But this single work seems to exemplify Jack's most beautiful side...

As with most Kerouac books, Lonesome Traveler lacks cohesion. This is naturally the essence of spontaneous prose. What this book offers, however, is a good sampling of the types of scenarios Kerouac liked to explore: 1) The Road, 2) Holing up in Isolation, 3) New York, 4) Relationship between the past and present.

While I have never really appreciated Kerouac's descriptions of life as a hobo, riding railcars throughout California, I have to at least admire the experience. It serves as a solid juxtaposition to the New York Scenes and the Big Trip to Europe. These sections are held together by the Desolation Peak section which, along with the New York Scenes Kerouac excelled at writing, proves to be the best writing in the book. The final piece--The Vanishing American Hobo--seems to be Kerouac's attempt to explain why he never fully embraced the wanderer's life, even though he held it in such high regard. Problem is, we already know too much about Kerouac. For instance, we know that Kerouac was the visionary observer, not necessarily the doer. Becoming a full-time hobo would have required too much commitment on his part. He'd rather be one for a few months, then write about them. This is the inherent flaw in not only this book, but in much of Kerouac's writing about traveling: We simply can't picture Jack as the bum he wants to be (though he was an alcoholic and frequent traveler).

This book is a fairly good introduction to Kerouac's work, especially considering its autobiographical style which later become Kerouac's forte. As always, Kerouac does a masterful job of capturing the mood of the time and placing his reader in the middle of it all. And how can you resist his wordplay and rhythm? Still, I would probably save this one for later and read one of his fictionalized bios first, such as On the Road or Subterraneans.

I recently bought this book as a present for my daughter
to read and that prompted me to fish out my old road worn
copy which I carried around religiously during the days her
mother and I bummed around the western US & Mexico.
Kerouac always had the ability to spiritualize the
experience for me. This book exemplifies his respect
and admiration for those individuals who have forsworn the
luxuries of a normal life for the intrisically demanding
rigors of the spiritual quest. Rereading this book had
me aching to be back on the road once again. Want to do
Mexico again, Angela?

"Creative non-fiction" is a come lately term but it fits Jack Kerouac's 1960 account of his real life travels and experiences. The spontaneous, experimental style that marks his fiction is in high use in Lonesome Traveler, particularly in the chapter devoted to the railroad. In that piece, language becomes a mimic of the sounds and rhythms of the environment in which he works, the Southern Pacific runs between San Francisco and San Jose in the early 1950's. Forget words and structure as you know it, but don't worry about getting lost in the prose. If you trust Kerouac, he won't let you get lost, he brings you home in the end. As he visits Mexico, the shipping lanes, the streets of New York, a lone fire look-out on Desolation Peak in Washington State, and Europe, he speaks openly of what drives him. The last chapter is an ode to the vanishing hobo whose ethic he has embraced; as this was written, our changing society was transforming hobos into vagrant criminals and the homeless problem, extinguishing their culture with suspicion and policing. Kerouac is both Thoreau and the hobo, the fine or wide line depending upon how you look at it being his education and pursuit of spirituality.

Most readers come to know Kerouac through On the Road. Those who develop a relationship with his work invariably point to Visions of Cody as the one that hooked them for life. While the plotting and structure aren't nearly as sound as On the Road, this isn't exactly a novel. More like a rambling, poetic love letter to a period in Kerouac's life that was quickly slipping away.

Incidentally, Kerouac did not intend for this to be a companion to On the Road. If the author had had it his way, this would have been the definitive version of On the Road.

Most readers agree that the first 150 pages is by far the best writing in this book. Read this section, even if you put the book down for good afterward. These 150 pages are pure, loose, and brilliant. Kerouac sketching unequaled by any other part of his oeuvre.

As with all Kerouac books, this one has its faults. The middle 200 pages are overwrought and self-indulgent. But that can be said of most of Kerouac's work. The tape transcripts are important reading if you want a first-hand account of the dynamic that existed between Jack and Neal. But this section could have been shortened substantially. Also, for every perfect sentence, there are ten that fall flat--examples of how the spontaneous prose technique had its drawbacks. But no writer is great all the time. And Kerouac's sporadic greatness more than makes up for the notes he doesn't quite hit.

For those new to Kerouac's work, you would be better off reading The Subterraneans first just to get acclamated to the spontaneous prose style. Even then, it will be tough going. But you read Kerouac for more than the storytelling. Faithful Kerouac readers cite the author's inventiveness, his fearlessness, and his unwavering devotion to the written word. Most writers go their entire lives without a sentence as good as, "So pull that skull cover back and smile." And that one is buried in a heep of perfectly constructed, evocative sentences.

For a more critical look at this book, try reading Kerouac's Crooked Road by Tim Hunt (with help from Ann Charters). It offers a thorough breakdown of Kerouac's techniques, while providing an insightful comparison between Visions of Cody and On the Road (two versions of the same idea).

Buy this book! Then forget it's a novel. Forget looking for plot, action or continuity, just read each section like a prose poem. Or better, a short run of notes in a brilliant sax solo. Jack wrote this in 1951 (age 29), right before "On the Road." It's more like a sketchbook than a finished portrait, but on every page his amazing ear takes American English to entirely new places. If you get bored, read it aloud & listen to the surge, chop and swing that Keroauc gives to the language. In "Visions of Cody," he got his vision of America down in a SOUND: staccato, breathless, brave & precise. One of America's greatest poets, and this is maybe his greatest poem. Read, re-read, read again, enjoy.

In my opinion, this is it, this is the best Kerouac book ever written! Why?....HMMMM.....First and formost, this book takes you inside of Jack's mind, you know the things you think about but won't tell anybody for fear they will think your on drugs, well Jack isn't and yes, he was on drugs. But don't let that stop you from reading a GREAT book, the tape recorded conversations Kerouac and Cassady had while under the influence are reason enough to read this book let alone the fact that this IS the real "ON THE ROAD". This book is a insightful walk through the authors mind,though at times it may seem more like a rollercoaster.

To say this is the best book I've ever read might not mean much, considering the fact that I'm only 16 and there are hundreds of other superb books out there which I hope to read someday. Nevertheless, I can't help but give this novel my most enthusiastic support. I've read it twice already, and it has pointed the way towards other Beat works like Naked Lunch, Howl, and One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, as well as several other Kerouac novels, all of which I have enjoyed immensely. At the same time, I was disgusted that I was the ONLY person in my accelerated english class to have even HEARD of the book. At my age especially, when we're inundated by Dickens and Shakespeare (all wonderful, yet sometimes monotonous, pieces of literature), its nice to know that there are novels out there written in a more casual style, a style that we can relate to. I know people who, God forbid, actually read for recreation now that they know books like On the Road exist. On the Road is a wonderful, brilliant book which, unfortunately, isn't used in any high school I've ever heard of. And, contrary to what Mr. Capote may think, it is certainly not just "typing."

As a junior in college, I was hesitant to read a Kerouac novel because of the negative connentations associated with the "Beats". While contemplating reading "On the Road", a friend nakedly asked me, "isn't that book about drugs?" My reply "I don't think so", couldn't mask my nervousness about the content of "On the Road". Was I about to read another dated novel about a scene whose time has passed? Well let me assure the quisical reader that this novel is the complete opposite of tired and dated. Kerouac is an amazing, inventive, and charismatic writer who entertains with every word. I assure you this novel is as entertaining as advertised. The plot revolves around the adventures of Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarity(thinly veiled altered egos of Kerouac and Neal Cassidy) as they cross the country in search of an illusive yet ever present freedom. Enjoyable scenes

1. Paradise's first trip from the East Coast to the West Coast. The descriptions are joyously vivid and intensely enjoyable. Wow!

2. Kerouac's descriptions of a jazz show in San Francisco. His enthusiasm for jazz is well-documented but this scene conveys the love for jazz like no other author has done before or after.

Enjoy this novel with an open mind and a love for powerful writing.

Jack Kerouac's writing is so smooth. It flows unlike any other writing I've come across. He was on Benzedrine when he was writing this book, and at times you feel as if you are on it with his descriptions of the American and Mexican landscape. It is the story of Sal Paradise, and his road trips he takes in the late 1940's. He is searching for so many things; truth, culture, landscape, and his history. The person that either inspires all of these trips or accompanies him on all of these trips is Dean Moriarty, an insouciant free spirit who is likewise looking for some answers. I can't help but feel that there is no real plot to speak of, in the traditional sense of introduction, climax and resolution. However, the important thing to realize is that Kerouac was not trying to tell the story of only one or two people; he was painting of picture of the American landscape shortly after the Second World War. He does this through the interactions of different drifters along the road. The picture he paints is perfect. _On the Road_ displays the post-war era as well as _The Grapes of Wrath_ displayed the great depression. This is a great novel, and can be understood and enjoyed by a person of any reading level.

As great as the Beat fiction is, and life-changing as On the Road is, we get too caught up with the fictitive personas of the Beats. It's nice to see the side of Kerouac, Cassady, and Ginsberg that didn't make it into the novels. I'm sure Carolyn's viewpoint is skewed a little, but so is what we read in On the Road. Between her work and their work we can get a picture of what they were like, not as legends, but as men.

There are times when Carolyn bogs down with too much detail, or too much whining, or patches that just aren't great writing, but all in all it is a good biography, autobiography, and novel.

If you want to know more, here is a good place to start, along with these books, though you probably have read them by now: Kerouac's On the Road and The Dharma Bums; Cassady's The First Third; Perry and Babb's On the Bus; Ginsberg's Howl

A recent appetite for any and all written about Beat Generation(Kerouac, Ginsberg, et al), Ken Kesey and Merry Pranksters led me "Off The Road" while browsing at my local library. I found this book insightful and entertaining and yet knew the downside as Neal's life speeds Furthur and Furthur out of control. I was happy to read of NC's unending love for his three offspring and his true devotion to his friends, even though that comradeship was the foundation for his doomed relationship with Carolyn. I recommend this book to anyone who wants to get a feel for the late 50's and early 60's that altered many lives and lifestyles.

This book,written by Carolyn Cassady, wife of famed beat rebel Neal Cassady, offers us a glimpse of the real life and times of the beat poets. The book begins with the tale of how Neal and Carolyn met and ends with his untimely death in Mexico.

Carolyn recounts her twenty-some years of the tumultuos relationship with Neal and his contemporaries which include, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Ken Kesey, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, et al. Besides serving as a time-line for the beat generation you will also find a plethora of letters and writings that give a true feel of the period.

After reading this book I came away with a much better insight to the fictional works of Kerouac. In fact the book is as much about Kerouac as it is Cassady.

This work gives an in-depth "taste" of the beat period from New York to San Francisco and it's eventual metamorphosis in the sixties.

Christy's book was obviously written for someone doing a Kerouac paper in their high school English class. This is the type of biography you wish had never been published. The fact that it is in print seems to validate what Christy has written. There is so little presentation of known fact--more hearsay and legend than anything else. For instance, Christy claims Kerouac's last words were, "It must have been the tuna fish." I'm shocked neither Charters nor Nicosia were able to dig up this information--but Christy was? Who will be the next self-proclaimed "Beat Researcher" to cash in on the Kerouac revival? This book is on par with "The Kerouac We Knew." Yet another shoddy attempt at exploiting Kerouac's celebrity.

Christy offers an insightful and different look at Kerouac and his works than most biographies. He discusses what was important to Kerouac, such as religion, a topic often given only minimal treatment, and the literary acceptance he wanted but instead received infamy which pushed him along to the grave. Unfortunately, this excellent information is not really integrated into the biography but comes in the last few chapters. (Almost all biographical information about Kerouac's later years is also in Nicosia's Memory Babe.) For those dozen or so pages the book is well worth it!

Forget all the [junk] that most biographers scribble in their dark corners about perhaps the greatest writer of the 20th century (except for perhaps Blaise Cendrars) -- read this book and take a glimpse into Kerouac. Christy has given a great snapshot of the man that was Kerouac. Anyone who slags this book hasn't read it, let it roll around between their ears and finally digest the whole shooting match.

This is a great book!

A must read for the serious Kerouac fan, Pomes is a "Why bother?" for everyone else. Ann Charters wrote "The quality most pure in Kerouac was his grasp that life is really a dream." Nowhere is this more evident than in the random jottings that has been published as Pomes All Sizes. There are some gems among his silly little haikus, and I truly enjoyed the first sequence of "Poems of the Buddhas of Old." Most of the collection left me scratching my head. Was Jack just having a bit of fun with us, or was he so advanced that I still can not grasp the meaning? "Life is like a dream. / You only believe it's real / Cause you're born a sucker / For that kind of deal;" In Pomes All Sizes the roses are beautiful, but the path to them is unpassable to all but the most devout.

I first heard most of this poetry on the CD "Kicks Joy Darkness". I was entranced, and went looking for the book. This is some of my favorite modern poetry. It has interesting rhythm, perspective, organization (or lack thereof) and a variety of emotions, ranging from goof ball stuff to poems about death. As usual with Kerouac you are constantly encountering Buddhism and Catholic thought, along with sexual themes. I do wish he would use grammar a bit more, but hey, I'm not a famous poet who represents a generation. Read it out loud for best effect.

You will not understand Kerouac's writing style by reading "On the Road" or "Dharma Bums." To really dig what he was getting at you have to read his "Belief & Technique in Modern Prose" then read some stuff like "pomes all sizes," "old angel midnight," "visions of cody," "mexico city blues" etc. "Pomes all sizes" is an incredible book, full of astonishing pomes by one of the most important literary innovators of the 20th century, & along with "some of the dharma" it's kerouac's most personal book (but far, far, far more readable than "some of the dharma," which I would only recommend you read after reading everything else kerouac has ever written). Yes, there's lots of silly fragments and intoxicated sketches (where else do you find a kerouac pome written while on morphine or goofballs), but you gotta see Kerouac's style values spontaneity over crafted work, so it is these unpretentious, unselfconscious pomes that are among his greatest accomplishments.

This slim volume is jam-packed with mind blowing pomes: "Mexican Loneliness," "How to Meditate," "The Moon," "Skid Row Wine," "Long Island Chinese Poem Rain," "Silly Goofball Pomes," "God," "Bowery Blues," and dozens of haikus... Yes, the book is inconsistent at times, but after all it is selections from his private notebooks -- and what a rare treat to be invited to spy into a great writer's "secret scribbled notebooks and wild typewritten pages."

If you do not dig this book then you do not dig Kerouac. Nuff said.

If you are new to the Beats, this is a pretty good overview of them. Things that make this book stand out are the pictures, which are not all the usual ones, and the "where are they now" section in the back of the book. But really, could it hurt to do a bit more editing? I mean, I found several typos, and, according to this book, Jan Kerouac died in 1966, three years before her father....

Great photos, nice text. This isn't the book for the hardcore fan of Kerouac or the Beats, but for someone like me, who really enjoys spending a few hours with those boys now and then. You can whiff the Beat cigarettes, sexism, and excitment in these pages. But you also learn about the depressive, conservative, and finally alcoholic side of Kerouac. I'm glad I bought this book, and I would recommend it to most.

I have to admit, I'm a beat-freak. And I suppose when we think of Beats, we automatically think of Jack Kerouac (or Ginsberg or Borroughs)--I know I think of Jack. JACK KEROUAC: ANGELHEADED HIPSTER was a great find on my part. It's a rich visual biography of Kerouac. The book houses a montage of beautiful pictures of Jack, et. al, and is designed in a very aesthetic way--the typeface is supposed to remind us that typewriters did exist back then (I guess they still do, but their not as popular). I liked the book best for it's the photographs Kerouac. The text is not that hard to read, but if you're looking for more substance about Jack, I recommend you buy another Kerouac biography. The book does give you a sense, nonetheless, of who this legendary man was. For folks that want to see the man the book calls "The James Dean of the Typewriter," this book is the one for you. I found myself flipping through the book day-dreaming about being with him during such a revolutionary, exciting, and historic period. (I suppose it was just my luck that I was born two decades too late.) This would be a great addition to anyone's collection.

Ellis Amburn's thesis is that Kerouac's personality and art were shaped by his struggle to reconcile his macho side with his latent homosexuality. His argument is not altogether convincing but thankfully it is basically a minor theme in what is otherwise an excellent biography. And Amburn's theme does raise valid unanswered questions about Kerouac's sexuality. Ginsberg's homosexuality is, of course, no secret, and both he and Kerouac acknowledge that there was some activity between them. And Neal Cassady's attempted hustle of the homosexual driver of the "fag Plymouth" in the motel scene in "On the Road" suggests that he was probably bisexual. But Kerouac himself is purposely vague on the details of his own homosexuality, so Amburn's interest is justified.
Anyone familiar with Kerouacs work, however, will likely have problems accepting Amburn's argument. Conflict over sexual ambivalence simply seems inadequate to explain Kerouac's obsession with life and death, joy and suffering, and man's relationship with God. Certainly Kerouac's loss of his brother Gerard at age 4 had a greater impact on his art than did reconciling whatever homoerotic feelings he had with his self-preferred image as a macho writer.
Many critics have apparently dismissed Amburn's book altogether. The fact that the chapters have been given ridiculously purple titles like "Muscles, Meat, and Metaphysics", and "Sucking Asses to Get Published" doesn't add much to the book's claim to respectibility. ButI found it a valuable and highly readable biography, which presents a picture of the author which I found more accessible and understandable than the Charters or Nicosia books. His research seems sound enough,and there are extensive notes and references, many from JK himself.
Amburn was Kerouac's last editor (he edited "Big Sur") and his comments on working with Kerouac are interesting in their own right, especially when he comes out and asks Kerouac just what he meant in certain ambiguous passages. He also presents numerous details that are omitted or glossed over in the other books, such as the details of the Kammerer murder and the exact nature of Bill Canastra's gruesome death during a subway prank. After reading his book I have a much better understanding of Kerouac's football career, the attraction he felt for Borroughs, and his comples relationship with his mother and with women in general. Details like this flesh out the picture, and do much to make Kerouac's personality more understandable.
I disagree with those who denigrate this book, and after two readings, it has become my favorite Kerouac biography. That Amburn's central thesis doesn't quite hold water (for me, at least) does nothing to lessen the value of this very enjoyable book.

I opened this book as a prejudiced reader, ready to dislike what I was sure would be Amburn's narrow-minded take on the writer, one more reduction of the artist through a filter of one more specialty school. Kerouac dissected by the scalpels of queer theory. I was delighted to find Amburn's immensely readable life of Ti Jean written with open mind and full heart. Satisfying in a way that few of the previous biographies have been, Amburn gives an authentic sense of a very complicated man across a busy and confused lifetime. No easy feat. The bonus is that Amburn also offers up tidbits from the archives unknown until now. (I was unaware that Kerouac once thought of merging Dr. Sax with On the Road and making the first novel the story of Sal Paradise's childhood). Clearly, the biographer cares about his subject even when he delineates Kerouac's failings in a clear-eyed, stinging fashion. There are fine insights into all the supporting cast of characters and its ever-shifting relationships (Burroughs, we learn, thought Cassady a low class con man. John Clellon Holmes suffered with his own alcoholic demons). The whole book is written in a pleasing, non-obtrusive style. Until Douglas Brinkley's official biography arrives, Amburn's book will do nicely to help sate the ever-expanding hunger for Kerouac studies.

For the first time a realistic biography has finally been written concentrating on and revealing in part THE DARK TRUTH ABOUT THE BEAT GENERATION. Ellis Amburn's biography is one of the first to ADMIT in any "official" capacity, and show through the biographical medium of Jack Kerouac, the simple undeniable fact that the Beat Generation is, like most rebellious movements comprised of the young, the unaccepted, the lost, misplaced, unacknowledged, leaderless, angry, artistic, philosophical, experimental, et.al---largely consumed by dark, forbidden ( by society) impulses and passions too powerful to deny and are often obsessed and fascinated by them too much NOT to explore.... It is Kerouac's dream that people want, not the truth of his life; even the numerous biographies have but scratched "the beat surface", somehow writing their way around the truth as if it were a reality whose skirts they were too terrified to lift, as a veil guarding from sore eyes what is not a handsome leg! Not so with Ellis Amburn's subterranean Kerouac! Amburn was Kerouac's editor the last decade of Kerouac's life.... He came into Kerouac's career, fittingly, about the time of "Big Sur", in which K, admits for the first time on record to his Angel that he is going absolutely crazy in the horrific manner of narcotica... K.'s literary skills of graphic description here do not tantalize, but horrify! This is the book that alienated Kerouac's own audience, and Amburn coming on the scene from here onwards is qualified to paint the portrait of Kerouac in a realistic manner worthy of Soviet Realist Literature, who is writing from personal memoir as well as from biographical investigation. Of course all Amburn writes is verified, one can investigate matters thoroughly for oneself thanks to concise bibliographical notated sources, including Kerouac's own "sex-lists", and the information it contains is valid only because, unlike the multitude of biographies out there, it's sources ARE cited.... Kerouac struggled all his life, and the fact that he eulogizes his youth in way that produced the most Romantic literature of his generation cannot ever completely exorcise his roots in the black soil of a poor French-Canadian family of working class origins, replete with all the stigmata of the hell it is to be poor, with an alcoholic, unemployed gambler for a father and repressed, clinging, religious old-world peasant for a mother, and a dutiful son of deep inborn sorrows, "Ti Jean", who loves them at the same time they all lovingly murder one another with smiles on their faces...you know the story, writ in high Romanticism, if you've read his works, which of no writer can I recommend more than Kerouac that you read his own works first before consulting ANY biograpical tomes as Kerouac wrote his own autobiography the way Twain said "noone is more prepared to write about your life than you are" and if you want to learn about Kerouac's spirit written straight from the heart consult his works! If you want the gut-level truth about his exterior life I recommend this one. Out of them all, however, if you don't want to be enlightened as to the truth of Kerouac's life,and believe me many do NOT, then do NOT read Amburn's biography. Even though much of what Amburn writes is mentioned in the previous what?-20?-biographies,it is yet glossed over in a deceptive manner allowing the delusion and the propoganda to continue flourishing and sellsellselling everything from romantic pants to cigarettes. On a deeper level, Amburn is championing Kerouac by writing the TRUTH of his exterior life as it can only raise Kerouac's spirit that much higher exposing as it does the true grit and stamina NOT to suicide himself the easy way, but to create immortal literature in which people will find the Solace and COMPANIONSHIP Kerouac wrote for! Amburn's Subterranean Kerouac is beyond the petty bickerings of what exactly went on at some party in the village 50 years ago, who ahhumped who so immensely they had to be resuscitated...that stuff is all fine-n-dandy but it does NOT get to the heart of the matter that is Kerouacs'! I suspected such a biography as this would upset the lies people want so much to believe, myself included, and they are anybody but Kerouac's lies; but true romanticism is not a flight from reason but a journey towards the ultimate self, and if such a book can upset so many innumerable critics, it's a sign beckoning: "There is something this book did to me that is really troubling to me!" and people rarely get upset by lies if they truly have no significant connotation, let those who admonish and want to kill the messenger bearing bad news go back to their idle worshipping of a false idol, and believe me, it is NOT Kerouac that is false in any way, it is largely the media who has so warped the true vision these writers had, but also those who would not find out the truth for themselves, even when they drink from the very source, that metaphysical horror of existence that Kerouac with sheer courage stands under the gaze of and stares back, constantly driving himself onwards "on the road" to get to the very heart of the matter, as if it were a very definitely real place somewhere within the confines of an "America!". Like any good biography, and there are thruths in each one not to be gleaned from any other, there is rarely any who don't break-down and cry their hearts out at the end of the life of Jack Kerouac. Many, rightly-so have said that to American Artists as well as the average reader, it is akin to the death of JFK for those who hold him close to their heart, a national tragedy. Disarming however is the real tragedy concerning Kerouac was the wretched manner in which he was treated while alive. The brutality of the establishment and the cruelty of mean spirited closed-minded people Kerouac fought against by using beautiful words, in the business of healing words...in the way he is used and marketed today still makes him very much so a 20th century American martyr. Amburn's biography is a portrait of Kerouac's inner-life in the tortured yet beautiful stylizations of German Expressionism. Kerouac fans are lucky, and some doomed, to have it. Regardless, the truth is now definately out there.