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13 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
How odd., June 14, 2002
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.
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8 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Kerouac remembers his brother poetically, August 6, 1997
By A Customer
Beautifully poetic, Kerouac remembers his brother, Gerard, who died when Kerouac was very young. Birds perch on window sills, while Gerard talks to them, contemplates the world, questions war and wonders why a God would allow anything to die. Kerouac pays homage in short beautiful chapters, which I read over and over again, before turning to the next one. Kerouac blends his Catholic upbringing, with his Buddhist adulthood, and makes one of the most uniquely poetic and religious novels of the 20th Century
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6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
THE BEAT BEGINS, June 28, 2001
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.
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