I just finished the book Maggie Cassidy by Jack Kerouac. I can't decide how I feel about him. Half the time I think his prose is soooo sooo great, and the other have of the time I don't consider his writing adequate enough to be called literature. For instance, I don't understand what all the hoopla is about concerning On the Road. In my opinion, the book is terrible. He drunkly wrote the novel and its chalk-full of improper punctuation and run-on sentences. I read about half and gave up on it about 7 months ago. It was a huge letdown but at least I have read his other lesser-famous novels; Big Sur, Tristessa and Visions of Gerard - which are sweet reads and I highly recommend all 3. And next I plan on reading Dharma Bums which I heard it quite excellent so I'm looking forward to that. Here are some lovely passages that I dog-eared in case anyone wants to get a glimpse of Maggie Cassidy...
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