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The Dharma Bums (Duluoz Legend)

3.94 of 5 stars 3.94 · rating details · 38,431 ratings · 1,431 reviews

One of the best and most popular of Kerouac's autobiographical novels, The Dharma Bums is based on experiences the writer had during the mid-1950s while living in California, after he'd become interested in Buddhism's spiritual mode of understanding. One of the book's main characters, Japhy Ryder, is based on the real poet Gary Snyder, who was a close friend and whose inte...more

Paperback, 256 pages

Published May 27th 1971 by Penguin Books (first published 1958)

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Apr 23, 2011 Paul rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: novels

That's a completely nostalgic four stars of course. Has there been a writer whose reputation has plummeted quite so much between the 70s and now as jolly Jack and his tales of merry misogynism? But like Bob Dylan says

While riding on a train goin’ west
I fell asleep for to take my rest
I dreamed a dream that made me sad
Concerning myself and the first few friends I had

With half-damp eyes I stared to the room
Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon
Where we together weathered many a storm
Laughin...more

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May 17, 2013 Lynne King rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: definitely-to-read, fiction, fiction-us, top-favo

Enfant terrible, a unique individual, jazz lover and a poet; this book, was written when Jack Kerouac was thirty-six years old. He was at the forefront of the Beat Generation in California in the fifties, through to his death in 1969 at the age of forty-seven.

I kept on telling myself this is not my kind of book and I’m not enjoying myself but who was I trying to kid. Yes, it’s “raw in thought” but spirituality flows throughout, even though the catholic faith is viewed through the eyes of (Zen) B...more

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Apr 24, 2009 Nate D rated it 1 of 5 stars Recommends it for: buddhist hobos

Recommended to Nate D by: Everyone

Shelves: postwar-re-de-constructions

So I only just started this, but just look:

"And who am I?"
"I dunno, maybe you're Goat."
"Goat?"
"Maybe you're Mudface."
"Who's Mudface?"
"Mudface is the mud in your goatface. What would you say if someone was asked the question 'Does a dog have a Buddha nature?' and said 'Woof!'"

Fortunately Kerouac's Proxytagonist du jour acknowledges this as "silly Zen Buddhism", but even so, the koan-lobber is a character being presented as enlightened. Of course, I'm going to see where this is going, but if I hav...more

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Apr 06, 2007 Leile Brittan rated it 4 of 5 stars

This was really a pleasant surprise. After making my way through "On the Road" and a few other things by Kerouac, I had come to the conclusion that the dude is a hack, and that the other Beats were really on some way better shit. I just couldn't feel that "rambling" ass style that he writes in, even though I acknowledge that it was a conscious decision of his to write that way.

I get it -- he writes the way he travels, making quick decisions and trying to be spontaneous and spiritual. But to me...more This was really a pleasant surprise. After making my way through "On the Road" and a few other things by Kerouac, I had come to the conclusion that the dude is a hack, and that the other Beats were really on some way better shit. I just couldn't feel that "rambling" ass style that he writes in, even though I acknowledge that it was a conscious decision of his to write that way.

I get it -- he writes the way he travels, making quick decisions and trying to be spontaneous and spiritual. But to me it's kind of just a garbage decision stylistically...personally, I like writers to show a little discipline and take heed to the laws of grammar and punctuation. Plus I think he was just drunk half the time. I write a lot of stuff when I'm drunk too -- it doesn't mean I would try and get it published unless I sat down and edited the fuck out of it, with a clear head one day. Drugs and booze can be good for the creative process, but at some point you've got to sit down and get serious, whittle down your ideas to a respectable form.

Which is what I think Kerouac did here. There is some great writing in "Dharma Bums", and even when he rambles, it flows with the ease and beauty of a rolling freight train, or a babbling brook. Finally, you feel like one of Kerouac's characters have gained something useful and spiritual from the life of being a hobo. Ray Smith, the protagonist, embodies the strengths and faults of a lot of guys I know, myself included sometimes. I only wish I could have been around in the days where the happily homeless poets would congregate in San Francisco, and talk about the kind of shit that these guys do. Sadly, the days where stuff like this happens in America are pretty much long gone, I fear.

I think I will take a second look at some more Kerouac after being pretty durn impressed by this. Namely, "Big Sur" is now on the list. After taking in "The Dharma Bums" and the fantastic introduction which was included in the edition I read, I feel a newfound respect for what Jack K did and the legacy he left behind. He was far from perfect, and a lot of the writing and relationships he left behind make this more than evident. But more than anything I think Kerouac was honest (about everything including his own self-demise, which he foreshadows eerily in parts of this novel). If honesty was his main goal as a writer, in that respect he was definitely a success.

One last thing I found cool about "The Dharma Bums" - a lot of American cultural references are derived from this novel. Not only from the hippies and the neo-hippies, but this is a very influential work in terms of modern artistry. The Anticon Records rappers/poets collective (including Dose One, Why?, and others) referenced this book heavily in a lot of their stuff during the late 90's/early 2000's Experimental Hip Hop Rennaissance. Lines like:

"Fresh bus station water...and it all ends up in tears anyway"

were lifted directly from the text, and put onto all these weird hip hop records I've been listening to for the past decade. I had no idea these were quotes from "Dharma Bums", but I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. Life and art tend to have circular qualities, indeed.
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Nov 25, 2012 Andy Miller rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: favorites

Dharma Bums is set in the late fifties, in Jack Kerouac's life shortly after the events chronicled in On the Road. It focuses on his relationship with poet Gary Snyder and his exposure to Snyder's love of the outdoors and study of Buddhism. I know that some have criticized Kerouac's treatment of Buddhism, but I think those purists have missed the point, what I found compelling was the effect of Buddhism on the lives and lifestyles of the Beat poets and writers.

Reading this 50 years after publica...more

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Apr 19, 2007 tony rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: everybody

consistently one of my favorite reads. i've bought this book three times now and i still haven't been able to hold on to it. the kerouac estate will forever be the recipient of my hard earned dough.

i have to say, it's one of my top ten. not for its far-reaching insights, kerouac's intimate style, or it's lively presentation of a man who was the embodiment, precursor, exemplification, and antecedent to all those to follow dubbed 'heads' or less acurately 'hippies,' but for it's depiction of a ma...more

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May 15, 2013 Robert Mitchell rated it 5 of 5 stars

Rereading the Dharma Bums after probably a ten-year hiatus, I am struck by how foreign the beatniks seem to us today and how that impression must have been magnified tenfold for the Leave It To Beaver folks whom we are told ran the country back in the fifties. Then again Ray, Kerouac's protagonist, hitchhiked back and forth across America and found a surprising degree of tolerance if not admiration from the people stopping to give him a ride. Maybe that's just the nature of people on the move or...more Rereading the Dharma Bums after probably a ten-year hiatus, I am struck by how foreign the beatniks seem to us today and how that impression must have been magnified tenfold for the Leave It To Beaver folks whom we are told ran the country back in the fifties. Then again Ray, Kerouac's protagonist, hitchhiked back and forth across America and found a surprising degree of tolerance if not admiration from the people stopping to give him a ride. Maybe that's just the nature of people on the move or maybe America wasn't really 100% homogenous like the beats and the flower children who followed them claimed.

It would do "the kids today" good to read this book. I'll wager at least half of them won't get past the poetic language with which Kerouac writes his alleged prose. For the texting generation, Kerouac might as well be Shakespeare. A quick read fails to fully appreciate the music in his words. Slow down and enjoy.

For those willing to embrace this new language, a world governed by thought, belief, emotion, experience, appreciation for nature and attention to basic human needs is unveiled; a world plunked down in the midst of the newborn consumer-driven American society governed by brands, advertising, the lure of "convenience," and the first hesitant salvos of pop culture. Kerouac's characters are as well-versed in Buddhism as the Middle America folks they meet are fluent in Christianity. For an introduction to American Zen Buddhism as it emerged in the beat culture of the fifties and early sixties, read Alan Watt's The Way of Zen and then read The Dharma Bums, looking up and studying every reference to Buddhism you don't understand. It's on my list of things to do, along with hiking to Desolation Peak. If you ever listened to the Doors and didn't understand why Jim Morrison sang "the West is the best," read The Dharma Bums and then Steinbeck's Cannery Row and you'll begin to see, if not agree. It wouldn't have broken my heart if the last half of the book had been devoted to Ray's two months on Desolation Peak instead of just the last ten pages, but his adventures hitch-hiking, sitting in his family's woods, sleeping beneath the stars and eucalyptus trees, and riding the rails on the Midnight Ghost are worth every page devoted to them. (less)

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Sep 13, 2011 Madeleine rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: what-he-brought-to-the-bearriage, mmxi, our-libeary

My introduction to Kerouac came in college, when my New York City internship offered lots of reading time via hours spent riding public transportation. "On the Road" was my book of choice during the transitional phase when spring break in Florida drove home the sad reality that I need greenery far too much to ever live happily in in The Big Apple. Such an unwelcome intrusion of honest self-assessment crushed my plans of making a beeline for the city immediately after graduation, but at least I h...more

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Dec 06, 2008 Selena rated it 4 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Philosophers, Poets, Catholics,Nomads

I got my copy in Chicago for a dollar
My friends frienzied onward toward the train
I had the whole thing read by Indiana
and I had been forever changed.

I started, for some time, to weep
about the beauty in a lonely life
stumbling back to his shade tree, Jack found
a magic trap door in his mind.

The nature, she beckons, relententlessly
dewy sweaters on sweet, green leaves
taste like tripping the child right out of me
to dance mercilessly among the marching trees

push, pull, shove, stop step the hell around
l...more

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Feb 15, 2009 Brad rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: classic

So many people I trust and respect love Jack Kerouac. They consistently praise his work to me, recommend books that I should read and even buy me his books, hoping I'll love him like they do, but try as I might I still haven't found what they find in Kerouac's work.

But I do try. Every couple of years I crack out another one of his books that I've started and never finished (which is all but The Dharma Bums and Mexico City Blues), and start reading it again. I rarely get very far.

I did get throu...more

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Jun 25, 2007 Daniel rated it 4 of 5 stars

So we unpacked our packs and laid things out and smoked and had a good time. Now the mountains were getting that pink tinge, I mean the rocks, they were just solid rock covered with the atoms of dust accumulated there since beginningless time. In fact I was afraid of those jagged monstrosities all around and over our heads.

'They're so silent!' I said.

'Yeah man, you know to me a mountain is a Buddha. Think of the patience, hundreds of thousands of years just sitting there bein perfectly perfectly...more So we unpacked our packs and laid things out and smoked and had a good time. Now the mountains were getting that pink tinge, I mean the rocks, they were just solid rock covered with the atoms of dust accumulated there since beginningless time. In fact I was afraid of those jagged monstrosities all around and over our heads.

'They're so silent!' I said.

'Yeah man, you know to me a mountain is a Buddha. Think of the patience, hundreds of thousands of years just sitting there bein perfectly perfectly silent and like praying for all living creatures in that silence and just waiting for us to stop all our frettin and foolin.' Japhy got out the tea, Chinese tea, and sprinkled some in a tin pot, and had the fire going meanwhile, a small one to begin with, the sun was still on us, and stuck a long stick tight down under a few big rocks and made himself something to hang the teapot on and pretty soon the water was boiling and he poured it out steaming into the tin pot and we had cups of tea with our tin cups. I myself'd gotten the water from the stream, which was cold and pure like snow and the crystal-lidded eyes of heaven. Therefore, the tea was by far the most pure and thirstquenching tea I ever drank in all my life, it made you want to drink more and more, it actually quenched your thirst and of course it swam around hot in your belly.

'Now you understand the Oriental passion for tea,' said Japhy. 'Remember that book I told you about the first sip is joy the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy.'

'Just about old buddy.'

The rock we were camped against was a marvel. It was thirty feet high and thirty feet at base, a perfect square almost, and twisted trees arched over it u and peeked down on us. From the base it went outward, forming a concave, so if rain came we'd be partially covered. 'How did this immense sonumbitch ever get here?'

'It probably was left here by the retreating glacier. See over there that field of snow?'

'Yeah.'

'That's the glacier what's left of it. Either that or this rock tumbled here from inconceivable prehistoric mountains we can't understand, or maybe it just landed here when the friggin mountain range itself burst out of the ground in the Jurassic upheaval. Ray when you're up here you're not sittin in a Berkeley tea room. This is the beginning and the end of the world right here. Look at all those patient Buddhas lookin at us saying nothing.' (less)

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Jun 25, 2012 Jason Koivu rated it 3 of 5 stars

Slap a few rhyming words together vaguely associated with your intended meaning and call it philosophical poetry. That's my problem with some of the beat poets, whom I blame for the crap classic rock songwriters of the 60s and 70s passed off as lyrics (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0iuax... I digress. Kerouac can spin an enjoyable yarn, as long as you don't mind rambling along with him on directionless paths with no real goal in mind but to spin that yarn. Even though he cheats the reader with...more

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May 22, 2012 Claudia rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: letteratura-americana

"...abbiamo scelto di pregare per tutti gli esseri viventi e appena saremo abbastanza forti riusciremo davvero a farlo, come i santi dell'antichità. Che ne sai, il mondo potrebbe svegliarsi e sbocciare dovunque in un bellissimo fiore Dharma."

I vagabondi è il secondo libro di Jack Kerouac che leggo. Il primo è stato il suo capolavoro più noto, Sulla strada. Il confronto è inevitabile.
Entrambi i volumi sono narrati in prima persona: in Sulla strada la voce narrante era Sal, ne I vagabondi il nar...more

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Aug 07, 2008 Joan rated it 1 of 5 stars

Too much bum, not enough dharma.

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May 03, 2013 Ensiform rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: fiction

Ray Smith (a stand-in for Kerouac himself), an itinerant poet, and his friend Japhy Ryder (Gary Snyder) search for an affirmative way of life in the mindless bustle of the modern era. Preferring cabins and hiking to cities and desk jobs, the two live a Bohemian existence, getting drunk, bedding willing girls, and reciting haikus when inspiration strikes. Parties that last days and involve casual nudity and sex (though Ray seems to be eschewing sex, or simply can’t get lucky), hitch-hiking, poetr...more Ray Smith (a stand-in for Kerouac himself), an itinerant poet, and his friend Japhy Ryder (Gary Snyder) search for an affirmative way of life in the mindless bustle of the modern era. Preferring cabins and hiking to cities and desk jobs, the two live a Bohemian existence, getting drunk, bedding willing girls, and reciting haikus when inspiration strikes. Parties that last days and involve casual nudity and sex (though Ray seems to be eschewing sex, or simply can’t get lucky), hitch-hiking, poetry readings, and hikes to Desolation Peak are funded by the occasional job as a fire watcher up in the mountains. Along with other poets who live similar lives (every character is a pastiche of one of the figures in the Beat movement), they try to live a western version of Buddhism; they have differing ideas on how to live the dharma way, but call themselves equally bhikkhus (monks) and have good intentions. What they have in common is an inability to abide, or intense distaste for, the middle-class way of life in 1950s America. Ray stays on his mother’s property and spends his nights meditating, derided as a bum by his brother-in-law; Japhy sets out for a lengthy retreat in Japan.

Primary to this soulful novel is an honest, exuberant search for a life full of meaning – not necessarily a stoic life or even one beyond material concerns, but a meaningful one. Reading this novel at past forty, with my own insignificant flirtations with Buddhism, Zen, hitch-hiking and so on behind me, I’m not sure it has the power to move me. It probably retains the power to inspire even this modern generation of starry-eyed college students, however, if they could get past the sometimes primitive attitudes toward women Kerouac seems to have had. The novel is a little goofy and a bit slipshod in places (he accidentally calls Zaphy “Gary” once), but Ray is a charming, guileless character, and maintains a quiet assurance in the ability for a clear-eyed person to make his own truth.(less)

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Oct 23, 2010 Ms. Fenn rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: finished-irp-books

Dharma Bums is for the hiker/outdoorsman, the aspiring buddhist sage, and the lover of beautifully woven syntax. Ray thumbs his way across the continental U.S. two, almost three times. In his travels, he meets hobos, family, friends, yabyum partners, Zen Lunatics but mostly he discovers a love for the essence of nature and the power of it's awesomeness. Ray overcomes some personal demons with the help and guidance of Japhy Ryder. Eventually, he decides to take a post as a fire watcher on top of...more

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Nov 26, 2008 Keleigh rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: schooldaze, truth, yearnings

Kerouac is innocent and rowdy and loco, unjaded and earnest, a real goodfellow. I tried reading On the Road as a high schooler and was unimpressed, I was too serious and uptight. I lacked experience. This time around I get the Zen stuff, yo, I was put off at first by his attempts at telling what is impossible to tell, but he reveals himself, he risks ridicule to show how sincere he feels, and how arrogant too, like when Rosie dies and he thinks if only she had listened to him, if only she knew w...more Kerouac is innocent and rowdy and loco, unjaded and earnest, a real goodfellow. I tried reading On the Road as a high schooler and was unimpressed, I was too serious and uptight. I lacked experience. This time around I get the Zen stuff, yo, I was put off at first by his attempts at telling what is impossible to tell, but he reveals himself, he risks ridicule to show how sincere he feels, and how arrogant too, like when Rosie dies and he thinks if only she had listened to him, if only she knew what he knew. He writes the pure callow self-centeredness of first discovery, not yet humbled, convinced of his singular chosenness, here to show the world how it’s really done, what’s really possible. And the amazing thing is he does, did, he introduced the West to Buddhism in a way that, as far as I know, hadn’t been done before. There’s a wildness that gradually gains harder edges as the story wears on, becomes slightly less ebullient, more tame in the way of impending bitterness, but then not at all bitter, just the slight threatening impending-ness of it, because the world is gonna change and you know it and he may or may not know it, but certainly his world is changing and nothing of course can stay the same, including good old Japhy. And then there is that last section, he writes the "religious" experience of extended solitude in nature with such joy and authenticity. I have wondered for years how to convey the experience of connecting with God, with Source, sans sentimentality. I am not exactly sure how he does it, my hunch is that he succeeds by constantly reconnecting with the physical world, rather than going up into his head in airy transcendence. He puts you in touch with the land and the air and the stars in a way like no other. It’s a natural world and in the natural world people eat and smoke and piss and get agitated for no good reason and madness must be followed by peace and peace by madness. In someone else words, “After the ecstasy, the laundry.” Ray experiences moments of enlightenment, followed by feeding the cat (135). They get sick of parties and sick of each other. And they are also so dearly devoted, it’s a man’s man’s world, and there is such tenderness in these male friendships. Women are good girls or mad girls or hangers-on, but that’s fitting for this period in the narrator’s life, trying as he is to stick to celibacy (with hints of something obviously beneath that, like a deep-seated fear of women, a little boy’s awe and sense of mystery).

You either get it or you don’t, I think, and this time around I got it.
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Nov 20, 2008 Iz rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: travel

So this is what started the "backpack revolution". Great. Except it was less backpacking, more Buddhism preaching. The main character (Ray?) comes across as a patronizing nutcase with his combination of drunken bumhood, Christianity, and Buddhism.

So he is a buddhist - correction: he thinks he is Buddha - and he also thinks he is a "crazy saint". He believes he can perform miracles, namely cure his mother of allergies, but then decides he won't perform miracles anymore because that will make him...more

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Mar 10, 2010 Abailart rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: fiction

Also, read. A long time ago and I gave it five stars from memory. My stars are based on fondness and not literary judgment. I had an urge to read it again. It's a part of my youth reading, so maybe nostalgia takes me back to one of the key texts of that youth.
I'm nearing the end of it. I am not convinced at all that Kerouac is a great writer in some monolithic sense (which would be imbued with all sorts of dubious moral-aesthetic imperium) but he is very good at what he does well, very honest in...more Also, read. A long time ago and I gave it five stars from memory. My stars are based on fondness and not literary judgment. I had an urge to read it again. It's a part of my youth reading, so maybe nostalgia takes me back to one of the key texts of that youth.
I'm nearing the end of it. I am not convinced at all that Kerouac is a great writer in some monolithic sense (which would be imbued with all sorts of dubious moral-aesthetic imperium) but he is very good at what he does well, very honest in that the tone never wavers or plays tricks for effect. One particular aspect of honesty that saves his pop buddhism from absurdity is his genuine love of people irrespective, neutral compassion untinged by negative value judgments such as of the bourgeois, the unelightened, the 'square'. Also, some of his insights into Japhy are chillingly accurate such as the great Zen acrobat's fear of entering a run of the mill restaurant where people dress well (in a bourgeois, unelightened, square way). But Japhy, bright and gleaming is, too, the epitome of the American ideal individual: "What hope, what human energy, what American optimism was packed into that neat little frame of his!" The understated, so more potent, hints of dissipations and borderline madnesses (Rosie's death is a crystal that throws all the Dharmic mud into its proper relief) are framed by a narrative of trying earnestly, desperately to outrun the wearisome (because Japhy keeps going on about it) American system of consumption and production and thereby being the more strongly and deeply attached to it. Indeed, as an accurate record of a cultural current in American history of the 50s, and atavistically of the current 'new' age, it is an indictment of an individualism far more intense than competitive materialism posits, and of the consumption of various fragments of ersatz hokum pokum that allows its spiritually hedonistic carriers of the Dharma to substitute engagement with history, the struggle for justice, a genuine self development and self-actualised independence - with a commitment to love all creatures, twigs, stars and to talk to ants. My feeling is that Kerouac would not be utterly unsympathetic to this reading. It's largely autobiographical and we should be grateful, to use that word honest again, to have a writer so honest we learn about ourselves a little more, and uncover what our pseudo-innocence would prefer left covered. Hints too, throughought, especially on the road, and when brought feelingly to mind by Ray the suffering of the invisible masses. America, like an individual, has its Yes and No.
There is much fine writing here. The descriptions of landscape are often stupendous. Kerouac's evocations of the mountainous Canadian Pacific borderlands - "this torrent of purity at my feet" (Ch.32) - moves the sensuous to the sensual. The final chapters indeed convey joy in the simple beingness, whether it is magical or 'real', among the mountains.
Whether he were a Calvinist farmer, a disciple of Thoreau and or Whitman (who is mentioned, of course) or Emerson, the whole gamut, that appeal of cleanliness and purity through simplicity and effort, of achieving for the sake of achieving rather than gain (such as the still, to me, excellent account of the ascent of the Mountain) do seem to resonate deep down, at least in the post-romantic western cultures. Possibly transhumanist or inhumanist vision typified by Robinson Jeffers touches Kerouac's imagination: certainly the abstract conceptualising of humans as vain and fragile creatures, like upside-down beetles they are described at one point, suggests such a polarising I've hinted at (and which may be part of our basic pyschic make-up, or a refraction of it).And if this is clumsily put, that which I'm trying to indicate, I'd suggest going to Kerouac who manages it so well, and not in spite of the flaws expressed (leave aside literary flaws) of the passing moments in a life, but precisely because of the flaws.
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Sep 16, 2007 Brian rated it 4 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Any Beatnik fan

My first introduction to Kerouac was "On the Road" in Dr. Kaylor's Humanities II class at UNI. I found a kindred spirit whose writing style seemed to be my own (see any of my tucked-away journals of those days)...the rambling, stream-of-conscience style that people either got it or they didn't. That was in 1992. I reread it again in 1994. So it has been a while...

Kerouac isn't for everyone. Most everyday readers might find it to be a breath of fresh air but others will be struggling for weeks to...more

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Jun 05, 2007 Morgan rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: religion-slash-spiritual

A good read, although I did find it to be a bit pretentious and hypocritical, at least on the part of the main character (whom I can only assume is an extension of the author). While I do appreciate the struggle towards enlightenment, I feel that there are two problems with the book.

Firstly, the main character's attitude towards Christianity is the same attitude he receives from others about his Buddhism, yet he does not see the parallel, and does not see his own closed-minded nature reflected...more

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Sep 14, 2007 Brian Bowen rated it 3 of 5 stars Recommends it for: ramblers

If you've read "On the Road", then you know what you're getting into with this one. Lots of half ironic wine-steeped philosophy, casual flings with sexually liberated females, and aimless epic adventures fueled by poetry and hip flasks of port. I read it to get a bit of perspective on the whole "On the Road at 50" media frenzy, and all my impressions Kerouac's style of writing still hold in "Dharma Bums".

The plot is loose, but the VOICE is key. As Kerouac rambles along with life-affirming zest,...more

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Aug 15, 2012 Luís Nunes rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: geography, buddhism, mind-heart

As an introduction to Buddhism, it seems interesting to review how Buddhism came to the United States by the desire of the hitchhikers of the beat generation. Some confusion is remarkable and one that feels totally void in Buddhism this book may seem rather esoteric. But as a book that describes a time and seeks to describe the small events of a journey, giving them a literary sense, and even spiritual, is a book that rejuvenates us. Looking at all this ingenuity around the Western Buddhism at t...more

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Jan 14, 2013 Molly rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: 2013, fiction

Kerouac gets so self-involved and whiny in places here that it becomes difficult to take him seriously... and I find his patronizing attitude toward every single female character in the book really, really aggravating.

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Nov 08, 2012 Autumn rated it 1 of 5 stars

Shelves: dharma

aside from a few nice metta passages, and the last pages, not enough dharma or even introspection. too much racism, misogyny, homophobia and heavy drinking which are not qualifications to proclaim oneself a boddhisattva. dead at 49. r.i.p.

one star for inspiring me to go camping.

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Jan 05, 2011 Brian rated it 3 of 5 stars

9/25/04 - 7/10

Dharma Bums is very similar in vibe to On the Road. The narrator is a lot like Sal, and Japhy is 'mad' like Dean. This is a bit more upbeat, spiritual and nature focused. It's all about seeking truth through Zen Buddhism, poetry, nature, drinking and sex - all in great abundance. The buddhist stuff can be a bit much at times, but I appreciate the quest for truth and the focus on living life to the fullest. I liked a lot of the nature passages. The Matterhorn description made me wan...more

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Mar 19, 2009 Troy rated it 2 of 5 stars

My one-phrase rundown: vaguely interesting, but I wouldn’t recommend it.

I should acknowledge the likelihood that I’m just not smart enough for Kerouac. It took me longer than it should have to power through the book, and there were numerous places I almost threw up my hands in exasperation and quit.

Tellingly, the most difficult parts for me were the turgid and pretentious discussions of, well, the nature of everything. Which of, course, is nothingness. Except that nothing is everything, all of...more

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May 18, 2013 Jen rated it 3 of 5 stars

Sometimes, books are far more important for the lens through which you read them than for the stories themselves. This was given to me as a gift for graduating from high school by my older brother's best friend, a wannabe Bohemian bum on whom I'd had a half-secret crush since the seventh grade. Nearly a decade after that, having clawed my way to other graduations and not seen him in several years, I've finally read it, and I can see so clearly his delight in the recognition that things can be be...more Sometimes, books are far more important for the lens through which you read them than for the stories themselves. This was given to me as a gift for graduating from high school by my older brother's best friend, a wannabe Bohemian bum on whom I'd had a half-secret crush since the seventh grade. Nearly a decade after that, having clawed my way to other graduations and not seen him in several years, I've finally read it, and I can see so clearly his delight in the recognition that things can be beautiful and that the society he disliked so much didn't have to be everything. A good portion of any liking for this I have is in remembering Mark, then, and I'm not sure whether Kerouac and Ray Smith would applaud that or not.
This book is part of what might very loosely be called a series, I think, termed The Duluoz Legend by Kerouac himself and including the more famous On the Road. I don't know whether the in medias res is true, then, or the product of my not having read anything else of the series--probably both. Either way, you are dropped into the life and narrative of Ray Smith, a Buddhist wino writer in the 1950s who is constantly trying to understand being nothing and everything like his Zen linguistic logger friend Japhy.
The characters are interesting and incredibly vibrant (if not completely identifiable; names aren't often immediately attached as people appear and exit). It took a minute to get used to Kerouac's writing style, a sort of headlong rush through ideas and memories that have never troubled themselves with things like proper commas or semicolons as they roll down the hill of bonfire parties and orgies and hitchhiking cross-country with now-impossible jaunts into Mexico. It was irksome at first, but it became part of the feel of these meandering lives with great drive but no real trajectory (a description some of the Dharma bums would wholeheartedly embrace, I feel).
This also has that sort of philosophical arrogance of your 20s, when you've discovered that you don't have to live in The System and obey The Man (Kerouac has serious feelings about television, especially, likely because it was relatively new), and you know the world is beautiful and people can be beautiful if you just pay attention. That's cool. I've heard the sentiment doesn't really last, but it's nice, and familiar across this kind of journey literature.
I can't get behind the sort of new-age/oldfangled Buddhism the bums are all sorting out, but it does bring up some great ideas and I'm glad I finally read this, on a journey, in my 20s, thinking of shaggy-haired Mark the guitarist who gave me a book in congratulations.(less)

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May 15, 2013 Tom Lombardo rated it 5 of 5 stars

Jack Kerouac died from alcoholism in 1969 at a young forty-seven, a tragic end to a glorious life, especially because it deprived him of enjoying his ascendancy from marginal hipster novelist to major American writer. He received very little critical fame before his death, even though his novels were fixtures in the popular consciousness. One of the founding members of the Beat generation, Kerouac embodied everything that happened between 1950 and 1969.

America built the modern version of itself...more

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May 11, 2013 Amy rated it 4 of 5 stars

I HATED Kerouac's On The Road. Not enough kick-ass lady characters for me, and I thought Kerouac's characters were assholes. So I waited at least 20 years to read another one of his books. Maybe I shouldn't have.

Dharma Bums was a much needed read for me. It got my head out of urban Seattle out into the Sierra's, into Marin County, up the coast to my neck of the woods and up into Skagit County. My beef with Kerouac's female characters still exists - the first one we meet is an earth momma who has...more

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About Jack Kerouac

Jack Kerouac was an American novelist, writer, poet, and artist. He is perhaps the best known of a group of writers and friends who came to be known as the Beat Generation, a term he himself created.

Kerouac's work was popular, but received little critical acclaim during his lifetime. Today, he is considered an important and influential writer who inspired others, including Tom Robbins, Lester Bang...more

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“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.” — 3,311 people liked it

“Down on the lake rosy reflections of celestial vapor appeared, and I said, "God, I love you" and looked to the sky and really meant it. "I have fallen in love with you, God. Take care of us all, one way or the other." To the children and the innocent it's all the same.” — 431 people liked it

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