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menakalda 's review for:
The Dharma Bums
by Jack Kerouac
This book shows how its the ending that really matters at all, and sets the tone for the whole book.
Kerouac’s devout ‘Buddhism’ feels snobby and sexist for the majority of the story; Gary Snyder himself criticized Kerouac for using Buddhism to belittle and objectify women. Kerouac spends an entire winter isolating himself in a grove in the North Carolina woods, convincing himself he’s become enlightened and lamenting the ignorance of his non-Buddhist family. He bemoans the futility of his friends’ partying before getting blackout drunk himself. Which is, of course, fine and not hypocritical because he is enlightened and a bhikku.
Gary Snyder’s character, Japhy, makes the book enjoyable. Perhaps because he is sincere and humble in his meditations. Buddhism and its exoticism in 1950s America doesn’t make him a god, because he is Buddhist because he believes it and wishes to uncover truths about existence.
The end of this book, however, makes it all worth reading, and redeems Kerouac. His descriptions of the hostility and beauty of nature are enough to make you understand that Japhy’s way of life is far better than a comfortable modern existence. Suddenly, at the end, you believe Kerouac’s Buddhism.
Kerouac’s devout ‘Buddhism’ feels snobby and sexist for the majority of the story; Gary Snyder himself criticized Kerouac for using Buddhism to belittle and objectify women. Kerouac spends an entire winter isolating himself in a grove in the North Carolina woods, convincing himself he’s become enlightened and lamenting the ignorance of his non-Buddhist family. He bemoans the futility of his friends’ partying before getting blackout drunk himself. Which is, of course, fine and not hypocritical because he is enlightened and a bhikku.
Gary Snyder’s character, Japhy, makes the book enjoyable. Perhaps because he is sincere and humble in his meditations. Buddhism and its exoticism in 1950s America doesn’t make him a god, because he is Buddhist because he believes it and wishes to uncover truths about existence.
The end of this book, however, makes it all worth reading, and redeems Kerouac. His descriptions of the hostility and beauty of nature are enough to make you understand that Japhy’s way of life is far better than a comfortable modern existence. Suddenly, at the end, you believe Kerouac’s Buddhism.