About this title: Another autobiographical novel from Kerouac, THE DHARMA BUMS, encompasses the ideals of freedom set forth by Whitman and Thoreau, with Buddhism thrown in for good measure. Focusing on the friendship between Ray Smith (modelled on Kerouac) and Japhy Ryder (Gary Snyder), the Buddhist sub-theme is evoked in Smith and Ryder's wish to introduce the concept of Dharma to others. Acknowledged by Kerouac scholars to be a more mature work than ON THE ROAD, THE DHARMA BUMS is called "perhaps the most representative expression of the Beat sensibility in a work of fiction" by Sue L. Kimball in "Critical ...
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Note: This is a general synopsis. Each listing is described below.
Binding: Trade paperback
Publisher: Penguin Books
Date Published: 1976
ISBN-13:9780140042528ISBN:0140042520
Description: Very good. No dust jacket as issued. softcover; solid binding; no marking or highlighting within text; VB82. Trade paperback (US). Glued binding. 244 p. Audience: General/trade. read more
Description: Good. Former Library book. Shows some signs of wear, and may have some markings on the inside. Shipped to over one million happy customers. Your purchase benefits world literacy! read more
"It's hard to be bored when you're perplexed by something . . . but that's how I felt while reading (ok listening to) this book. There was no meaning or direction and I didn't care about the characters. I know "direction" isn't necessary for a story to be good, and the point of his story was the lack of direction . . . it just didn't work for me. It's written like a journal, which was cool, but I guess I want to be moved in some way or another. All I saw were these hippie Dharma bums (more bum than Dharma) looking for an excuse not to work and be a part of the moving world. They call each other "Bodhisattva," which got annoying, drink and smoke hash at parties that last DAYS, and sleep around with women - because I guess the only way a woman can become a Buddha is through a man - all the while going on and on about reaching enlightenment like it's a retirement plan.
Wow, I sound a little irked. Maybe there are a few Dharma bums in my own life . . .
Well done, Jack Kerouac. You've moved me. I don't like you. And I like that."
"Early in The Dharma Bums, Japhy Rider says "Comparisons are odious." The narrator repeats this phrase at a couple of other points. With that in mind, I am going to resist comparing this book to Kerouac's earlier and better-known (and more popular) novel, On the Road. The Dharma Bums is another of Kerouac's beat romans a clef. Characters include the narrator Ray Smith (based on Kerouac), Warren Coughlin (based on poet Philip Whalen), Alvah Goldbook (based on poet Allen Ginsberg) and Japhy Rider (based on Gary Snyder. The focus of the novel is on the friendship between the narrator and Japhy Rider. Both are students of Eastern thought, and particularly Buddhism, and both view the Buddhist approach to life as making more sense than the roles available in postwar American consumer society. Thus, the characters spend their time in conversation, meditation and in exploring nature (a particularly good scene describes how Ray, Japhy and another character climb a 20,000 foot mountain). This is not to say that the action of the narrative is set entirely in a wilderness type setting; for instance, early in the book there are some pages describing the now-legendary poetry reading at Gallery Six in Francisco, when Allen Ginsberg first read his poem "Howl." The book is particularly interesting for the conversations among the different characters, who shift without transition from Buddhist thought through existential absurdity and poetic surreal nonsense (but, from a Zen perspective, there is little difference between these things; as Japhy Rider notes "Comparisons are odious")."
"Just finished reading this yesterday and now I really want to go on a long hike up a mountain!
The characters are very interested in Buddhism, meditation, etc. so there are many Buddhist allusions I didn't understand. But, Ray, who plays Kerouac in the semi-autobiographical piece, shows such a grasp and love for life and it's simple, mundane pleasures that I want to read up on Buddhism...and kind of see what all the fuss is about.
I don't know if it's just me, but Kerouac's prose seems a bit sloppy as far as attention to grammar and such, almost as if you're reading someone's journal entries.
One of the things I really liked about this book was Ray's relationship with his good friend, Japhy (another poet at the time, I believe). They learn from each other, they teach one another, and they're brutally honest each other. I feel like they connect on this intellectual level that we don't see much in male to male relationships.
I wish we didn't live in a world of fear (this book was written in the 50's, I believe), where many think of strangers as a possible threat to us, because, to me, it seems such an exciting way of life to do like Kerouac: hitchhike from shore-to-shore, living on the trust of complete strangers, salami, cheese, and crackers, and bottles of red wine. Reading Ray's joy makes me wish I was so care-free."
"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 have to wade through many more scenes of a bunch of poets calling eachother Bodhisattvas, I'm going be forced to set the book down on the table and look very irritated with it before resuming.
...
And upon finishing: I know that Kerouac is one of widely considered one of the great poetic seekers of the last century, but I wasn't especially impressed. The prose often felt hurried (I get the feeling that it was hurriedly composed), and some of his autobiographical detail seemed somewhat self-congratulatory with very little more pointed introspection to balance it, but this is probably mostly due to the fact that I'm just not that receptive to his brand of garbled pan-religious philosophizing, and the means through which he tried to explore it.
Even so, I see the appeal. These guys, flawed as their approach may often have been, really were trying to cut right to the core of life, trying to figure it all out. It's noble, even heroic in some ways. And my favorite passages, those conveying the breathless whirl of trains and trucks and towns out on the road, were exhilarating. Huh, I guess that in light of that I really should give On the Road a try at some point."
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