This BOOK OF DREAMS is what JACK KEROUAC saw in his sleep, not day-dreams or day reveries. It's his private dream-record, all his nights strung together. It's the poetic raw material of the Kerouac saga, the substrata of his novel and a commentary upon them.
Jean-Louis Lebris de Kérouac, known as Jack Kerouac, was an American novelist and poet who, alongside William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg, was a pioneer of the Beat Generation.
Of French-Canadian ancestry, Kerouac was raised in a French-speaking home in Lowell, Massachusetts. He "learned English at age six and spoke with a marked accent into his late teens." During World War II, he served in the United States Merchant Marine; he completed his first novel at the time, which was published more than 40 years after his death. His first published book was The Town and the City (1950), and he achieved widespread fame and notoriety with his second, On the Road, in 1957. It made him a beat icon, and he went on to publish 12 more novels and numerous poetry volumes. Kerouac is recognized for his style of stream of consciousness spontaneous prose. Thematically, his work covers topics such as his Catholic spirituality, jazz, travel, promiscuity, life in New York City, Buddhism, drugs, and poverty. He became an underground celebrity and, with other Beats, a progenitor of the hippie movement, although he remained antagonistic toward some of its politically radical elements. He has a lasting legacy, greatly influencing many of the cultural icons of the 1960s, including Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Jerry Garcia and The Doors. In 1969, at the age of 47, Kerouac died from an abdominal hemorrhage caused by a lifetime of heavy drinking. Since then, his literary prestige has grown, and several previously unseen works have been published.
I connected a lot with this book. The way Kerouac's dreams unfolded, the images, the metaphors and the associations made a lot of sense to me. Just like On the Road and Dharma Bums - books that work on an emotional level.
Even though it lacks a regular/traditional structure and a discernible rhythm like that of On the Road, Book of Dreams can be considered, in a way, the most important expression of Kerouac's writing, in the sense of what he aimed to achieve: an exploration of the subconscious.
This book is purely for the Kerouac connoisseur. Not that you shouldn’t read it if you haven’t read a few of his other works, you just won’t enjoy it as much as one who has. It’s one of those books which you can open up to any line in the book and read from it for pure enjoyment. The first night that I opened this book that’s the first thing I did. I started flipping through pages and reading bits and pieces and ended up really enjoying it. Some of the stuff is repetitive and uninteresting, but if you do so happen to have a copy, just go ahead and read what pleases the eye with no concerns for anything else.
NOTE: The Goodreads listing indicates 250 pages. My copy with the cover shown, same isbn, and publishing date has 339 pages.
This book stands apart from Kerouac’s other works as a simple dream journal. Ultimately, this book may be only for the hardcore Kerouac fan. It took me nearly two years to finish though I would put myself in that category.
It is just as you might imagine reading an account of someone else’s dreams might be- vaguely interesting though largely inaccessible. For those seeking insight, nuance or depth into Kerouac’s character or his writing process, those are to be found.
It is surprising how he really does seem to resist much waking explaining, editorializing or commentary and analysis.
I am fascinated by how strong of a presence his childhood friends have in his dreamscape. While I didn’t catalog appearances, they seem to show up far more frequently than his contemporary friends or even his girlfriends and wives.
The latter part has a little more contextual info including some dates and places where entries occurred. I would like more of this. You also see Buddhist imagery and language make a sudden and thorough incursion into Jack’s dreamscape, just as it had in his life.
Sen. Joe McCarthy makes so many appearances it is almost as if he is Jack’s Virgil, guiding him through the circles of his often hellish dream world.
Not surprisingly, his mother, Gabrielle or Mamere lurks in many corners, usually directing Jack’s dreams, criticizing, or complaining that she is hungry.
Kerouac kept a "dream journal" from 1952-60 in which he would jot down remembrances and thoughts on recent dreams immediately on waking. As you can imagine, such notes would be written while the brain was in a state of flux, re-adjusting to reality and the results might range from clarity to complete gibberish; and this is what the reader encounters. Although the writing is uneven there are sections that compare with Kerouac's best efforts and aside from possibly Big Sur, nothing that Kerouac ever wrote was as personal.
All the characters that readers will recognize from the On the Road Days are here: Neal Cassady, William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, Lucien Carr, et al., but interestingly, it is the people he grew up with in Lowell, MA that seem to occupy the prominent place in his subconscious. Doctor Sax and Maggie Cassidy, his two novels about Lowell, are referenced as frequently as his more better known works.
His dreams run the gamut from sexual fantasies to apocalyptic nightmares but there are many that relate to his deep insecurities and his status as an important writer. There is a lot of self-doubt: "I'm like a thinner younger Major Hoople who really had a small taste of early success but then lost it and came home to live off his mother and sister but goes on "writing" and acting like an "author." But he also recognizes his standing as an author and denigrates those who succeeded because of him, particularly his good friend, John Clellon Holmes, whose novel "Go," published some five years earlier than On the Road was proclaimed as the first "Beat" novel.
There is lots of good stuff in Book of Dreams, but without a wide reading of Kerouac's works, would be lost to those unfamiliar with him.
About 7-8 years ago i first picked up this book but didn't finish it because i was too distracted by study and finishing my Master's.
So, i decided to go back to page one and start it again. This books not only offers you a fascinating glimpse into one of the greatest minds of the twentieth century, but also showcases Kerouac's absolute and steadfast devotion to his calling as a writer. What amazed me was not only the detail he was able to recall from the dreams but also how he was able to cross-reference previous dream segments and connect them either visually or symbolically to more recent dreams. I suspect that Kerouac must have been rereading his dream journal often in order to do this.
Some of the dreams are of course completely absurd but that does not make them uninteresting.
I also enjoyed seeing people like Burroughs, Cassady, Ginsberg and Huncke appear often in his dreams because their behavior in the dreams probably reflects how Kerouac saw them in real life.
A fascinating book, unique in the Duluoz Legend, and well worth reading but IMHO not among his very best books
This is not a book for the uninitiated. The reader must be familiar with Kerouac's life in order to fully appreciate this beautiful book. Kerouac's books are all autobiographical to varying degrees. This book is an autobiography of Kerouac asleep. It is written in his wondrous, singular prose, which, in many instances here, comes nearer to poetry. The book informs the reader of the extent to which Kerouac was a product of his birthplace, Lowell MA. Each recording of a dream of Lowell, and there are many, is a thing to be treasured. Kerouac was haunted, in all senses of that word, by Lowell all of his life. Here we find further proof of the fact. Simply, for lovers of Kerouac, this book is essential.
In general Kerouac is one of my favorite authors and I think his Duluoz Legend series is amongst my favorite prose / autobiographical series. As a result of Kerouac's fame, a lot of additional things were published that I consider much more tangential, and this Book of Dreams is a poster child for that.
The text is Burroughs-like in its direct stream of consciousness approach with some entries being a couple of sentences, while others span several pages. Like any dreamscape, you need to have a lot of context to even keep track of the characters and there is no logic, no cohesive narrative, and as a result, very little to keep you reading on. I picked this up on and off for several years because I find this type of text difficult to read in anything but short bursts. While I can see where Kerouac's dreams often informed his texts, I don't think there was a large value in publishing this actual volume and only recommend it for Kerouac fanatics who have literally read the rest of the Duluoz Legend and his poems, and even then a re-read of the better works is probably a better use of time.
This is a disjointed collection of prose in which Jack Kerouac recounts his dreams. While the dreams themselves aren’t always interesting, the descriptions Kerouac writes are beautifully crafted. Often the dreams revolve around encounters with random people throughout the day including family and friends. His use of minute details highlight the mind’s strange ability to manufacture scenes from the subconscious into vignettes we see in our dreams. Jack Kerouac often writes about his own sadness and darkness. He describes things as spectral and grey, often while recounting dreams of dying or succumbing to drug addiction. He also writes bright visuals of his collegiate football career, working on navy ships, and having sexual encounters. Book of Dreams exhibits Jack Kerouac’s subconscious mind to the reader in order to gain a closer glimpse into the literary mind of one of the greats.
Unsurprisingly, these are scribbled fragments of remembered dreams written by Kerouac in that half-awakened state that comes once slumber is broken. In the main, they are stream-of-consciousness ramblings and it is often difficult to work out what is going on; but dreams don’t make much sense though do they? I suppose the difference is not everyone publishes their dreams…
There is an index of people who appear in the dreams who eventually became characters in his novels, which aficionados will likely appreciate, but I’m afraid this reader was bored. For diehard Kerouac fans, or people who like reading dreams remembered verbatim.
Unless you are deeply in love with Kerouac, you are probably not going to care about what he dreamt about. The idea of the book is sweet and might be a good thing to keep for oneself, but unless Jack had had the reputation he achieved, this book would have been of little interest to most. Although some of the dreams were fun to read about, you cannot expect more of this book than what it is: the reminiscence of totally random dreams that will not add anything to your life. Read half the book and cannot be bothered to finish it as I can already tell what it is going to be like. Probably not the best book to start Kerouac with.
Not Kerouac's finest by any measure, but this personal dream journal is interesting, sometimes entertaining. Especially of interest to readers familiar with Kerouac's other books because sprinkled throughout his recounting of dreams, there are bits of incident and flashes of people fans will be familiar with. - In the end, there wasn't much point in this collection, but it at least offers an unusual reading experience.
One of the dreams is exceptionally inappropriate. Exceptionally. Additionally, this book is probably only relevant if you are invested in the Beats. If you are invested in the Beats, this is (mostly) an intriguing addition to their lore. It's also inspiring to read as a writer. Kerouac got me into writing intially and this book reminded why.
This is a decent supplement to the Duluoz Legend, an alternate, shadowy romp through Kerouac's dream life, an odd parallel to the reality on which his fiction is based.
Book of Dreams is better understood as poetry, and I would recommend familiarising yourself with Kerouac’s life and body of work as it will make some sense of his dreams.
I was so intrigued by the title of this book and for the fact that i've heard and read lot of reviews about On the road. Jack Kerouac belongs to the Beat generation which includes Allen Ginsburg's Howl.
So I picked up this book and began reading on the train journey back home. Somehow, books read during train journeys affect me a lot. However, this book really did affect my mind so much that I couldn't fathom or focus on the ideas written by Kerouac. His dreams are just way too different than us common people. He writes in a very fractured manner in the book. It looked interesting as i read his list of characters who interchange names with a few of his other books. However, could not make sense of such a decision. And when someone picks up a book with such a potentially charming title, one expects too much....probably that's what happened to me.
I was eager to delve through the dreams of a wanderer's mind...but the wanderer did disappoint with his haywire anecdotes that ended up mostly tiring my mind. What was supposed to be a beautiful narrative that would have made me (and other readers) fall in love with Kerouac simply ends up being too complicated and gawky. I am a bit sceptical now about starting On the road.
Não sei se foi a tradução, ou a própria essência do estilo de Kerouac, mas raramente eu desisto de um livro, e esse claramente não tinha nada pra dispor de interessante depois da pagina 80 (não que até aí tivesse sido bom). Gostei de algumas partes, mas grande parte do tempo me sinto um intruso na vida de outra pessoa, que na boa, não é lá essas coisas... Um pervertido sem rumo, alucinando em breves momentos sobre coisas que me interessavam tão minimamente, que não fazia sentido boa parte do tempo. Em dois dias eu li todo Juventude de J.M Coetzee, mas não conseguia ler quatro páginas do livro dos sonhos sem achar que tinha algo errado em como eu estava lendo, noque não foi o caso. Lamento por que até agora gostei de os subterrâneos e vagabundos iluminados, e acho que finalmente lerei on the road pra retomar a glória do beat que eu curtia.
My impression of this book is similar to what I got out his letters. You capture an image of Kerouac—the one featured as a hero in his books—now in a sometimes ugly fashion. I enjoyed the letters, and (at times) the dreams, as 'honest' portraits of a man more 3-dimensional than he usually casts himself in his fiction. In the end, though, it just. dragged. on. I found myself leaving it on the bedside for months at a time--it's not as though it was a sequential narrative I had to track. The introduction says the publication I had was the 'complete, intended' Book of Dreams, more than double what was originally published. It might of been good to just have the original, more succinct version. I might not of tired of it so...
It's okay for what it is: just a dream journal. No overarching narrative or anything. I read a few entries at a time over a long period, before sleep. I wouldn't have stomached this to read it like a normal book. Some dream entries were quite interesting, revealing something about Kerouac, others were not. It's also pretty long for what it is: 184 pages. I'm glad I didn't pick up the one that's 360 pages. Maybe there are some cool dream entries there too, but it all started to feel samey toward the end of this one, I wouldn't want to read that 360 pager. You get the gist of his dreams soon enough not to need twice the length of the version I read, I think