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May 8, 2017 | by  | in Books |
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Satori in Paris — Jack Kerouac

Why have sex, drugs, and rock and roll when you can have sex, cognac, and jazz? Satori in Paris is classic Kerouac. A boozy bohemian with a beat soul barging through everything in his path. But this book isn’t another On the Road. Instead, Kerouac replaces the expanding, dilapidating, and outrageous American highway with the cold, cobbled, and wonky Parisian streets.

Inevitably, Satori in Paris is the diary entry we all wish we could write — running our mouths off about what fantastic lovers we are, being furious travellers, and essentially doing whatever the fuck we want, when we want. But even the most influential beat writer has his own midlife crisis. Some buy Harleys, others may cheat on their partners, or they may feel inspired by American Beauty and get real Kevin Spacey on it. Instead, Kerouac tries to find himself like every other kid on their OE. In one of the last novels of his tumultuous career, Kerouac is hunting the Parisian streets in the hope, to the point of madness and poverty, of finding the origins of the (supposedly) once great Kerouac family.  

Saturated in mayhem and madness, you are subjected to rolling with the punches just as Kerouac does. No matter what any purist English Lit student tells you, beat is best. Gone are any pretentious metaphors and drawn-out, dry descriptions. The writing is true, immediate, and impactful in the way that you can always trust to experience from Kerouac. Satori in Paris also offers many life lessons. These lessons include but are not limited to: how to successfully get drunk on a train while being avoiding conflict, becoming as inebriated as possible at a bar on a tight budget, and being able to be a complete drunkard with good manners.

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