I’ve just finished the best book I’ve ever read.
The book is On The Road, by Jack Kerouac. It’s so good I’ve discovered a new emotion: post-book blues. It feels like post-holiday blues, but instead of thinking back to moments frolicking in the sun with friends, I’m reminiscing about life affirming, inspiring passages from the book. Good books compel you to keep reading. The best books make you finish reading the paragraph you’re on, put the book down, stare out the window, and quietly say “Fuck”.
If you’re a fan of travelling, if you’re an armchair adventurer, if you’re an oddball, if you’re completely normal, if you’re a wild sociopath or as dull as a tub of margarine, read this book. It will make you see things differently. Jack Kerouac is far from perfect, and his friends are a mile off. Follow them through their questionable adventures and frequent felonies, though, and I defy anyone to not be infected by Kerouac’s inextinguishable lust for life. To him, all the world is poetry. It’s beautiful.
He reads some of the book in this video. It’s worth a watch (or ten).