On the Road by Jack Kerouac

Someone I trust, I can't remember who, recommended I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac, so I bought a copy. I placed it in my to-be-read stack of books and went on my way. Eventually, I came to the book as I worked my way through the stack. To be honest, I moved it down in the pile a couple of times as other books appealed more to me in a given moment. Even after I started reading On the Road, I wasn't sure about it. Something didn't quite work for me at first. For pages and then chapters, I felt like I was missing some crucial element to the story, but I kept reading because it intrigued me and the writing style was interesting. That said, I never could figure out why any of the characters were so fascinated by Dean Moriarty. He came across as just another con man and I don't find con men the least bit charming, so I spent most of the book wishing the narrator, Sal, would wise up and get away from him and stay away from him. I came away from On the Road with one overwhelming impression - Just how much abuse should anyone take in a friendship or any other relationship? On the Road, while traversing the United States and Mexico in the process of searching for meaning in life, is at its core a story about friendship and what constitutes friendship mostly by demonstrating what doesn't.


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