Bums

Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums does not fall too far from a basic description of his life. Kerouac spent the bulk of his writing career riding trains from city to city, meeting people and writing books and poetry. He was among the premier writers of the Beat Generation, a group of primarily urban poets and writers who put the basics of life and their spiritual nuances into poetry with a beat. The book, The Dharma Bums, is a window into the daily structure of the

The Dharma Bums Aesthetic Response   After the opening chapter of the novel in which the narrator writes, "Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running- that's the way to live" (7), I knew that the book was not only going to be interesting, but also great. I was not displeased after finishing it either. The Dharma Bums struck me as being one of the most fantastic books that I have ever read; one that contains an amazingly

Mass Society in The Dharma Bums and The New American Poetry       One of the best ways to fully understand an era is to study its literature. The printed word has the incredible capacity to both reflect and shape the hopes, fears, and ideologies of the time. This is very evident when reading literature from 1960's America, a turbulent period in the history of our country. While the authors' styles are very different, there are definite thematic patterns and characteristics evident in

“Who comes to commend me on my way of life”-Han Shan. In the novel, Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac brings the topic of intent change and self-development. Written in the 1950’s a pivotal time between the exploration into individualism, and the reconsideration of traditionalism. The novel follows Ray Smith and his journey of self-discovery through help from Japhy Ryder and his own isolation. Ray spends two months completely alone on Desolation Peak, the purpose was his own self-discovery, expression

Importance of Mountains in Kerouac's Dharma Bums and Barthelme's The Glass Mountain     Mountains are significant in the writing of Jack Kerouac and Donald Barthelme as symbolic representations of achievement and the isolation of an individual from the masses of the working class in industrialized capitalist American society. The mountains, depicted by Kerouac and Barthelme, rise above the American landscape as majestic entities whose peaks are touched by few enduring and brave souls

Bronchiole Bum Facility, to the Bronchus Bro’s Center for Bums, to the Trachea Transition House, Larynx and Pharynx Recreation Centers, and finally the Nasal Cavity Church of Jesus. The Bronchiole Bum Facility is a small operation, mostly for gases freshly kicked outta college. These facilities are all over the place at Heart & Lung University, as they flunk out a lot of students. The Bronchus Bro’s Center for Bums is a much larger operation. They take care of bringing all of the CO2 bums together

2013 A True Dharma Bum One of the most powerful quotes in the entire book that I feel sums up what it is to be a dharma bum, “ I felt free and therefore I was free”. This quote from Ray Smith shows that a dharma bum must always believe in oneself and take the journey to becoming a Dharma bum from within. Although one can learn from fellow dharma bums such as the Saint Teresa bum, Han Shan, and Japhy the ultimate truth of being Dharma bum comes from within. Saint Teresa Bum is the “first genuine

Bum-bum-bum-bum Bum-bum-bum-bum Bum-bum-bum-bum…. The drums beat relentlessly, never ending, my vision flashes and I’m standing before myself. My eyes are empty, white irises, devoid of human emotion. My nightmare version smiles at me and opens his mouths as butterflies begin pouring out. I still hear the drums, the drums of war beating against my head. Bum-bum-bum-bum….. Four rapid notes in quick succession never changing, never relenting, not even for one second. Slowly pushing into my head

Bums I see them whenever I walk down the street. Tucked into nooks and crannies, they house themselves everywhere on Mango St. Their eyes study my every movement, and their ragged breaths fill the air. Broken shards of glass lay strewn across the single cot that they call home. They own nothing but the clothes on their back, clothes that have not been washed in years. Their faces are hidden under a thick coat of wrinkles and grime. Every night, they scavenge through the bins for food. Whenever a

contained a certain family. "But mom I'm almost finished with the game!" Said a certain lazy bum. "I don't care what your doing! You will help your father take care of this house as long as you are staying in it young man!" Said a voice that you may have guessed was a certain someone's mother. "Damn this house and Damn you, all I want is to be able to play my video games and to not be disturbed!" Muttered the lazy bum named Malthus as he shuffled his way upstairs to see what his father wanted. < A few