Big Sur

The vivid descriptions feel deeply personal, almost like a journal. Do readers see this as a reflection of Kerouac's inner world or more of an idealized retreat?

The book's flow mimics a stream of consciousness, but I wondered if that affected engagement for some readers. How did others experience the rhythm?

This fragmented style creates a poetic mosaic, but I'm curious whether Kerouac planned it this way or let the story evolve organically.