To begin with, this novel swept me away with its dreamy beat prose but before long Sal and Dean's to-and-fro-ing across America got dry. I got sick of the charting of Dean's highs, his indecisive flitting between various wives. By Part 4 I was bored and if I'm honest, I began scanning, rather than reading properly, desperate to get to the end. I'm disappointed. I had high hopes for this novel.
Carlo Marx, Kerouac's version of Alan Ginsberg was a redeeming feature but not quite enough to rank this as one of my favourites.