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I recently finished this book of letters and Kerouac's early letters ('40-'56), and I thoroughly enjoyed them both--I was surprised by how similar they were (addicted to travel, convinced that they were geniuses who had invented a new form of literature, non-conformists to the nth degree,...), and I loved both books.
What do ya'll think?
By the way, I'm Michael and I'm a new member, though I've been reading posts for a couple of months.