"To be read simply for the pleasure of reading." This quote, presumably by Kerouac, comes from a note at the front of his unpublished typescript Memory Babe. That story and everything else in this volume attests to Kerouac's writing chops. Pleasure reading? Yass! There is so much here, and parts of it I savored as I did On the Road. The editor and translator (some of Kerouac's unpublished work was written in a French Canadian dialect) have polished the gold they found to a pleasing luster. I, also, found the end notes very helpful. It's probably been said already, but Kerouac was the Whitman of the 20th century, and I would not be surprised if his ranking in the pantheon of Amer. Lit. continues to rise. ( )