I always admired Kerouac's ability to describe everything he so acutely
observed with such flair and imagination, I often had difficulty with
some of the other expressions of his mind. I knew him so well, I could
tell when he was being bombastic, silly or playing to the audience,
and I would feel embarassed for him.
In Big Sur I found
a change in his writing. I don't know if it was a turning point, but
in this book he was much more honest, more objective as well as subjective,
far less self-conscious. I felt it a step forward in his writing, but
a sad prediction of what was to become of him.