Summary

In Chapter 1, our narrator, Ray Smith, is resting on a gondola car en route from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara. A "thin little old bum" soon joins him on the car and the two silently ride together as they attempt to keep warm in the cold train. While the train is stopped, Ray asks the bum to watch his pack while he runs to a nearby store to buy wine, bread, and candy. Upon returning and noticing the old man's pitiful supply of sardines, he offers him more food and contemplates the Buddhist conception of charity mentioned in the Diamond Sutra. The narrator, who is speaking from the future, comments that he is now more cynical about such notions. The bum ignites a brief conversation by showing Ray a small prayer to Saint Teresa that he carries around, and then the duo part ways at a crossing. Alone on the beach, Ray cooks himself a meal of packaged foods and wine while contemplating the vastness of the universe and the experience he has just had. He records the thoughts and dreams he has as he drifts in and out of sleep.

Ray connects the first chapter to the second, which occurs later in the future, by drawing a parallel between the old man he has just mentioned and his more recent friend Japhy Ryder: he calls them both "Dharma Bums." The focus is then on Japhy, whose life is outlined from his childhood in the woods of Oregon through his college days and his eventual blossoming as an Oriental scholar. Ray recounts a fabulous event in which a beautiful blonde wearing a bathing suit, in exchange for Benzedrine, drove him to San Francisco: it was there he saw Japhy for the first time walking with a knapsack on his back.

The rest of the chapter is devoted to describing a raucous night that he and Japhy share, beginning with a drug-filled party at a bar called "The Place." Among a crowd of stereotyped poets, Japhy, who is wiry, dressed in secondhand work clothes and sporting a goatee, seems out of place, but Ray admires his poetic skill. Before the reading starts, the narrator observes that he only focuses on two facets of Buddhism ("All life is suffering" and possibly "The suppression of suffering can be achieved") and feels that Japhy's esoteric, scholarly knowledge is meaningless.

The poetry reading takes place at "Gallery Six," where Alvah Goldbook (modeled off of Allen Ginsberg) recites "Wail" (Ginsberg's "Howl") and Japhy rouses the audience with his straightforward poetry. Aforementioned poets, each with their own style, perform, as Ray riles everyone up and generally enjoys himself. Later, the rambunctious crowd head over to a restaurant in Chinatown, where Ray asks one of the cooks a question about a particular Buddhist. Japhy believes that the cook's answer, "I don't care," is "Perfect...absolutely perfect," adding "Now you know what I mean by Zen."

The third chapter, which occurs at an unspecified time in Ray's life, is also primarily about Japhy. Ray is living in a cottage in Berkeley, California, with poet Alvah Goldbook. Although his residence is modest at best, he is also clearly fond of it and describes it with a sentimental relish. Japhy, a minimalist, is living a mile away in a tiny shack that includes little other than straw mats, crates that serve as a table, cooking utensils, unused Japanese shoes, and books (which, Ray notes, are the only valuable things he owns). Even his clothes are old hand-me-downs.

When the narrator goes to visit his companion, he finds him sitting on a straw mat, sipping tea and translating Han Shan's poem "Cold Mountain." Japhy makes Ray some green tea before telling him about Han Shan, a non-conformist who writes about his lonely journey climbing a frigid mountain. Ray does not understand why his friend has translated the poem so elaborately and loosely, but Japhy explains that he needs to make it clear and passable to fellow scholars. The two agree that, in spirit of Han Shan, they should go on a mountain climbing expedition; in fact, this journey does occur in upcoming chapters.

The narrator notes that his friend looks remarkably melancholy and asks if he has been meditating today. Japhy confirms Ray's suspicion and tells him that he actually meditates daily, although certain people interrupt him: a girl, with whom he plays something mysteriously referred to as "yabyum," as well as Rol Sturlason, who happens to show up then to discuss his upcoming trip to Japan. At the end of the chapter, Rol explains the existence of the Ryoanji rock garden, mysteriously arranged so as to be "mystically aesthetic." The narrator does not fully appreciate or understand this discussion, but notices Japhy's philosophical serenity and how different this visit is from the night of the poetry reading.

In Chapter 4, Ray, Warren Coughlin, and Alvah Goldbook decide to buy some alcohol and visit Japhy. Coughlin points out that Japhy has two sides: he is a quiet, wandering bicyclist, but his friends also remember his rowdy, bacchanalian party days at Reed College.

When the trio shows up, Japhy, who is reading a book of American poetry, suddenly produces a knife, yawps, leaps violently, and runs toward Ray, who is holding the jug of alcohol. Ray instantly believes Japhy is angry with them for interrupting his studies, but surprisingly he grabs the jug and immediately begins to drink it. The four men then talk merrily for several hours about such things as poets and poetry; Ray offers readers a "sample" of their conversation.

The night ends when the three friends stagger home, drunk, boisterous and happy. Ray confesses that he feels guilty for ruining his friend's studying until the next night, when Japhy shows up with a girl and tells her to take her clothes off.

Chapter 5 begins with Ray and Alvah sitting quietly, drinking tea and reading poems. Japhy and the girl (named Princess) arrive on bicycles. Ray realizes that he forgot to mention that Princess in fact came over to Japhy's shack after Rol Stuarlson (which occurred in Chapter 3) and seemed incredibly unruffled - even pleased - with his sexual comments. The narrator, who confesses that he had met Princess - and been infatuated with her a year ago - naively agrees to be shown "yabyum." When he comes back with a bottle of wine, he is shocked to find his three companions in various stages of undress.

Japhy and Princess sit steadily facing each other as Japhy explains the rite of yabyum, a holy ceremony in Tibet. Ray, though, continues to be appalled, especially when the three of them begin to engage in sexual activity. Ray, torn between his enormous desire for Princess and his devotion to abstinence, eventually succumbs to temptation and begins to kiss Princess's hands and arm. After yabyum, Ray and Princess bathe together and it is determined - to everyone's delight - that this should be a weekly ritual.

Princess claims that she is a Bodhisattva - "the old mother of the earth" - and Japhy fully supports her, spouting academic and historical jargon, as he condemns America for its stringent constraints on sexuality. Afterwards, Ray and Alvah discuss Japhy and determine that he is brilliant, speculating about where he will end up; they believe he can do anything.

That night, when Ray is in the yard looking up the stars, Alvah, who cannot sleep, comes and joins him. The two get into an argument: Ray disparages Alvah for living in what he feels is an "illusory" physical world, while Alvah retorts that the physical world is certainly more real than the abstruse mumbo-jumbo that Ray believes in. Eventually, Alvah departs in a huff, but Ray calms himself with the assurance that the fight was not "real." As he falls asleep, he vehemently denies his desire for Princess.

Analysis

The very first sentence of The Dharma Bums is quite revealing. It reads, "Hopping a freight out of Los Angeles at high noon one day in late September 1955 I got on a gondola and lay down with my duffel bag under my head and my knees crossed and contemplated the clouds as we rolled north to Santa Barbara." Immediately apparent is Kerouac's unique writing style - simple, relaxed, and conversational. Largely unfettered by punctuation marks or grandiloquent vocabulary, the author's prose mimics the phrasing of a young child who is breathlessly eager to tell a story. On another level, Kerouac's narrator, who writes about "hopping a freight" and "getting on a gondola [car]" as if they are completely natural ways to travel, has already begun to exhibit his own defiant and carefree nature. Finally, the character's pose - resting against a duffel bag as he stares at the sky - suggests a sort of easygoing, dreamy spirituality. Thus, by the end of the first sentence, Kerouac has already managed to set the tone that will underlie the remainder of his novel.

It is important to note, however, that Chapter 1 of The Dharma Bums contains a lengthy passage that is not only antithetical to the rest of the book, but, if taken seriously, disturbingly undermines all that is to come. Ray, who is narrating this story from the future, sadly comments that "I've become a little hypocritical about my lip-service and a little tired and cynical....But then I really believed in the reality of charity and kindness and humility and zeal and neutral tranquillity and wisdom and ecstasy...at this time I was a perfect Dharma Bum myself and considered myself a religious wanderer." This contrast between "then" and "now" is striking. Kerouac's "laundry-list" of virtues is practically parodic; he sounds like a hardened adult chuckling about his silly childhood dreams. There are no other passages like this in the rest of the novel-it ends on an extremely idealistic note. Eerily, though, it foreshadows the cynicism that Kerouac's himself would develop later in life.

After the narrator, the first character that Kerouac describes is a bum who is modest and religious, meek and frugal, "the kind of thin quiet little bum nobody pays much attention to even in Skid Row." Ray is charitable toward him because he feels pity toward him, but will eventually learn from Japhy what it is like to "give for the sake of giving;" the first old bum thus serves as a marker for the "starting point" of Ray's journey into Buddhism. However, Kerouac's immediate mention of a likable "Dharma Bum" who is quiet, pitiable and harmless, also serves the purpose of setting up the novel's structure with rebel/outcasts as worthy heroes, pitted against unforgiving cops and a biased public.

After the introductory chapter, Kerouac jumps right into the heart of all aspects of Beat lifestyle, from drunken poetry-parties to solitary study and meditation. Here is Kerouac's first introduction of the concept of simplicity as happiness, when Ray repeatedly describes the run-down dwelling place he shares with Alvah Goldbook as ideal: "We had a perfect little kitchen with a gas stove, but no icebox, but no matter. We also had a perfect little bathroom with a tube and hot water..." Japhy's dual nature as rowdy party-goer and quiet scholar is also made very explicit in these first five chapters. When his friends come over with a bottle of wine, he is in the middle of studying with a cup of tea; but then again it is Japhy who interrupts his friends' teatime by bringing Princess over for yabyum.

The beginning of the book also includes a number of telling lines that reveal Ray's strange attitude toward Japhy. He at first describes the man with obvious admiration, from his "strong and wiry and fast and muscular" body to his "eyes [that] twinkle like the eyes of old giggle sages of China. At the same time, though, their conflicts of principle are foreshadowed: "I warned him at once that I didn't give a goddamn about the mythology and all the names and national flavors of Buddhism, but was just interested in the first of Sakyamuni's four noble truths, All life is suffering." Ray's monosyllabic responses to Japhy's discussion about Han Shan and Buddhism are particularly ambiguous and may even reflect sarcasm. Ultimately, he concedes that "I have never met such weird yet serious and earnest people."

In the last chapter of this section, Ray's devotion to celibacy ends with a "tough-guy" self-affirmation that is little more than thinly veiled denial. Ray's overly-rough diction - "I wasn't taken in by no Princess or no desire for no Princess and nobody's disapproval" - is itself proof that he is trying desperately to ignore his own urges and is a clear example of pragmatism in The Dharma Bums; in other words, it demonstrates that Ray believes whatever he feels he ought to believe in order to get through life as smoothly as possible.

Summary

The time has come for the mountain-climbing trip that Japhy and Ray discussed in Chapter 3. Ray, apparently, is much less knowledgeable - and somewhat less enthusiastic - than his friend. Japhy has to explain that it is freezing cold in the mountains at night, that they must not carry too much food, and that after climbing the mountain they will be too tired to crave alcohol. Though somewhat skeptical, Ray shrugs off his concern and simply converses with his friend as they head over to his shack. Japhy says that he has "played yabyum" with Princess twice more since Thursday; he seems quite willing to "satisfy the Bodhisattva." He also talks about his youth, his job as a fire lookout, his mountain-climbing adventures, and the romantic lifestyle of a logger. According to Ray, the eccentric Japhy is a stellar figure who is under-appreciated on the college campus - which, after all, is nothing but a "breeding ground" for a sort of conformity that Japhy himself mercilessly derides.

After they get to Japhy's shack, the duo head over to Henry Morley's house down the street: he has the car. Morley, though a mountain-climber, wants to bring an excessive amount of unnecessary junk on the trip, including an air mattress, a pickax and canned food. At last, Morley gets ready, and they start off on their journey around 10 p.m. According to the protagonist, Morley is an "actual madman." Ray recounts several stories about him, and comments on his quirky, nonsensical conversational style.

The drive is enjoyable, but eventually the three men stop at a bar in which a slew of hunters are gathered, eagerly awaiting the start of deer season the next morning. The hunters ask Ray, Japhy, and Morley if they have seen a deer; indeed, they have. Ray reflects on the event, and also Japhy's reluctance to drink away the money they saved by buying cheap dried foods. Now, though, the alcohol has made Ray and Japhy mellow (Morley does not drink), and Japhy tells Ray about his dreams to visit his childhood home in Oregon as well as Japan. Japhy's Buddhist leanings cause him to be ireful toward the hunters, but Morley-before going off on a discursive tangent-professes to be "neutral."

They leave the bar, and at two in the morning, Morley pulls over so everyone can get some rest. Ray, in an extremely optimistic mood, spreads out his sleeping bag and looks forward to an enjoyable, meditative rest. Unfortunately, though, Morley has forgotten his sleeping bag and only has his air mattress; they must now share the three sleeping bags as blankets, much to Ray's irritation. Moreover, his friends' shifting keeps Ray awake all night. As he watches the sunrise, Ray wonders miserably "why [Morley] didn't just forget his dreary air mattress instead."

Henry Morley has a bizarre habit of yodeling at odd times - like, for example, the morning that opens Chapter 7. The three are freezing, but Japhy eventually gets a bonfire started that warms them up effectively. It is, the narrator remarks, a beautiful morning. He himself begins to yell Morley's yodel call - "Yodelayhee" - but switches to "Hoo" when Japhy explains that it is an authentic Indian way of calling in the mountains.

Although they eat the bread and cheese that Japhy has packed, it is unsatisfying, and no one protests when Ray suggests that they stop at a lodge for breakfast. Their waitress is shocked that they are not hunters, but climbers intending to brave Matterhorn Peak. Still at the restaurant, Ray indulges in his sensory perceptions: he comments the cool water with which he washes his face and the pleasant feel of it in his stomach; the scenery; his silent breakfast; the serious, sober hunters.

When they leave the restaurant, the men see Matterhorn rising formidably in the distance. Japhy, Ray notes, looks nostalgic.

In Chapter 8, Morley decides to scour the little town of Bridgeport for a sleeping bag in anticipation of a bitterly cold night in the mountains. While he is gone, Ray and Japhy wait lazily together in the hot sun and talk briefly with an Indian hitchhiker, whose lifestyle they idolize. Morley returns with the news that the best they can do is rent blankets at the lake lodge, which they do before unpacking and starting off on the trail.

Japhy loads up Ray's knapsack and demands that he carry it; Ray is satisfied with his "leaderly" attitude and poised, rugged appearance, which he describes in great detail after Japhy draws a mandala in the dirt for good luck. When Ray remarks that walking in the mountains certainly beats getting drunk, Japhy remarks cryptically that "Comparisons are odious;" everything is, after all, only part of the void. Ray finds this revelatory and the two friends affirm their gratefulness to have met one another.

Just as they are passing some construction workers and ready to start out on the mountain trail, Morley realizes that he has forgotten to drain the crankcase of the car. This is actually a very important task - it might freeze at night, exploding the radiator and leaving the trio without transportation - and so the guilty one has no choice but to hustle back and catch up with them later. At first, Ray is annoyed; then, he feels bad for Morley, but soon realizes that the man is apathetic anyway.

Ray is in extremely good spirits, even offering to carry the heavier pack, as he and Japhy talk about all manner of things. Ray truly admires Japhy, appreciating his conversation and comparing him to archetypal adventurers. He and Japhy discuss haikus as they admire the awe-inspiring scenery around them - trees, birds, flowers and the lake - and struggle to create poetry that is appropriately spontaneous and straightforward. Eventually they come upon a shady area where they wash their hair in and drink from a gushing stream. While Ray is full of energy, Japhy warns that he will soon tire out.

Ray and Japhy continue along on their trek in chapter 9, and Ray is impressed with what he calls the "immortal feel" of the trail and its exquisite beauty. It feels to him that he must have walked in these very woods in the past because they seem so familiar. He and Japhy are no longer speaking; it as if they no longer need to speak to feel connected to each other.

Eventually, the pair reach a beautiful meadow with a pond in it: from here on, Japhy explains, they will have to rely on "ducks" - marker stones placed by other climbers - to know where they are going for the rest of the long journey. While Ray wants to rest there in the gorgeous meadow, Japhy remarks that they are going to an even more deserted place. However, since they are both feeling happy and exhausted, Ray and Japhy rest a bit before beginning the five-mile climb up a pile of boulders. Ray notes the nimble ease with which Japhy climbs the rocks and tries to imitate it, but soon realizes that he can do much better creating his own path. Japhy compares the art of boulder climbing to Zen: "Don't think. Just dance along."

They climb for about three hours, following the ducks left by other climbers, as the creek that has been roaring beside them begins to lessen. The sun begins to redden in the sky and patches of snow appear among the rocks as they ascend. Eventually, the heartened friends climb up the side of a cliff where they reach the plateau in which they intend to camp. As Japhy makes what Ray feels is the most thirst-quenching and satisfying tea he has ever tasted, they discuss the solemn mountains and the huge rock by whose base they are sitting, which Japhy claims has been formed by a glacier. In keeping with the Buddhist philosophy they have been discussing, Ray explains to Japhy his method of praying - for friends and enemies alike - by envisioning their eyes and reciting that they are "equally empty, equally to be loved, equally a coming Buddha." Japhy is impressed; he believes that Ray's only problem is that the world has "vexed" him.

Morley, though, is not back yet, and Ray and Japhy begin to worry about him as dark creeps over the camp. At last, he calls: "Yodelayhee!," from what sounds like far down the mountain. Japhy meditates, eyes open and holding wooden beads, while Ray closes his eyes and falls into meditation. He has the sensation that the three of them are alone in the world and prays for his friends, again admiring Japhy for his simplicity in the midst of complex America. Eventually, the two call out to Morley to reassure him, confident that he is sensible enough to stay where he is for the night, and head back to the camp for supper. Indeed, Ray says, Morley comes back the next day, having slept in the beautiful meadow.

In Chapter 10, After Ray wakes up, he helps get kindling for the huge, warming fire that he and Japhy start. Japhy cooks the bulgur, tea, and chocolate pudding, creating what Ray feels is an incomparably delicious supper that they eat slowly with chopsticks under a vast net of stars. They clean the dishes and Japhy pulls out a star-map, declaring that it is exactly 8:48 p.m. Suddenly, Japhy compliments Ray for "waking him up to the true language of the country," which leads Ray to tell him an anecdote about his experience riding with a trucker. Similarly, Ray continues to admire Japhy's prayerful poise and especially his charity. His companion gives Ray the larger portion of the chocolate pudding, a set of juju beads, and sleeping space closer to the fire; and yet when the protagonist protests, Japhy merely claims that it is a privilege to give things away. Ray remarks that later, the two will continue to exchange small gifts that are often worn-down, more sentimental than gaudy.

As Ray falls asleep, feeling strong and thankful, he muses over Japhy's spirited plainness. He has no need for money; these surroundings, Ray thinks, are greater than anything that money can buy. Ray wakes up cold and damp in the middle of the night, but his dreams are pleasant. In the morning, the duo are also glad to find Morley about two miles below them, unharmed and climbing steadily. Eventually he is close enough to talk to them and begins rambling as usual, and the three men prepare to climb Matterhorn.

Analysis

Despite minor annoyances (as, for example, having to give up his sleeping back due to Morley's forgetfulness), Ray's trip to the base of Matterhorn proves exceptionally fruitful and enjoyable. As a novice to mountaineering, Ray has the unique privilege sharing the trail with others who are not only veteran climbers but also good friends. In keeping with his unconcerned personality, Ray is not nervous about the climb and for the most part enjoys it with reverent appreciation.

The very fact that Ray and his intrepid friends have decided to undergo this journey puts them metaphorically "above" the "flat" and uninspired masses. To attempt to climb a mountain, especially one as formidable and daunting as Matterhorn, at once isolates and glorifies them. There is a certain amount of pride in being, as the hunters call them, "hopeless eccentrics"-in doing something that (as their waitress exclaims) most normal people "wouldn't do if somebody paid [them] a thousand dollars." The trio have effectively solidified their status as rebels. Ray remarks: "Japhy was considered an eccentric around the campus, which is the usual thing for campuses and college people to think whenever a real man appears on the scene - college being nothing but grooming schools for the middle-class non-identity...while the Japhies of the world go prowling in the wilderness to hear the voice crying in the wilderness, to find the ecstasy of the stars, the find the dark mysterious secret of the origin of faceless wonderless crapulous civilization."

These chapters also help to develop Japhy's concept of frugality, largely by contrasting him with Henry Morley. The latter is error-prone and inefficient. His desire to bring unnecessary (and strangely synthesized) items on the trip puts him completely at odds with Japhy, who packs sensibly and wholesomely for the expedition. He carries so little food that Ray is initially concerned that it is not enough, and effectively brings what is only absolutely necessary for their trip. Ironically, Morley's attempts at providing "extra" comfort (as, for example, by bringing an air mattress) lead to discomfort, whereas Japhy's bare materials are superior to luxury items (his bulgur-and-pudding supper proves to be one of the best Ray has ever had).

Chapters 6-10 also clearly begin to showcase Ray's profound respect for, and even idolization of, Japhy Ryder. Before they begin to climb Matterhorn, Ray maintains a degree of disbelief, and even tacit superiority, toward the younger man, as evidenced by the fact that he does not believe Japhy's claim climbing a mountain will rid him of the desire for alcohol but "says nothing." Later, Ray is pleasantly surprised to finds that Japhy was right all along. He is further impressed by Japhy's cooking skills, mountain knowledge and prayerful poise. And the two friends establish an almost spiritual connection when they are walking along contentedly together in perfect silence, as if speaking without words. Soon, Ray thinks to himself that "The world ain't so bad, when you got Japhies."

Ray particularly admires Japhy's strength and masculinity, describing him as "elfin but vigorous," deep chested and broad-shouldered. In fact, Ray is happiest not when he is competing with Japhy but following him, literally and figuratively. He seems enamored with his friend's dominance: when Japhy orders him to carry some bags, Ray remarks that "he was being very serious and leaderly and it pleased me more than anything else." Ray's respect for Japhy is in fact so close to adoration ("I suddenly realized it was a kind of blessing in disguise Morley had forgotten to drain the crankcase...") that it seems, at times, almost homosexual. Considering the confusion over Kerouac's sexual behavior and orientation, the idea is perhaps not so far-fetched. Japhy and Ray, after all, are like grown children and the author reputedly remarked that boys love each other in the way that lovers do.

A final theme present in Chapters 6-10 is the omnipresent drive for spontaneity. Ray and Japhy recognize that the best haikus are sharp, clear, brilliant, and completely impromptu. Furthermore, according to Japhy climbing the mountain requires not forethought and planning but simply a willingness to press ahead, finding footholds as one goes. He tells Ray that "the secret of this kind of climbing...is like Zen. Don't think. Just dance along." Ultimately in-tune to this idea, Ray soon recognizes that he does best not imitating Japhy but rather finding his own path, musing that "you just can't fall when you get into the rhythm of the dance."

Summary

Temporarily abandoning everything except for some food and first aid kits, Morley, Japhy and Ray begin to climb up a long, daunting scree valley. Sore, afraid of falling, and concerned about time, Ray feels his enthusiasm begin to wane. His two companions walk ahead of him - Morley talking to himself and Japhy, without his pants, even farther ahead - but Ray lags behind, cold and afraid, until he finally decides to pass Morley. Again he has the mysterious sensation that he must have taken this journey before.

Finally, Ray reaches a glorious lake at the foot of Matterhorn and, inexplicably optimistic again, asserts that he is ready to climb to the top of the mountain. This time it is Japhy who corrects his naïve notion: "Do you realize that's a thousand feet more?" Yet when Japhy decides to climb to the top - quickly, so he can return to camp before nightfall - Ray is determined to follow. Morley neglects to follows them and in short order Ray begins to feel that he has made a mistake. Unlike the inexhaustible Japhy, he is fatigued and afraid of the height he has reached. He mutters to himself that he should have stayed with Morley and not attempted to climb the rest of the mountain.

At last, the miserable Ray finds a comfortable ledge to rest on, and despite Japhy's prodding refuses to follow him the rest of the way to Matterhorn's peak. Above him, he hears Japhy singing triumphantly as he explores the mountaintop, both incredible and insane. At this point, though, Ray believes that the smartest of them all is Morley, relaxing comfortably near the lake, and he swears the he will never attempt this sort of climb again.

Chapter 12 begins just as Ray has reached the pinnacle of pessimism. He looks up and is astounded to see Japhy bounding and leaping fearlessly down the mountain. At this moment he has a revelation - that "it's impossible to fall off mountains, you fool!" - and imitates his co-climber, screaming back to camp. He tells Japhy that his mountaintop yodeling is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard and that he wishes it could be recorded, but Japhy seriously asserts that such a thing is not meant for those unwilling to climb the mountain themselves. Ray completely changes his mind about mountain climbing and wants to try it again now that he knows that he will not fall.

As they head back down the mountain, Ray follows a deer trail, confident that it will lead him to their watery destination, even though his friends take a different route. Surely enough, he winds up at Japhy's roaring bonfire, and comments on how extraordinarily childlike he feels. Before they begin to descend the valley of boulders, though, Ray and Japhy switch shoes in a mutually beneficial trade: Japhy can now wear the more lightweight sneakers while Ray can protect his blistering feet with Japhy's thick boots. Even so, the journey down is difficult and exhausting, and Ray lashes out angrily at his friends, who are afraid to stop and rest and insist on getting to the car quickly. Soon enough, though, they reach the peaceful meadow, and this time Ray acts as a motivator for his worried friends. As they head down the mountain, they fall into a rhythm; the air warms and the surroundings become filled with animals and plants once again. When they reach the car at last, it turns out that the night had been warm; Morley wasted his effort going back to drain the crankshaft.

Famished, the trio head over to Bridgeport again for a hot meal, where Ray discovers Japhy's weakness: he is mortified of eating at a "bourgeois" restaurant because he feels underdressed, and he is also a penny-pincher who does not want to pay for overpriced meals. Irritated, Ray finally drags him over to the "richer" restaurant, where they settle down to an enormous feast. Afterwards they buy some alcohol in a liquor store, thoroughly shocking the storekeeper and his friend when they tell them they have just climbed Matterhorn.

Ray falls asleep in Morley's car and his friends wake him up as they drop him off at home. When he wakes, happily, the next morning, he finds that the veins in his feet no longer have blood clots; he has worked them out of his system.

In Chapter 13, Ray is alone in his cottage when Princess bikes over and says that she can stay for a while as long as she calls her mother, so they walk over to the pay phone at the local gas station so she can do so. After an hour of erotic play and their usual bath together in the hot tub, Princess leaves, but Japhy and Coughlin, and eventually Alvah, show up and a night of drunken revelry begins. After trekking noisily down the street carrying enormous garden flowers and bursting in on a nervous University of California English professor, the three men return to Ray's cottage and begin to talk.

A large part of the friends' conversation is comprised of half-nonsensical poetry and guitar-song filled with rhyme and Buddhist thought. Japhy wants to start a revolution of Zen Lunacy, which he feels is an ideal that the conformists of America should - but unfortunately do not - understand. Ray and Japhy, especially, indulge in crazy fantasies: they want to create a "floating zendo" for "wandering Bodhisattvas" in which Japhy is a head priest "with a big jar full of crickets," free and unconstrained by the American political and judicial system. Japhy also talks about Hakuyu, a fabled wanderer who meets an ancient old man with the secrets to mind-tripping meditation. Alvah, while somewhat skeptical of these ideas, eventually lets go and also immerses himself in their dreams. The night ends with Ray and Coughlin drunkenly wrestling each other and creating a few holes in the wall.

The omniscient Ray, who is narrating these past events chimes in at the end of the chapter with a fond acceptance of this wild time. According to Ray, there is a sort of "wisdom" to be found in the lifestyles and thoughts of the Zen Lunatics.

Kerouac begins Chapter 14, telling us that Ray, newly inspired, has formed the intention to become a sort of "rucksack wanderer" himself, carrying on his back a pack with all necessities, living in neutrality in a remote location. He notes that his ideal is somewhat different than both Japhy's and Alvah's.

In accordance with this plan, he, Japhy, and Alvah go shopping together, buying clothes and equipment at Goodwill, Salvation Army, and Army Navy stores. Everything that Ray buys is remarkably cheap as well as practical: aluminum pot holders, a used sleeping bag, gloves, multipurpose nylon coverings, a canteen, and cooking utensils, for example. Japhy, true to his charitable nature, also gives Ray some gifts, the last of which is a tablespoon with a twisted handle useful for pulling a pot out of a fire. The protagonist feels remarkably refreshed and happy.

As Chapter 15 begins, Ray, with his rucksack on his back, ambles merrily over to a café where the denizens of "Skid Row" believe he is going uranium hunting. The protagonist plays along, but secretly harbors supercilious notions about these men who think that money is actually valuable. In the scene that follows - unquestionably the novel's darkest to this point - Ray goes to visit his friends Cody and Rosie (first introduced at the poetry reading in Chapter 2) only to find that Rosie looks emaciated and terrified, and has tried unsuccessfully to slit her wrists with a dull knife. According to Cody, she wrote out a list of all of her friends' sins and tried to flush it down the toilet at work. Unfortunately, she succeeded only in backing up the plumbing, and became convinced that the sanitation worker who fetched the list was actually a policeman and that soon they would all be arrested. Cody asks Ray to watch Rosie for him while he works that night, but Ray is irritated and protests that he "was planning on having fun tonight." Cody retorts that he needs to learn some responsibility.

At a nearby cafeteria, the paranoid Rosie - convinced that the cops are going to arrest her and her friends and subsequently take over the world - argues vehemently with Ray, who tries in frustration to convince her not only that she is delusional but also that the world is illusory. Eventually she seems to recover and begins to eat and talk in a semi-normal way. But later that night, after Cody returns and Ray leaves, she breaks the skylight in order to get jagged glass to cut herself with. When her shocked neighbors call the police, she commits suicide by jumping out of a sixth story window. At this point, Ray decides to leave the city, continuing to think that Rosie's problems would have been solved if she only knew the world's true nature.

Analysis

Like the chapters before it, this part of Kerouac's novel is filled with a sort of spirited hope that originates in large part from overcoming fear in favor of spontaneity. Chapter 12 holds one of the most important ideas in The Dharma Bums. The first sentence of the chapter is short, terse, and thoroughly negative: Ray complains about his decision to follow Japhy up to Matterhorn, feeling foolish and miserable. But the very next sentence is astoundingly different in, tone, style, and content. Ray says that

"suddenly everything was just like jazz...I looked up and saw Japhy running down the mountain in huge twenty-foot leaps, running, leaping, landing with a great drive of his booted heels...and in that flash I realized it's impossible to fall off mountains you fool and with a yodel of my own I suddenly got up and began running down the mountain...." The protagonist has found his "rhythm" again; he is miraculously invigorated. Kerouac's rushing and rambling sentence mimics both Ray's giddy rush of euphoria and his swift descent down the mountain, ending, appropriately, when Ray hits the ground.

Yet it is impossible to ignore how quickly Ray's mood oscillates during these chapters. As mentioned above, his cataclysmic invigoration occurs within the span of one sentence. When he is huddled near the top of Matterhorn, he can think only of coming down; when he descends the mountain, he wants nothing more than to go back up. Even Ray takes a somewhat objective perspective on his own emotions as when he says, for example, that "Whether you can fall off a mountain or not I don't know, but I had learned that you can't. That was the way it struck me." And during the descent back to the car, Ray's mood shifts rapidly from happiness to weariness and back again so swiftly that the reader cannot help but see flaws in his "perfect" lifestyle. What is undeniably true, however, is that the emotions Ray feels, however inconsistent, are remarkably pure and intense.

In these chapters there exists for the first time a clear disavowal of Dharmic principles in favor of practicality. When huddled on the ledge on Matterhorn, fatigued, cold, and frustrated, Ray calls his own idol Japhy a "damn mountain goat," and thinks that inspiring Zen quotes such as "when you get to the top of a mountain, keep climbing" are nothing more than "cute poetry." Furthermore, Ray becomes irritated when Japhy refuses to eat at the better of two restaurants. He muses, with a hint of scorn, that "this little tough guy who wasn't afraid of anything and could ramble around mountains for weeks alone and run down mountains, was afraid of going into a restaurant because the people in it were too well dressed." Ray seems to have a sort of implicit understanding that being a Dharma Bum is sometimes overly idealistic.

Kerouac, too, portrays Ray as impractical, callous and unfeeling in Chapter 15 - which, with its inclusion of Rosie's suicide, is the darkest in the novel. Any sympathetic reader would agree that Ray's attitude - he would rather "have fun" than take care of his suicidal friend - is heinously selfish. Furthermore, his advice (however well-meaning) that her cares are nothing more than part of a void soullessly trivializes the concerns that are visibly ruining her. After Rosie's death, Ray seems to feel neither guilt nor sadness, but rather condescension: "And if she had only listened to me..." In many senses, the reader is made to understand his attitude as unforgivable. Such an attitude dulls the glitter of Dharma that is portrayed so favorably and idealistically in other chapters.

This chapter also includes a brief scene in which Ray and Princess partake in yabyum. While the act itself is uneventful, Ray quips very tellingly that "Poor Princess...meant every word she said [about being a Bodhisattva]." This single line carries with it the weighty insinuation that while Princess may take her Buddhist notions seriously but that Ray and his friends do not. This is further evidence that Japhy and his friends have misogynistic tendencies, humoring women in order to take advantage of them.

Summary

Ray and Japhy have a somewhat solemn dinner in Chinatown and then see a group of black preachers lecturing to Chinese families and bums. Ray believes that one particularly effusive woman would make a wonderful preacher were it not for her habit of spitting every few minutes. Japhy, however, is not impressed with her doctrine; unlike Ray, he does not believe that Christianity and Buddhism are - like everything else - "the same." The woman takes special interest in the pair of friends, especially Ray, and comes over to talk to them personally. Just across the street, a group of Chinese youth are working on building a Buddhist temple.

Cody, who had been living at Rosie's place, has now moved back with his family. Ray visits his distraught friend for a few days and agrees to help him pray for her so that - according to Cody - she can get into purgatory instead of hell. In the daytime, Ray jots down the rhyming poems that Cody's children recite. Unfortunately, he says later, he also catches a cold from them that will plague him during his journey.

Finally, it is time to leave; Ray is waiting to sneak onto an evening freight train, but is warned by the switchman that he will be found and thrown off at the town of Watsonville. Ray sneaks aboard and curls up in his sleeping bag, then carefully hides in the weeds until he can sneak on the train again. He does not wake up until it arrives in L.A., a city he finds detestably hot and smog-filled. While he waits for another train to Arizona, he meets an intriguing middle-aged bum who claims to have cured arthritis by standing on his head for three minutes every day. (The narrator admits that he tried this, and swears that it cured his thrombophlebitis).

The Zipper finally arrives, but after Ray climbs on he realizes with horror that there is no entrance for him. By the time he untangles himself from the catwalk on the top of the train it is going too fast for him to jump off. But when he lets go, he remains unharmed - although stranded in an undesirable industrial city all night. Finally he buys a cheap bus ticket to Riverside, but notices that police eye him and his rucksack suspiciously. He pines for the calmness of his mountainside rests with Japhy.

Chapter 17 opens with Ray feeling optimistic about camping out in Riverside, where the air is cleaner, but a man warns him that the police are fierce in this city and will take him in if he tries. Sore and suffering from his cold, Ray knows that he has no choice but to do it anyway. He feels increasingly scornful toward the cops in their shiny cars and the conforming "sheep" that passively follow their orders.

Ray fights his way through the thickets of the highway woods and makes his way to the dried river-bottom. There, he lights a small fire, sets up his sleeping bag on a bed of leaves and bamboo joints, and stands on his head to try and relieve his sinus pain, feeling rather sad. Ignoring the roar of traffic, he eats the food he bought earlier in the day and then begins to pray for his own well-being, for those celebrating the Christmas season, and for Rosie. In spite of his discomfort, he determines that this is the most satisfying and valuable existence he can be living, and wakes up rejuvenated and ready to hitchhike 3,000 miles to Rocky Mount, North Carolina, to visit his mother.

Chapter 18 covers Ray's entire journey from Riverside, California to his home in Rocky Mount; along the way, he meets several colorful characters. After hitchhiking to Beaumont, Ray gets a ride from a Mexican drunkard named Jaimy who makes Ray buy him wine in exchange for a trip to Mexicali, Mexico, but then deserts him before they cross the border. Changing his plans, Ray enters Mexico on foot, only to be yelled at almost immediately for urinating on a man's property. The protagonist is angry at first, but then realizes that he has ruined the spot where the man sits at night next to a fire, and feels guilty. Shortly thereafter, he runs into a Chinese Mexican deaf-mute who warns him, with vehement hand gestures, against sleeping outside. Ray begrudgingly admits to himself that the beggar is right: being homeless is, unfortunately, dangerous.

Ray thoroughly enjoys himself, indulging in the tastes and sights of the vibrantly animated city of Mexicali. He is stopped at the border, though, by suspicious officials who believe that he is hiding drugs in his rucksack. On top of that, he finds out that the Zipper does not run through El Centro after arriving there by bus. Instead, he returns to Mexicali with an amiable Midwestern trucker named Beaudry, where they visit saloons and a brothel before driving to Tuscon. Much to Beaudry's surprise, Ray manages to cook an amazing steak over a self-kindled fire, which leads him to muse over the free-spirited glamor of the bum's life. In fact, despite his fear of being caught and losing his job, Beaudry offers to drive Ray all the way to Ohio, which is much closer to his ultimate destination. As they whiz across the United States, sharing anecdotes and hearty meals, Ray and Beaudry become friends, and they part sorrowfully.

Ray finishes up his journey through this colder and snowier area by bus and on foot to find his mother washing the dishes, just as he anticipated in Chapter 17. He greets and feeds his dog, Bob, and then enters the house where he is welcomed by his mother, sister, brother-in-law and nephew, "home again" at last.

On to Chapter 19, in which Ray elects to sleep not inside near the fire (as his family urges) but rather on the back porch, where he leaves all of the windows open and curls up in his sleeping bag. After everyone has gone to sleep, he sneaks outside, followed by Bob and some other stray dogs, to a forest that he had made a path in last year. The path, it turns out, still exists, and Ray returns to a familiar pine tree, where he meditates for an hour in complete peace: everything is utterly still and silent for miles around. Finally, he returns to the house, warms himself, and goes to sleep.

The next night is Christmas Eve; Ray enjoys the ceremonial masses being broadcast on television, but believes that the scene of his sister and brother-in-law laying out presents for their young son is even more glorious than all the pomp of the church. Late at night, he reads some paradoxical Biblical passages, relating them in his mind to his own Buddhist ideas.

The next week, Ray's mother is attending a funeral and his siblings are working, so is he is alone in the house. He occupies his time in the woods reading, studying, and meditating, returning at night to cook dinner for the family. He creates poetry and prayers, and also shoots basketball using a hoop he sets up. At one point, he feels extremely depressed and throws himself to the ground, but then believes he has come to the revelation that "all the dead," including Rosie and his father, already know: "Believe that the world is an ethereal flower, and ye live." The chapter ends with Ray feeding his cat.

Chapter 20 opens in late January. Ray feels that all of his meditating is beginning to "bear fruit." He has sincere and exuberant faith in the rightness of the universe, and feels no concern for the illusory realm of earth and flesh. In his ecstasy he wants to write to the quiet and modest Warren Coughlin, a very different character than Japhy, Alvah, or himself. As February comes and the weather warms, Ray continues to dream and meditate about oneness and emptiness.

Nevertheless, the narrator cannot completely distance himself from reality: his brother-in-law is annoyed with his idleness, and very few people-with the exception of one old man at the bar-seem to understand or support his lifestyle. Ray, though, does not care in the least about others' opinions, and also believes that everyone is merely jealous of him.

Chapter 21 follows as the weather begins to warm during springtime. Ray continues to meditate outside under the trees. He interacts with his young nephew Lou, creating spontaneous poetry; sometimes, he simply enjoys himself, thinking of nothing. Eventually, Ray begins to have visions and strange dreams, as, for example when he dreams that he refuses to help his mother haul suitcases of gray meat. In real life, he irritates his family by refusing to go for drives with them on Sundays and taking Bob the dog outside without a leash. More practically, though, he signs up to be a summer fire lookout on Desolation Peak in the Cascade Mountains in Washington, just as Japhy suggested earlier in the book.

Ray begins to read meanings into the croakings of frogs and the way that he loses - and then finds - his juju beads. In a flash of insight, he suddenly feels that he really understands that "everything is empty:" that all things are ephemeral, and that it is paradoxical for all tangible things to be comprised of tiny, untouchable atoms. When he tries to explain this to his family, however, Ray is met with scorn and derision. Nevertheless, Ray is ecstatic and feels that he has become a Buddha at last, especially when his visions continue. In one of them, he sees the vision of Dipankara Buddha, a silent figure in a field of flowers, accompanied by the word "Colyalcolor." Furthermore, when his mother becomes increasingly ill, he has a vision of a particular type of rubbing medicine and small white flowers, identical to the ones in the house. After he moves the flowers outside and gives his mother the medicine, she recovers; it turns out that she was allergic to them. Although no one is particularly impressed, Ray claims that he is not impressed either, and that righteousness is the ultimate sin. After this "miracle," Ray leaves his family at last to go back to California.

Analysis

Chapters 16-21 cover the winter and spring in which Ray travels from California to North Carolina to stay with his family. The protagonist's intention to hitchhike 3,000 miles across the country to his home in inserted with abrupt matter-of-factness at the end of Chapter 15. This stylistic choice mimics the style Kerouac employs in the first sentence of the book about "hopping a freight train" in that it is jarringly random and unjustified to the reader, but perfectly natural to Ray as a free-spirited Dharma Bum.

One of the key aspects of Ray's journey back east is his ability to quickly become friends with those he meets on the road. When Ray meets Beaudry, for example, the two visit Mexicali together and enjoy themselves as old friends would, even though they have just met and despite the fact that they will never see each other again. The underlying theme is that things do not have to be permanent to be valuable. Ray's actions also suggest that - in keeping with the prayer he taught Japhy as they were climbing Matterhorn - Ray genuinely believes that everyone is "equally a coming Buddha." One of his explicit thoughts is that "people have good hearts whether or not they live like Dharma Bums."

Ray's equal compassion for all people extends to the fact that he is unafraid to dabble with Christianity, however impersonally. When home with his family on Christmas Eve, he watches the evening masses not with scorn but rather with detached delight, and when he is sleeping in Riverside he makes sure to pray for those celebrating Christmas. In this sense, Ray actually seems to have a deeper understanding of Buddhism than Japhy does; ironically, his orthodox Buddhist beliefs lead him to be myopic and somewhat anti-Christian. Ray truly appreciates the lecturing of the black preacher-woman that he and Japhy meet after their dinner in Chinatown in Chapter 16; he believes that her "new field" is nothing more than "Nirvana by any other name." He tries futilely to explain to Japhy that "there were things I wanted to tell Rosie and I felt suppressed by this schism we have about separating Buddhism from Christianity, East from West, what the hell differences does it make?" Ray is not guilty of hypocrisy when he asserts, at the end of Chapter 21, that the worst sin is righteousness.

What ultimately leads Ray to the conviction that everyone's religion is equally valid and that all are worthy of compassion is his understanding of the world as an absurd "void" in which differences are trivial and effectively meaningless. He spends a long time meditating on this while he is home with his family and eventually feels that he has finally begun to understand it: "Believe that the world is an ethereal flower, and ye live." In such a bizarre world, seriousness is ineffectual and turned on its head. Ray's driver Beaudry vaguely grasps the value of Ray's strange existence: "Here I am killin myself drivin this rig back and forth from Ohio to L.A. and I make more money than you ever had in your whole life as a hobo, but you're the one who enjoys life and not only that but you do it without workin or a whole lot of money. Now who's smart, you or me?" The idea of "turning reality on its head" is also literalized in Ray's encounter with the once-arthritic bum on the train who advises that Ray "just stand on [his] head three minutes a day, or mebbe five minutes." As absurd as it seems, Ray "vows to take his advice because he is Buddha" and finds that it is actually invaluable in curing his phlebitis. This scene is actually based off of a true encounter in Jack Kerouac's life. After meeting "the Buddha," Kerouac would frequently perform headstands, even in the company of others.

Unfortunately, though, most of the people in the world do not understand Ray's conception of it. One of the major themes of these chapters is Ray's "crucifixion" of sorts - his banishment and denigration by "normal" world forces - that lends his journey a bluesy feel. In many ways the world is against him: the man whose property he urinates on; his family; the police. He remarks mournfully that "everything was far away from the easy purity of being with Japhy Ryder in that high rock camp under peaceful singing stars," and that "either side of the border, either way you slice the boloney, a homeless man is in hot water." Ray also claims that he is a "friend" of dogs, probably because he shares their characteristic of innocent silliness and enthusiasm for life. Thus, when his brother forces him to keep his dog Bob on a chain, it is personally painful. Metaphorically, the chain represents an unforgiving and misunderstanding world, too biased and "serious" to understand Ray's joyful message.

Chapter 22

Japhy, who is living in a shack behind Sean Monahan's house, is preparing to go to Japan where he will study under a Master in a monastery. But "in the meantime," he has written a letter to Ray enticing him to visit for a night of wine, women and sensory revelry. Thus begins another of Ray's incredible cross-country journeys, which is more difficult now after such a peaceful and sedentary spring. He gets lost in Greenville, South Carolina, and is forced to stay in a hotel in Georgia because the police are so suspicious of him. After hitching a harrowing ride with a drunken Southerner, the narrator resigns to take a bus out west in frustration.

When Ray reaches El Paso, Texas, he climbs up an arroyo - a dried riverbed - and feels enormously free, solitary, and contented. He has everything he needs, with a beautiful view of Mexico as a bonus. He resolves to come back to this blissful place the next night after visiting the Mexican city of Juàrez. Although the day starts out tamely enough, he ultimately ends up getting very drunk and going back to the dwelling place of a group of rowdy Mexican Apaches. One of them is a homosexual man who desperately wants to accompany Ray to California. Ultimately, the protagonist gets tried and manages to drag himself away, back to the quiet comfort of his arroyo, letting his uncomfortable night fade like a bad dream. There, he feels the true peace of impenetrable silence.

In Chapter 23, Ray hitches a ride to Las Cruces, New Mexico, where he rests contentedly for a while under a tree before a man offers him two dollars an hour to help him move furniture; Ray obliges and uses the money to buy himself dinner. Then a very fortunate thing happens: a brash, talkative Texan, with a young Mexican couple and their infant in tow, offers the narrator a ride all the way to Los Angeles in exchange for the little money that has. The poor Mexican couple are heart-wrenchingly hopeful when Ray talks about Buddhism; it seems to them a wonderful thing to be able to "come back and try again" at life. Ray secretly thinks that the driver, whose stories are so tremendously aggressive that they must be lies, should definitely live his life over.

In L.A. at last, Ray stops for a cheap breakfast before making his way to the railroad yards, where he - a former brakeman himself - chats amiably with the workers. Unfortunately, though, a policeman shoes him away, where he waits angrily until he can catch a freight train (thoroughly befuddling the officer when he climbs on!) Ultimately, Ray catches the Midnight Ghost to San Francisco, sleeping as he always does in a remarkably precarious position. As he drifts into and out of sleep, he recognizes how "ghostly" the trip actually is. By the time he wakes up, he finds himself is in San Francisco.

The narrator begins Chapter 24 by claiming that if the Dharma Bums ever become "domesticated," they will be like Sean Monahan. Ray describes Monahan's lifestyle with admiration. He is a carpenter who lives a thrifty lifestyle with his free-spirited and resourceful housewife, Christine, and their two daughters. His house - which, like Japhy's, is filled with Oriental objects - is often the location of big communal potluck dinners followed by fireside folksong serenades.

While Ray waits for Japhy to come home from his job in Sausalito, he visits the shack in which he will be living behind Monahan's house. Excited by the beautiful trees and flowers around him, Ray climbs the steep hill to Japhy's little hovel and again marvels at the tasteful efficiency and simplicity of his lifestyle. His room is wallpapered in burlap, stocked with simple foods, decorated with handpicked flowers, silk paintings and his own handwritten poems, and furnished with straw mats and orange crates.

Eventually, Ray buys some beans and cooks them in preparation for his friend's return. The sky darkens and he admires the view from the top of the hill, which overlooks "a roaring sea of trees." Japhy, weary from work, is extremely appreciative of the dinner and soon begins to reminisce about his exciting, solitary adventures as a fire lookout, assuring Ray that he will love the job. He tells animatedly of conversing with other lookouts on a radio, learning navigation by the night sky, and spotting various animals. The several anecdotes he tells - about, among other things, ladybug infestations, bear encounters, and dangerous lightning storms - portray Desolation Peak as thrillingly untamed.

Now, Ray chimes in with what he has learned during his meditations; he has been itching for Japhy's understanding and support for many weeks. It seems, though, that Ray's companion has changed in more ways than one; not only does he look, in the narrator's opinion, more serious and sadder, but encouraging words only depress him. Japhy even admits that he might be tired of being an impoverished bachelor. Upset and exhausted, he retreats to sleep as Ray settles down outside, praying for Japhy before bed. In the morning, though, Japhy is as cheerful as ever, banging on a frying pan and calling Ray in for pancakes. He has renewed his faith in the Dharma Bum lifestyle.

In Chapter 25, after they eat Japhy's pancakes, the duo go off together to work on Japhy's woodcutting job, as decided in Chapter 24. Japhy teaches Ray the mechanics of axe-wielding; and he finds that he has a knack for it and finds it satisfying.

Some time later, Christine Monahan calls the men in for a large, satisfying lunch, complete with red wine and homemade biscuits. As they flip through Sean's collection of books, Japhy tells Ray a series of Buddhist anecdotes, all of which involve a very paradoxical or even silly result that is counterintuitive to expectation. In one story, for example, a disciple, hoping to answer a tough riddle he has been working on, returns to his Master - who then knocks him into a puddle of mud! The disciple laughs and seems to understand that, as Japhy puts it, "'twasn't by words he was enlightened, but by that great healthy push off the porch." Japhy also talks about a particular Chinese cartoon in which an ambitious young man goes off to search for a bull, only to realize that he is happier abandoning it. After this discussion Ray comments that while he is happiest being still and inactive, Japhy is most satisfied when he is always moving; they are "two strange dissimilar monks on the same path."

Later that night there is a big party at Sean Monahan's, during which three of the couples strip completely and then dance, tamely, around the parlor. Ray and his new acquaintance, the serious and likable Bud Diefendorf, sit and watch them, suppressing their lust, until everyone goes to sleep. The next morning, even more people show up - among them Princess, Alvah, and Warren Coughlin - and everyone eats hamburgers together. According to the protagonist, these parties seem wild but area actually quite demure. During them, Ray always sneaks off alone and has wonderful, if crazy, thoughts and visions - personifying tree leaves and dreaming of the deceased Rosie. He becomes "acquainted" with a hummingbird, ants, and flowers, unashamed of his lazy nature. The socialite Japhy, on the other hand, has a few lovers; his favorite is Psyche, a beautiful girl who he brings on a beach trip along with Ray and Sean. Although she does not seem to have a particularly affinity for Buddhist thought, Japhy does not care.

Ray buys an exorbitant amount of food with some of his leftover money and they use it to feed a group of hungry friends. In fact, the protagonist is quite the hospitable figure, always serving food to others as he befuddles them with his perplexing talk. When asked why the sky is blue, for example, Ray replies, "The sky is blue because you wanta know why the sky is blue." In the last scene, Ray scares a band of young children who have been throwing rocks at the shack, thinking it is abandoned, by pretending he is a "ghost."

Analysis

It is possible to look at Chapters 22-25 in the context of Ray's growing understanding of Buddhism and his deeper conception of the world as a meaningless void. Having spent months meditating, Ray has emerged from North Carolina even more firmly convinced in the "nothingness" of the material world.

One of Kerouac's major tropes in this section of the book is his focus on transience and dreams. Stylistically, Ray's adventures - be they bumming rides or partying - continue to bleed together into long strings of trivial events. But the focus on the "dreaminess" of existence also becomes more real for the protagonist. Ray returns to his arroyo after a night of party-overkill in Mexicali and convinces himself that his undesirable experiences were nothing more than bad dreams. He uses similar diction to describe his trip on the Midnight Ghost: "The whole trip had been as swift and enlightening as a dream." In Ray's mind, figures and events seem to appear and fall away like visions. In this sense, the narrator seems to have a more mature understanding of transience and absurdity in comparison to the first part of the book.

That is why it is particularly strange that Japhy - once Ray's Buddhist idol, filled with wisdom during their trip to Matterhorn - suddenly seems weary and beaten. Disillusioned with his beliefs, he refuses to listen to Ray's conception of the void and even admits that "I ain't a happy little sage no mo' and I'm tired." Japhy nearly decides to submit to the Dharma Bums' ultimate "enemy," conformity - to settle down with a house and a wife. But in this case, Japhy's depression is nothing more than a fickle phrase, just as Ray's bouts of frustration and sadness were during the mountain-climbing expedition. He is back to himself the very next morning after Ray meets him.

Both Japhy and Ray seem to understand the concept of the absurd void, and the importance of silliness, as evidenced not only by their frequent partying but by their Chapter 25 discussion of various Buddhist teachings. In all of the stories that Japhy relates to Ray, a seemingly serious question is (surprisingly) answered with preposterous nonsense. From the story of a man who experienced Enlightenment after hearing that Buddha was a "turd" to the Ten Oxherding pictures ("the Bulls") that laud revelry over ambition, these parables coincide directly with Ray's understanding of the void as something full of humor because it is preposterous and meaninglessness.

Ray continues to marvel at the abstemious lifestyles of Japhy and Sean. Japhy takes up only one room of Sean's little three-room shack and Ray admires it as lavish although it is frugal. He find that Japhy's way of living is "beautifully simple...neat, sensible, [and] strangely rich without a cent having been spent on decoration." Ray also glorifies Sean, who requires guests to bring food money to his potluck parties and saves his money by living inexpensively, in the same way.

The protagonist takes seriously this believe in the pointlessness of indulging in "immaterial" fleshly pleasures. He and Bud Diefendorf sit chastely in the corner together as his friends enjoy the company of party girls. They compare Sean, Japhy, and Whitey Jones to "young monks...still full of fire and evil [who] still have a lot to learn." And yet Ray is not completely able to distance himself from the cares of his world and the desires of his body. His diction betrays him as he refers to Psyche's "tender little body and face" and the "well stacked nymphs" who dance before him.

Summary

A big party is planned at Sean Monahan's before Japhy leaves for Japan, but neither Ray nor Japhy is particularly looking forward to it because they are tired of partying. During the planning period, though, Japhy's sister Rhoda shows up with her fiancé, a well-dressed Chicago man; Japhy is invited to the reception after the wedding. This "first meeting" is scandalously improper: Japhy and Rhoda talk about her future husband's sexual prowess and Japhy purposefully overloads the kerosene stove so that it explodes inside. Japhy tells Ray that he thinks the marriage will not last because Rhoda is too wild for this middle-class man; he thinks that "he oughta marry her" instead.

Seeing Rhoda and her husband-to-be ignites in Ray some feelings of loneliness because he does not have his own girlfriend. Despite his best efforts, the protagonist cannot completely banish lustful thoughts from his mind - especially with so many women around Sean's house all the time. He recalls one night when he was very close to being intimate with a beautiful girl, only to be interrupted by Sean and Joe Mahoney. He also remembers times when he will close his eyes in parties and see pure white emptiness, when he does not feel lust.

At the end of the chapter, Ray thinks of Japhy: his hardboiled insistence on keeping the axes sharp and the kerosene lamps functioning, his wonderful homemade Chinese dinners, and his occasional frustration at not being able to find Ray, who often goes outside and meditates. Once, Ray says, he was so still during meditation that two mosquitoes landed on each of his cheeks, but left without biting him.

Chapter 27 opens a few days before Japhy's farewell party. He and Ray get into a fight. They head to Skid Row to get cheap haircuts and clothing when Ray suddenly feels a strong urge to drink. Feeling very happy and optimistic, Ray buys some alcohol and shares some with his friend. Japhy, though, warns Ray not to drink too much because they are going to a lecture and discussion at the Buddhist Center after shopping. Ray could care less about the meeting, though, despite the fact that everyone is expecting him; and only wants to get intoxicated; he gets angry when Japhy comments that he drinks too much.

As they continue shopping, Ray buys even more alcohol, in spite of the fact that his friend is disappointed and frustrated with him and his lack of adherence to true enlightenment. Instead, he keeps trying to force Japhy to drink as well, even claiming that Japhy could not have written a poem he composed without wine. In a final, stubborn gesture, Ray ultimately stays at Alvah's college and further inebriates himself rather than going to the Buddhist lecture: he is determined not to get sick so he can "prove something to Japhy."

The chapter ends with a very surprising twist: when Japhy returns, he is drunk, and admits that alcohol seemed to be the focus of the meeting. Ray claims that after his companion acknowledges the value of his lifestyle, they never fight again.

Chapter 28 focuses on Japhy's farewell party. At first, Ray is unenthusiastic about it, but he loosens up after drinking some wine.

Ray describes the party in detail. Inside, where he spends most of his time, girls are dancing to jazz music while he and his friends use cans as percussion instruments. Outside near the fire, Rheinhold Cacoethes - the man who thinks Ray drinks too much, according to Japhy in Chapter 27 - comes to the conclusion that he is the only "real" poet left in the country. When someone mentions Ray, he is a bit scornful. Meanwhile, couples sneak up to the hill together to share kisses and serenades.

Many interesting people show up at the party. Henry Morley arrives, as much an incomprehensible enigma as ever, but soon leaves as no one will talk to him except Japhy and Ray. Another notable guest is Japhy's father, an extremely wild and energetic man who dances madly with girls in the living room; Japhy's parents are separated. All of Japhy's girlfriends - Polly, Princess and Psyche - are there, but Ray cannot receive affection from any of them. Psyche and Japhy, it turns out, have gotten into a fight, but when she tries to storm away from him her car gets caught in a rut. The legendary and cool-headed Arthur Whane hangs around the party "meeting as many people as possible." He is calm and unfazed even when talking to Alvah and George, who, like Japhy, are wandering around naked.

At the end of the night, most of the men are sleeping in sleeping bags inside the shack; Ray, as usual, is outside, feeling fortunate. At Bud's request, Ray goes to look for girls at the main part of the Monahan house, but everyone is asleep or has left. Drunk, Ray shouts into the lightening sky even as he begins to feel angst about the brevity and superficiality of human life.

Chapter 29 opens on the third day of the party as Ray and Japhy sneak away to their California trails. Japhy is heartened as he plans future hikes and expresses his intention to write a continuous poem on a scroll, filled with valuable information. As they climb higher, Japhy even fantasizes about setting up a "tribe" in the hills of California and creating "the Dharma Press" for the detestable public.

Ray is more solemn and forgiving of the public; he recognizes the unjust suffering in the world and wonders why God-or Tathagata-created a world full of pain. He believes that death is a reward. Japhy and Ray also disagree about Christ: Japhy is a fervent Buddhist who is scornful of Christianity, but Ray admires Christ's teachings of love.

The conversation shifts to Rol Sturlson of Chapter 3, who is currently in Japan, and then Japhy's future in the East. He believes that "East'll meet West anyway," dreaming of a rucksack revolution, as they trek through the rustic Marin country that eventually leads to a thick redwood forest. Japhy complains that the people sponsoring his trip to Japan do not truly understand the raw essence of the trip, which he is thoroughly looking forward to; nevertheless, he will miss California.

After hiking up largely unknown trails for a while, the two companions stop in an amphitheater they find near the highway, which, Japhy thinks, is as empty and gladdening as Ray's future destination: Desolation Peak. Ultimately, they end up at Potrero Meadows camp-empty since it is not yet the weekend - and sit down to a delicious supper of pea soup mixed with bacon, along with fresh-picked mushrooms in rice. That night, Ray dreams that Japhy will become a tough, enlightened Chinese hobo in the future.

Subsisting on efficient, high-energy foods that Japhy packed, the duo hike to the beautiful Laura Dell camp and then onward via a grueling, hilly trek to the beach, where they buy wine and enjoy the coastline. Japhy is certain that "something good" will come out of their peacefully euphoric existence, but is becoming increasingly sad about leaving California behind.

In Chapter 30, Ray and Japhy begin to trek back to Sean Monahan's. Their route is extremely variable - sometimes smooth and paradisiacal, at other times steep and unforgiving - and Ray compares it to life. And yet despite Japhy's reassurances, the only thing that the sugar-starved, exhausted narrator can think about is how much he wants a Hershey bar.

By the time they arrive back at the shack, Ray is weary and only wants to sleep, but Japhy insists on going to the supermarket for dinner despite his fatigue. Along with the groceries, he brings Ray Hershey bars and a bottle of his favorite wine. It is Japhy's last night in California, and a sorrow weights the atmosphere in the little shack. A bit later, the Monahans come up the hill to say farewell to their friend. The scene reminds Ray of Buddha's sorrowful departure from his family.

The next morning, Ray gives Japhy a going-away present, which he accepts wordlessly: a tiny piece of paper on which he has printed "May You Use the Diamondcutter of Mercy." Psyche, meanwhile, breaks down and forgives Japhy; they have one more passionate lovemaking session before she has to be literally thrown off the boat. Everyone is sad, but despite Warren Coughlin's prediction that Japhy will never be seen again, Ray has faith that he will come back to visit the friends he loves.

Analysis

Chapters 26-30 reveal additional information about the characters of Ray and Japhy. In some ways, they are extremely different people, but it is clear that they truly value each other's company. The sheer number of people sad to see Japhy leaving suggests that his life really does have the sort of worth that Ray has been professing for the Dharma Bum lifestyle throughout the novel.

One of the primary differences between Ray and Japhy lies in their interpretation of Buddhism. Throughout the novel, Ray has proven that he is a compassionate soul who really does believe that everything is essentially "the same." Here again the two friends get into an argument about Christianity. Japhy remains scornful of the religion and insults Ray's opinion of it: "Oh, don't start preaching Christianity to me." In many ways, though, it is unsurprising that Ray finds Christianity valid. According to the protagonist, Christ-like himself-was "all about love." And Christ, like Ray, was also misunderstood and treated poorly by many people in the world. In essence, he represents a sort of archetypal "Dharma Bum." For this reason, it is very interesting that Ray's farewell gift to Japhy asks him to use "the Diamondcutter of Mercy," considering that Ray is actually probably the more "merciful" of the two. Of course, it has been shown that Ray is particularly fond of Japhy's charitable nature and has learned much from him, which may explain his cryptic message.

Another contrast between Ray and Japhy's life is the recurrent theme of sexuality. At this point it is clear that both Bud and Ray do have some sort of desire for womanly contact; it is Bud, after all, who suggests that those still awake late into the night at Monahan's party "go down see how many gals are left!" Ray's problem is cast into a new light as he actually tries to secure himself a female companion. He comments that "I saw [a girl at Monahan's] was lonely because Psyche was there and Japhy wasn't hers so I want over to grab her by the waist but she looked at me with such fear I didn't do anything. She seemed to be terrified of me." Thus, while Japhy has more women than he can handle, Ray is stuck without anyone. That Ray's frustrated jealousy of Japhy does not preclude their friendship reveals something about his character.

Chapter 27, as seen from the omniscient eyes of the reader, is also a bit dark despite all of its humor. Ray's alcoholism, which other characters (include Japhy and Cacoethes) notice, is probably a reflection of Jack Kerouac's own chronic drinking problems. Alcohol, for which Ray reports having an "overwhelming urge," turns him into a boisterous and irresponsible person who carelessly ignores Japhy's reasonable request that he stop. Furthermore, Ray drinks copiously in order to impress Japhy: "I felt sad and drank too much and was dizzy. But I was determined not to pass out and stick it out and prove something to Japhy." Especially considering Kerouac's alcohol-related death, this chapter is particularly revealing and emotional.

A final and very interesting point to be made revolves around Ray's surprising and insatiable desire for a Hershey bar as he and Japhy head back to their houses from the beach. Hershey bars, being very standard pieces of chocolate, are almost certainly far too "bourgeois" for true Dharma Bums. And yet the concept of pragmatism comes into play: because Ray wants a Hershey bar, it is "okay" that he wants a Hershey bar. Most importantly, Japhy remembers his friend's request and honors it, despite the fact that he has always been vehemently opposed to such products. Thus the simple gesture of buying a candy bar becomes a symbol of the friendship that will continue to endure between Ray and Japhy.

Summary

In Chapter 31, Ray bids adieu to Christine Monahan and begins yet another long journey, this time to Washington for his fire lookout job. His trip is surprisingly easy, as he meets many people willing to give him rides. At Cloverdale, he buys food for the trip and feels a twinge of nostalgia for Japhy, who was very serious about, of all things, food - unlike the rest of the crazy and dangerous world. A lonesome farmer drives him all the way to Crescent City, talking all the way, where he buys Ray a large and satisfying dinner. He also buys him breakfast in the morning.

Feeling free, Ray begins to walk on the wrong side of the road for no real reason. But this proves to be a wonderful hitchhiking technique, as it somehow increases the number of people willing to give him rides. Ray is picked up by a curious gold miner, a used-car dealer, and finally a garrulous logger boy. He spends the night in Eugene and in the morning notices that he can see the formidable Cascade Range in the distance.

The rest of the trip also goes surprisingly smoothly as Ray bums rides off of a panoply of interesting people. Before he boards the ferry to Seattle, he charitably gives his last driver some of his food. Feeling lyrical, he notes that as he approaches the mountains he can not only "think" them, but "feel" them; he can understand their awesome power in the way that Japhy intended him to. After a brief Goodwill shopping trip he continues onward toward the magnificent and terrifying peaks; soon all of his new drivers are true mountain-dwellers. Between the walls of cliffs, Ray can no longer see the peaks at all, but he is "beginning to feel them more."

In Chapter 32, Ray gets his final ride from a wrangler who roars up to the Ranger Station, almost getting the narrator into trouble for speeding on government property. Suddenly Ray realizes that he is not "free" yet: he has to attend a sort of training camp with other lookouts for a week. While there, though, he meets Burnie Byers, an old man who fondly remembers Japhy and speaks very highly of him. This being his fortieth anniversary in the service, the other rangers give him a leather belt as a gift.

While the others go to local carnivals for beer, Ray sits quietly and admires the powerful, glistening Skagit River and the mountain scenery. He meditates on the peaceful, ever-changing nature around him. Soon, though, it is time for Ray and two others - someone called Happy the muleskinner and the assistant-ranger Wally - to begin the trek to Desolation Peak.

As they drive to Diablo Dam, Ray describes the history of the area as a hotspot for gold-rushers in the 1890s and the scene of a raging blaze in 1919. Meanwhile, Happy the muleskinner, who Ray is actually quite fond of, makes jokes and tells Ray horror stories about his cold and lonely destination. During the trip, he repeatedly asks Ray if he sneaked some extra alcohol in his pack in preparation for the freezing peak. He also comments favorably on Japhy, of whom Ray often thinks.

After taking floats across Ross Lake, the three men begin to climb to the peak, riding horses and using pack-mules to carry supplies. At 5,000 feet reach a meadow racked by wind and rain, which only intensifies as they continue to climb upward. The only thing that prevents Ray from being terrified about the oft-slipping horses is his inability to see anything. When they finally reach the mountaintop - at the dizzying height of 6,500 feet - Ray begins to have second thoughts: his cabin is small, dank, and filthy with rodent-ruined debris. Furthermore, he wonders how he will be able to see fires at all what with all the fog; he can scarcely believe Happy's reassurance that the weather will clear up.

After doing a bit of cleaning and set-up, Happy, Wally and Ray sit down to a good meal with strong coffee before bed. In the morning, Ray is alone and frightened, very aware that he is stranded in this undesirable situation. Over the span of a couple of days, though, the fog slowly begins to clear away, ultimately giving Ray a view of Mount Hozomeen, which looks just as Japhy depicted it in one of his brush-drawings.

Chapter 33 opens as Ray contemplates Desolation Peak, which he realizes is "everything Japhy said it was." He can see land for hundreds of miles in every direction and there are low-level clouds obscuring the world below him. He can identify all of the mountains and creeks that Japhy has taught him about and is struck by the breathtaking realization that he is the only human in the world gazing at this glorious sight.

Ray's life consists largely of eating, sleeping, and standing on his head, examining the world upside-down. The scenery also changes slightly: when the clouds clear he can see tiny boaters on Ross Lake, and in the evenings he has the pleasure of witnessing splendid sunsets. He experiences fog, stiflingly still heat-waves, drizzling rain and enveloping darkness. He thoroughly enjoys his meals, his free lifestyle, his daily naps, his hand-rolled cigarettes, and the deer and insects that quickly become familiar to him.

While on the mountain, and particularly while standing on his head, Ray truly feels the strange, eternal emptiness of the world and feels that he knows something very valuable that goes unnoticed by the millions of people below him.

The last chapter in The Dharma Bums fittingly corresponds to Ray's last days on Desolation Peak. It begins with a long description of bleak, stormy weather that Ray can see from every direction: a veritable "void." Standing alone with his oil lamp "burning in infinity," Ray realizes that nothing matters and suddenly feels very free. At one point, a rainbow falls right outside of the shack, inspiring him.

Ray describes his time on the mountaintop very rapidly as morning passes to night, until at last Burnie Beyers speaks on the radio and tells his lookouts that the time has come to leave their mountains. He looks reverently at his personal world and its animal inhabitants once more and sees a vision of Japhy - the Chinese bum "Japhy of his dreams" - standing in the fog. He feels enormous gratitude and connection toward the man despite their distance, and feels that they share an understanding of something extraordinarily powerful. He also thanks God and prays for everyone. As he sets off down the trail and back to the world at last, Ray thanks the shack, finishing his earnest prayer with a grin and a seemingly out-of-place utterance - "Blah" - believing that the mountain and the shack will "understand what that means."

Analysis

The final chapters of the book describe the time Ray spends on Desolation Peak in the Cascade Mountains. His stay is relatively lonely and uneventful but also highly rewarding. In fact, it is no coincidence that Ray reaches the "height" of his understanding of Buddhism - which, as the first chapter explains, eventually fades - while atop a high mountain. Because of his successful climb to Desolation Peak, Ray also manages to fulfill his goal of reaching the peak of a mountain, which he was unable to do successfully when the trio of men climbed to Matterhorn.

Before Ray actually ascends Desolation Peak, he must hitchhike all the way to Washington. This time, though, his journey is relatively smooth. For once, he is rewarded for his non-conformity - that is, refusing to walk on the proper side of the street. Ray's smooth journey is fitting for the end of the novel as it corresponds with his ever-growing comprehension of Buddhism and his acceptance of life as it is. Furthermore, Ray has the opportunity to do what he did in the very first chapter: that is, give food to a hungry fellow traveler. This time, notably, Ray is completely neutral about providing provisions; he does not "pity" his companion but seems to give, as Japhy has taught him, for the joy of giving.

Ray in fact took his job as a fire lookout because Japhy suggested it, and his friend - though thousands of miles away - is omnipresent in Ray's memory and in the memories of the friends he made in the service. Japhy is perpetually on Ray's mind as he contemplates the world around him: "And suddenly everything Japhy had ever told me about Seattle began to seep into me like cold rain, I could feel it and see it now, and not just think it. It was exactly like he'd said: wet, immense, timbered, mountainous, cold, exhilarating, challenging." As Ray approaches the Cascade Range, he realizes that he cannot "see" the mountains, but can "feel" them to a heightened degree. The same is true of his fond companion, Japhy, who is omnipresent in his absence. It is fitting that at the very end of the novel, Ray sees a "dream" version of Japhy that is "truer than life."

During his time on Desolation Peak, Ray begins to finally get a better understanding of the Void and of compassion. Put briefly, he begins to more deeply comprehend that the world is empty, meaningless, and beautiful. Ray's dwelling is, after all, an unseen cabin in the void, surrounded by swirling weather patterns and ever-changing troops of animals. Kerouac's writing in the last two chapters is appropriately frenetic as he imitates the cycling patterns of nature that surround Ray in his little cabin. Appropriately, plot wanes and becomes secondary as Ray merely lives with no particular goal in mind.

Considering his fuller comprehension of "the void," it is appropriate that Ray often stands on his head. Although it is true that the protagonist is trying to improve circulation, this gesture is also throwback to the arthritic "Buddha" he met on a train. By this point it has come to symbolize what is one of the book's ultimate themes: that life is not to be taken too seriously. In this context of simple silliness and absurdity, Ray's final monosyllabic cry - "Blah," said with a smile-makes perfect sense.

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