I had to read this book for my CORE 104 class in TO, and I couldn't get into it. While there are parts that are interesting, and I guess I saw the point, I really couldn't get into the surreal narrative of the story.
I pretty much feel the same way rereading it 8 years later. While I've enjoyed many strange books in my time, there's something about the disjointed nature of his experiences- while the narrative flows, the protagonist experiences many completely different things with little time to transfer from one mode of thought to another.
I think the different stories it tells about race and the different ways of thinking about being African American are interesting and thought provoking. But I don't think I'll be coming back to this one.

Dark, frustrating and beautiful. Read it with "Native Son."

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I've been interested to read this book for some time. A college student from Amherst quits school and starts riding trains with hobos and tramps. He writes about all aspects of the trip- the excitement of catching and riding a train, the fear of getting caught, what it's like to live in such poverty.
I wouldn't take on such hardship. I don't really have the desire to challenge myself that way. But it's interesting to hear how it changes him.
I don't really agree with his views on our responsibility to tramps- I don't know what the answer is, but I don't think the answer is providing them with comforts. Many of the people he meets are just lazy or mean, and I don't know how to distinguish them from the ones who have actual problems and can't make a living.

A vividly descriptive portrayal of Conover's several months riding the rails when he was in his 20s. The book was originally published in 1981, but thankfully made its way back into print 20 years later. Conover is the kind of journalist I wish I could be: he completely immerses himself into his topics. While I talk about someday jumping on a train for a new adventure, Conover did it. His telling of that experience and what it taught him about America are as pertinent now as they were 30 years ago. Then we called them hobos or bums or tramps. Now they all get lumped into one category: homeless. They are the forgotten and ignored in our society. Conover's opinions are honest, sometimes brutally so, as he writes about their plight and the dangers they face on a daily basis. While people like me dream of the romance of the rails, Conover shows us the harsh reality.