Before sainthood, in the Catholic Church, certain attestations must occur, stages be met. Beatification is one such stage.
And it's that term, picked up by the poet/novelist Jack Kerouac, himself descended from French/Canadian Catholic 'stock', that became applied to the kind of writing he did, and the kind of surprising glory he wished others to witness in the outsiders about whom he wrote.
The 'outside', for his time, were those worn thin by a major economic depression and a horrendous world war, and in particular people in urban centers, not a few of whom were of African descent, the very people who were vibrating with jazz and a sense that it was time to come 'inside'.
Many who now try to imitate his spontaneity don't do it well.
Many who dismiss his art would do well to note the seriousness and even religiosity embedded in his wildness.
He died poorly. He lived sincerely.