Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson Review & Ponder
Review:
*sees you hitchhiking and picks you up*
So, you're a doctor of journalism who's going to Las Vegas to write an article on the Mint 400 motorbike race. It's an all expenses paid trip with $300 spending money. What do you do? Hire a red convertible and build up a serious drug collection. Obviously...and also because your attorney said so.
Basically, that's the general plot set up. Though, as you can probably predict, the large drug collection doesn't exactly aid the intended productive nature of the trip, and it becomes quite literally that, one massive trip to the illusive heart of the American Dream. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is without a doubt one of my favourite books. Why? Not the plot or anything irrelevant like that, it's because its a roller coaster of a read...but with more bats and the seats keep melting and the people are lizards...or are they...
It was written in 1971 by the journalist Hunter S Thompson and what makes the book, for me, is the style in which it is written. The book is written in Thompson's manic first person style, more commonly known now as Gonzo journalism and though he did not coin the phrase, it is now synonymous with his work. It is used to describe writing, and now other media, in which the first person is voicing the narrator and protagonist who has been dropped in the heart of the action to observe and critique the surrounding environment. Thus, the product is often self involved, funny, exaggerated and totally unreliable. This allows the reader to view something that feels gritty, personal, real and far more believable than the more detached, and strictly edited, approach that is commonly favoured.
Much of the book was based Thompson's own experiences. First, he was sent by Scanlan's Monthly to write seminal sports article on the 1970 Kentucky Derby in Louisville. He called the article 'The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved' and it was accompanied by Ralph Steadman's iconic sketches (reportedly drawn with an eyeliner and lipstick).
Like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the article disregarded the topic of the race and (as Thompson and Steadman couldn't even see the race from their seats) instead focused on their more immediate surroundings. In this case the crowd. It describes the celebration, depravity and the interesting collection of characters in the crowd and the area the race was held in. It is essentially a commentary of the experience filled with people watching and, as I said before, disregards the race to focus on the emotions and characters brought out by the event. Apparently, soon after Thompson realised his deadline was fast approaching and, with no real race coverage, he sent the jumbled pages to the magazine. The Boston Globe magazine editor Bill Cardoso described Thompson's style as 'pure Gonzo journalism'. It is said that he explained 'gonzo' was a word in South Boston Irish slang to describe the last man standing after an all-night drinking marathon or that it was from the French Canadian word 'gonzeaux', which means 'shining path'. But I don't believe the last one because the first theory fits perfectly...So, in a whirlwind of observations, emotions and panic the odd first person Gonzo style journalism was born.
'The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved' was also described like the experience of 'falling down an elevator shaft and landing in a pool of mermaids'. I think overall that comes the closest to accurately describing it. However, despite the pools of mermaids and other debatable praise, the article was 'aggressively rejected'. Though (I bet you saw this coming) the 15,000 word article was adapted and became part one of Fear and Loathing.
In April 1971 Thompson returned to write an article for Rolling Stone magazine on the National District Attorneys Conference on Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs (sound familiar to the one in the book?) Thompson wrote that and then ended up also selling the previous story to the magazine. Ta da! The two halves of Fear and Loathing as we know it were born from fact, edited, and published in Rolling Stone magazine that very year.
At this point I'd also like to counter the, in my opinion daft, argument presented that it is pro-drug. Yes, it has frequent drug use and rather than warning of frequent drug use, it would be more appropriate to warn of a constant drone of drug use but to offset the initial ecstasy after consumption the horrible consequences of abuse are always included later. I think in most cases you have to be pre-willing to do something rather than wholly influenced by a book, film or other media so while it may sway you it cannot completely alter your views. So its not like I had a sudden overwhelming desire to start collecting drugs...except that time I unknowingly carried around £1000 of morphine...err, yeah that's another story...it was for medial reasons okay?! Haha.
Moving swiftly on. The book, being an book, and handily chaptered allows you to read a bit at a time. Genius inference I know...yeah, let me get to the point. I think this aided the novel by providing a much needed reprieve in the torrents of madness, allowing you to have a gulp of real life before the floor starts swimming again. That said, its still intense. It trips the tight rope between fiction and nonfiction as the reader debates reality and hallucinations. Submersed in the style that epitomises Thompson it's easy to forget what you're reading but I believe it still serves as a vile epitaph for the drug culture of the sixties and seventies.
Despite this close style I don't feel I particularly know, like or respect Thompson as a person. Especially as in his latter years he was a drunkard who decided to quit life at 67, rather inconsiderately, with a gun at a family gathering. The impulsive, possibly selfish, nature of the writer is without a doubt seen the book. An abundance of freedom and shocking disregard for safety lay at the heart: twisted into hilarity. One take away aspect is the attitude presented that implies you should live, not just survive, and find that wild zen doing what you love with great spontaneity, vigour and without the approval of others. So, perhaps sometimes it's better to forget planning and instead just, as Hunter S Thompson said, 'buy the ticket, take the ride'. I wish I was brave enough to live by such a philosophy.
As with most of this ramble I find my self returning, for my final point, to the the crazy style of journalism he created. I've read articles that say the peak of gonzo journalism has been and gone. And I suppose in a way it has, it's uncommon to find an article written in that style anywhere today. Is it because its associated with books like Fear and Loathing? I can understand how it would be inappropriate for many serious news articles! However, I have also been thinking about how social media tools such as Instagram, YouTube, Twitter and blogging/micro-blogging sites like Tumblr (the diary side not meme side haha) are essentially stripped down platforms for modern gonzo journalism. So, in a way it is stronger than ever. We live in an age where we are all journalists in some way. Yeah, that could be from filming a new hit cat video or capturing footage of a natural disaster on a phone that is later used by a news channel. Whatever, it's still taken and recorded in the moment. So is social media the reinvented face of gonzo journalism? If so its playing a bigger part in mainstream journalism than ever before. It also justifies me wasting spending absurd amounts of time on Tumblr. Right?
Favourite quotes:
“San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
[...]
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.”
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
[...]
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.”
"Look outside," I said.
"Why?"
"There's a big ... machine in the sky, ... some kind of electric snake ... coming straight at us."
"Shoot it," said my attorney.
"Not yet," I said. "I want to study its habits.”
Overall:
I'd give Thompson's book a good few stars - though Thompson himself probably wouldn't care. Also, I'd recommend you read 'The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved'. The original and infamous first piece of 'pure gonzo journalism' is still the truest way of capturing the odd style perfectly, unedited, and drunkenly swaying on the fine line between insightfully unusual and mindless crap.
As with many of my favourite books I can see its not for everyone, a bit marmite. You could view it as mad and pointless but why not give it a go? Oh, and watch out for those bats...you'll see them soon enough. Thanks for reading!
*throws you out of the car and speeds off into the distance*
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