Everyone seems to think it was a tragic waste of talent, the way this guy just spent his time as a burnout, ripping editors off and rarely producing quality work
Is there a distant echo somewhere in there among all those words? Fear, loathsome - Whack! In fact this is the third book since Thompson's masterpiece Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to contain titular variations on fear and loathing - and that's not counting the umpteen magazine pieces that bear their standard.
Such is the regularity with which they crop up in the Thompson oeuvre that one almost expects them to be appended with a registered trademark symbol.
Inevitably their presence invites comparison with the original and, as yet, the comparison has not been flattering. Adjectives that might also fall under the Thompson patent would include savage, lurid, wild, weird, crazy, evil, brutal, depraved and foul. But what started out as an intoxicating and intoxicated style has become over the long years an exhausted and exhausting brand.
In that sense this book is little more than a continuation of a creative hangover that has been raging, to a greater or lesser degree, for the better part of 25 years.
As a young writer, Thompson pinned up a page from The Great Gatsby over his typewriter as a reminder of perfect prose pitch.
And like Fitzgerald, he hit that pitch in his own work early. Justly renowned for its hysterical, hallucinogenic vision of American paranoia in the Vietnam era, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was also, as is sometimes forgotten, exquisitely written.
Success, of course, can be every bit as damaging as failure, and what damaged Thompson as a writer was the creation, in which he played an active part, of his renegade legend.
With his emphatic, baroque pronouncements, he challenges the reader to take him seriously, then laughs at the idea of doing so. Instead we're left to make our confused way through a mundane scrapbook of half-thoughts and dead ends. Like an ageing fighter, Thompson still knows the moves, but he can't seem to string them together with any sense of purpose or direction.
The outcome is more myth than hit. Thompson fans may argue that the myth is what they want, that the persona of the wrecked and reckless Dr Thompson is one of the great satirical inventions of twentieth-century letters.
Satire changes with the times, though, and Thompson has come to resemble a movie character suspended in a Seventies timewarp only to be reanimated in a world he no longer understands. Thus the effect of his preoccupation with marijuana is to parody no one or nothing more painfully than himself.
There are flourishes of vintage Thompson here and there, especially his reports from abroad, but only enough to make you realise how meagre and predictable the writing is throughout most of the rest of the book.
His insights, for example, regarding America post-September 11 lack freshness and, come to that, insight. Pages of profiles and news stories about the outlaw god make a generous contribution to filling out the book's pages.
There are also photo snapshots of Thompson in typical defiant mode, either with a drink, a smoke or a celebrity buddy. Indeed it's easy to gain the impression, no doubt unfair, that the maverick loner has become a kind of counterculture Nelson Mandela, always ready to shake the hand of and pose for the camera with the famous come to pay their respects.
At his best, Thompson was able to get the story by stepping back from the main action and taking a look at the madness surrounding it. Now he seems to have stepped back so far that all that he can report on is his own madness, railing against the powers that be like some literary Unabomber who's spent too long in his log cabin those celeb visits notwithstanding.
Behind the familiar tropes and random italics and capitals, it's still possible to discern an author with integrity and soul struggling to find his subject.
But too often the result reads like how you imagine writer's block would read if it were written down. The talent displayed here is no longer Gonzo.
On this evidence, it's just plain gone.May 22, · Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" is a funny book by a gifted writer, who seems gifted and funny no longer.
He coined the term "gonzo journalism" to describe his guerrilla approach to reporting, which consisted of getting stoned out of his mind, hurling himself at a story, and recording it in frenzied hyperbole.1/5. A first-rate sensibility twinger, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is a pop-culture classic, an icon of an era past, and political books as much but Fear And Loathing has become one of my all-time favorites and if your purchasing your first Hunter S Thompson book this is the on I would recommend.
The movie (featuring Johnny Depp) was /5(K). “Hunter S. Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” is a funny book by a gifted writer, who seems gifted and funny no longer. He coined the term “gonzo journalism” to describe his guerrilla approach to reporting, which consisted of getting stoned out of his mind, hurling himself at a story, and recording it in frenzied hyperbole.”.
In fact this is the third book since Thompson's masterpiece Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to contain titular variations on fear and loathing - and that's not counting the umpteen magazine.
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas How To Overcome Fear of Flying: The Cure For Fear of Airplane Flights: Conquer Your Fear Flying! The Paperback of the Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream by Hunter S.
Thompson, Ralph Steadman | at Barnes Saw the movie and now the book is AMAZING Anonymous: More than 1 year ago: funny as heck. Fear and Loathing Hunter S.
Thompson defines the true definition of drug induced fear and /5().