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>> Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas |
Updated: 20 Nov 2005 |
Check Amazon for this book: United States (Amazon.com) / International (Amazon.co.uk)
ISBN 0-0065-5136-X
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Hunter S. Thompson is sometimes hailed as one of the fathers of gonzo journalism, and it is this book which established his repuatation, brought him fame, and possibly fortune – I wouldn't know. That much I already knew before eventually getting around to reading it; I had high expectations.
Alas, Fear and Loathing is complete crap. I don't just mean that it is not to my taste: I mean it has no merit – literary, iconic, historical, cultural ... anything. It is rubbish; a waste of paper.
If you've never attempted this piece of junk, you can get some idea of the style by imagining an unholy blend between P.J. O'Rourke at his worst (which, although I generally like PJO, can be pretty dire), Henry Miller (a foul-mouthed but otherwise toothless old carp), and the rambling non sequiteurs of Cheech and Chong.
The events in the book, such as they are, are presumably autobiographical: it is said that Thompson "lived on the edge." Thompson died on 20 February 2005 from gunshot wounds, evidently self-inflicted.
Recommendation:
Choose any other printed material – the back of a cereal package, anything – it
will be better.
Look and Feel: My edition is the usual matt-finish paperback including a handful of ink drawings which, although they would not ordinarily merit a second glance, were the high point of the thing.
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