FEAR AND LOATHING WITH THE ORANGE CAT

I feel mildly guilty, because I have had this book floating around for weeks; in fact it’s been well over a fortnight since I finished it.  This is going to be different to most book reviews.  Most book reviews answer the questions that any prospective buyer would want to ask, i.e. Is it any good?  This is a compendium of writings from one of the great journalists of the 20^th Century for one of the greatest music magazines of all time. Of course it’s bloody good.  What did you expect?  No, I want to use this review for something completely different. 

Hunter S Thompson, the father of ‘Gonzo journalism’ is, actually, a much maligned writer, and often completely misunderstood.  Yes, he had an inordinate appetite for chemicals of all persuasions, but – in a way – his reputation for substance abuse gets in the way of the truth; that he was a massively entertaining, highly erudite and very talented journalist.  As such, I cannot recommend his anthology highly enough.

I like the way that the entries are placed into historical context by use of Hunter’s letters to and from Jann Wenner at Rolling Stone.  This is a way of contextualising entries in an anthology which I have used myself on occasion, and which I found in an anthology by my old friend and friendly rival Patrick Huyge, something over ten years ago.

The entries in this anthology are in chronological order, and – surprisingly – the things which stick in one’s mind a few weeks after having finished the book are not necessarily the ones you would expect.  His account of the murder of  Ruben Salazar is absolutely gripping, even though I was only vaguely aware of who Salazar was.  He perfectly encapsulates the atmosphere of racism, dread, and fear of an imminent revolution which pervaded those uneasy times. His account of the Pulitzer divorce trial from 1982 is absolutely and breathtakingly wonderful.  It contains some of the funniest and most insightful journalistic writing that it is have ever been my privilege to read.  However, his writings about Richard Nixon – a man who he clearly loathed – have stood the test of time less well.  Like the things I and others wrote about Margaret Thatcher 30 years ago, they have stayed as artifacts of the time that they were written, preserved in their own vitriol, and have not stood the test of time as well as one might have expected.  Quite possibly this is because I am English, and too young to have been directly affected by Nixon’s chicanery, or the war in Vietnam.  I was probably more aware of it than most Englishmen of my age, because during the 1960s I lived in Hong Kong and saw at first hand boatloads of shell-shocked GIs visiting the then British colony in search of much-needed R & R in the brothels of Wanchai.

If I have a criticism of this book, it is that too much of it is taken from Hunter’s coverage of the 1972 American election, which was printed in book form as Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail.  However, this is an anthology of Hunter’s writing for Rolling Stone, not of his writing in general, and therefore earlier works like The Rum Diaries or his writings about life in a motorcycle gang area just not eligible for inclusion.

His best writing was when he was exploring human emotions, and the depths of human depravity which had produced them.  This is why, for example, his coverage of the Pulitzer divorce is so good.  Divorce is a sad fact of life, and is something which has almost certainly touched – to a certain extent, at least – everybody who is reading this review.  The levels of tax evasion, sexual deviancy and drug abuse described within the tale are of Olympian levels, but the bare bones of the story are familiar to us all, which is why – when they are fleshed out by Hunter’s exquisite prose – the whole thing is such an unforgettable experience.  On the whole, Hunter was better when he was describing what had actually happened, rather than a fictionalised version of what might have happened.  His account of meeting Presidents Carter and Clinton are remarkable insightful, and made me – at least – reach for my history books in order to re-evaluate my opinions of both men.

As even a brief glimpse at the logo on our mast head will tell you, I write for a company who are very much in favour of the late, good doctor.  It is part of our (and my) job to proselytise the name of Thompson far and wide.  This book is a pretty good place to start, but most of all, reading it has confirmed to me that Hunter’s writing is as rich and vibrant now as it was at any time during his lifetime!