Book Review

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Curiously, I had put off reading Hunter S. Thompson’s most famous work until, I felt, I was at a point where I could really appreciate it. I had seen the movie anyways and was in no rush. Now it is finished, lying on the top of a stack of library books. What do I have to say? Well. For one, it is a brilliant piece of writing. It is not fiction necessarily, or at least not in the sense we tend to deal with. This, like his other books, is a collection of his thoughts and observations put through a strange, psychedelic wash cycle left on spin for too long. During his time, Thompson’s writing style broke all the rules. He was a journalist first and foremost (if you can really call what he did journalism) so his style is firmly rooted in an observational tone. Unlike most journalists, who remove themselves from the story they are covering, Thompson then threw himself into the mix. He became the lens through which his stories were viewed. So much is he tied to his work that instead of being a true “narrator,” he transforms more into a character, or rather a caricature, based in his mannerisms and vices. The voice he finds here is harrowing. Supremely ironic, unflinchingly honest, and always interesting, Thompson doesn’t blink away the details. He finds the stuff of his art in the smallest moments, blown up a thousand times over by his mind-altering experiences. You might say he is an untrustworthy narrator. You might say that his perceptions are so altered that even this, a work of fiction, cannot be trusted. I disagree. His drug use gives his prose a visceral, blunt quality. It hits you over the head like a ton of bricks, lacking all the subtlety a more sober writer might add. This is not, as you might have imagined, a drawback. On the contrary, it is a refreshing blast of pure, chaotic emotion. I dig the vibe he gives off, man. I certainly do. He has a unique voice. You could recognize Hunter S. Thompson’s writing anywhere. It is my goal to, one day, be as recognizable as he is. Overall, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, or any of his books, are all works worthy of tremendous attention even decades after their first publishing. Don’t do drugs, kids.