I also dug Ron Jacobs's more autobiographical piece in Counterpunch. He has been reflecting on this period for some time and with great insight and sympathy.
I also dug Ron Jacobs's more autobiographical piece in Counterpunch. He has been reflecting on this period for some time and with great insight and sympathy.
Last night we also discussed Warren Hinckle, and I wanted to add his face to the gallery of Hunter Thompson's super editors.
Among other things, we talked about Thompson's time in Big Sur, which was brief but eventful. It was also very formative. At the time, Thompson thought of himself as a novelist-in-progress, and I argue that Henry Miller's model of authorship was very attractive to him.
The goal now is to schedule an event at the library. We'll see if we can pull that off in these fraught times.>
The positive feedback to this article on my Facebook page was gratifying. Timothy Ferris, who knew Thompson well from their days at Rolling Stone, had this to say: "Very nicely done. Avoids the pitfalls that have beset many other writers on this subject, and is also refreshingly original. The phrase 'both generative and degenerate' captures a lot. You can be proud of this piece." That meant a lot to me.
I've been thinking a lot about Joan Didion and her legacy. My misgivings about her portrait of California have been stacking up over the years, but there's no denying the achievement, and I count myself among her admirers.
In the course of writing about Hunter Thompson, I found myself writing about her, too. She reportedly didn't understand why Tom Wolfe included her work in The New Journalism (1973). "Certainly I have nothing in common with Hunter," she said. That's very true on one level, of course. Her work was cool, precise, controlled. His was fractious, hyperbolic, extravagant. But in both cases, the world revealed its meaning through their heightened perceptions.
Her journey from Goldwater girl to Reagan critic offered another point of comparison with Thompson. By the time she wrote "The Lion King" for The New York Review of Books in 1988, Thompson was no longer the scourge he was during the Nixon era. That transformation was her second act; the third was her grief work at the end of her career. She reinvented herself in a way that Thompson never did, but she never abandoned her signature style or sensibility.
There's more on all this in the Thompson book, maybe too much, but she's a great foil for him as well as a major figure.