Posted on 02/28/2005 6:21:50 PM PST by Chris_Shugart
Gonzo But Not Forgotten
The strange and terrible legacy of Hunter S. Thompson
By Chris Shugart, Feb 28, 2005
Long before the New Media emerged into prominence, there was the New Journalism, a modernistic writing style that flourished in the Sixties. Writers like Truman Capote, Tom Wolfe, and George Plimpton were establishing a new trend that was blurring the lines between journalism and literary fiction. At the time, there was also Hunter S. Thompson, who created his own unique genre that was so far outside the margin lines that it spawned its own definition: gonzo journalism.
Now that Thompson is gone, the cultural fusspots have taken a moment to wag their disapproving fingers at a man who seemed to have little regard for conventional niceties. It’s also given a chance for the fashionable literati to bestow reverence to his sardonic disdain for the American establishment. But any way you try to characterize him, Hunter S. Thompson left an unmistakable mark that was completely his own.
I must confess that I have a soft spot in my heart for the good doctor. And as you might guess, I am of that generation—those baby boomers who were most predisposed to draw some meaning out of Thompson’s acerbic prose. “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro,” were inspiring words for fearless non-conformists of the sixties. It was a gleam of hope that one could maintain their reckless individualism and not wind up chronically unemployable. As Thompson once observed, “The trick is getting paid for it.”
It’s mainly the baby-boomer generation who will remember Thompson. For many of us, he was a classic counter-culture archetype; an outlaw journalist who could blend rebellion and irreverence and render it into a savage portrait of our national character. Like his alter-ego Raoul Duke, he was “Horatio Alger gone mad on drugs” furiously plundering into the heart of the American dream.
Thompson may never get inducted into the hallowed hall of most memorable American writers, but the style he created is already firmly established in literary nomenclature. The word gonzo can be found in both the Oxford English Dictionary, and Webster’s New World Dictionary, to name a few. And if you happen to have a copy of Webster’s New World Dictionary of Media and Communications, you’ll find this entry under gonzo journalism: “reporting filled with bizarre or extremely subjective ideas or commentary; a term originated in the early 1970s by journalist Hunter Thompson…”
Self-indulgent, anarchic, and prone to excess in everything he did, Thompson spent a career and a lifetime destroying the boundaries between the safe confines of the status quo and the dangerous possibilities of unchecked revolt. Needless to say, respectable society was never Hunter S. Thompson’s domain, much less his concern. He was politically incorrect long before anyone knew what that was.
Although Thompson’s literary career spanned decades, his writings most worthy of note are relatively few. Hell’s Angels (1967) and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1971) are examples of Hunter S. Thompson at his best. Both contain fascinating microcosmic views into the culture of the sixties, full of insightful perspectives of the generation that enthusiastically embraced him.
His shining moment may have been brief, but it was a moment that burned brightly while it lasted. Thompson’s early fame elevated him to a kind of rock-star status that transformed him into a pop-culture icon. But fame can be something hard to live up to, and Thompson gradually turned into a self-conscious caricature. His literary work began to take a back seat to his notorious lifestyle.
Thompson’s cutting edge style dulled over the years. Frankly, his work of the past two decades is mostly forgettable, consisting mainly of letters, memoirs, and essays, filled with mean spirited invectives and hostile rants. Long gone was that sharp and cynical wit he displayed in 1972 with his political chronicle-of-the-absurd, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail. Thompson aged most ungracefully. So it wasn’t much of a surprise to me when I learned that he had shot himself—a man profanely self-absorbed to the bitter end.
In spite of his uneven career and lifelong commitment to over-indulgence, I’ll always remember Hunter S. Thompson as one of the truly colorful figures from the sixties. In that dubious era of phony psychedelic bohemians and inane pseudo-revolutionaries, Thompson was a genuine iconoclast who rose above the counter-culture flotsam.
Nowadays, you don’t hear the stories much, but a lot of boomers have them; strange and terrible Thompson-esque tales of depraved and irresponsible misadventures of a bygone age; untold sagas of drug induced escapades, ugly public scenes, and unfortunate confrontations with the authorities. Not always as wild and out of control perhaps, but you might be surprised. For many of us, Thompson’s outrageous antics tread on pretty familiar ground.
I guess you had to have been there. Perhaps the real appeal of Thompson’s work is that it often reads like an inside joke for those of us who survived our own savage journeys. His fables allowed us to laugh at our malignant narcissism and ultimately showed us something about our own self-indulgent follies.
No kidding. I forgot about this guy, Hunter Thompson, 25 years ago.
Amen to that.
I'm sick of these stupid fawning eulogies to that scumbag.
Never heard of the guy, so not forgotten so much as never existed.
"Writers like Truman Capote, Tom Wolfe, and George Plimpton were establishing a new trend that was blurring the lines between journalism and literary fiction."
Maybe this is where Dan Rather learned about "blurring the lines between journalism and literary fiction."
Suicide was a positive career move for HST.
I have never understood why we must find a way to explain how important to our society are classless little bugs.
"I guess you had to have been there." I was there. Thompson was a third rate writer, second rate journalist, and first rate egotistical druggie. I certainly don't want him to represent my generation.
NOT!
he had the libera view....so they are gonna drag out that dude's expired 15 minutes for at least two weeks.
It seems as if they already have. He and Truman Capote are waaaaaay overrated.
Sales of his books have shot thru the roof. This begs the question, is the Doctor really dead? He was buddies with John Law in Aspen, no open casket, and little outside, third party, independent verification of his demise.
If Hunter was shown this scenario, he would claim it was a fraud perpetrated by greed hogs bent on a fast buck.
Can anyone tell me in what fashion he accomplished the aforementioned feat? Did he get drunk more often? Beat his wife or companion or whatever more often? Shoot more heroine into his c*ck?
Is there any other way to "rise to the top" of this culture?
And why do some people think that this is a good thing?
I was watching "Reliable Sources" on CNN. Howard Kurtz and 2 other Liberals were on giving a love fest to "Gonzo Hunter" (with no Conservatives in this segment to offer any viewpoint). The aging hippie with the beard and glasses was particular annoying in his orgasmic approach to this freak.
When I saw your post, I was reminded how strange and outrageous it was for these people to fawn after this creepy human being. What CNN also did not mention was that after Thompson killed himself, his wife invited friends over to drink Chivas Regal in the kitchen while standing over his bloody corpse, which was still dripping fluids and brain matter on the floor, according to police.
These are the people on the Left that like to lecture us on issues.
HST had a few worthwhile things to say. He was on a short list of sixties luminaries: Ken Kesey, Bill Graham, R. Crumb, Bob Dylan, and Frank Zappa. Can't think of anyone else who did anything worthwhile. I'd be interested if anyone is willing to elaborate or add to the list.
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