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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
tense
adventurous
funny
sad
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Thoroughly unpleasant to read but I can’t help but appreciate it on some level
adventurous
funny
mysterious
medium-paced
adventurous
dark
funny
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.
The American dream is dead and Thompson killed it. Or maybe it was never even alive to begin with. This novel is a twisted journey into that decaying carcass, the dirty, disillusioned mess the media tried to peddle to the masses. Thompson voice is unique to the point of familiarity. In fact, quarter of the way through I was reminded of Palahniuk and lo and behold, he had cited Thompson and his gonzo journalism. Someone said Thompson really was the blueprint to many of the "individual as a microcosm of the society he lives in" storytelling beats and that definitely checks out. The grittiness never hurts though, I think the shockwaves instead do a fantastic job in reminding the reader of the truth we are so often blind too. Looking around, it does feel like we're entering another age of disillusionment just as the hippie culture did after the star addled 70's so I think Thompson's work is a great starting point for the zeitgeist during those times, and a good way to understand where we're headed right now. The novel is very much a work of absurdism though so that is something to keep in mind, don't expect much of a linear story here.
Hallucinations are bad enough. But after awhile you learn to cope with things like seeing your dead grandmother crawling up your leg with a knife in her teeth. Most acid fanciers can handle this sort of thing. But nobody can handle that other trip-the possibility that any freak with $1.98 can walk into the Circus-Circus and suddenly appear in the sky over downtown Las Vegas twelve times the size of God, howling anything that comes into his head. No, this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted.
The American dream is dead and Thompson killed it. Or maybe it was never even alive to begin with. This novel is a twisted journey into that decaying carcass, the dirty, disillusioned mess the media tried to peddle to the masses. Thompson voice is unique to the point of familiarity. In fact, quarter of the way through I was reminded of Palahniuk and lo and behold, he had cited Thompson and his gonzo journalism. Someone said Thompson really was the blueprint to many of the "individual as a microcosm of the society he lives in" storytelling beats and that definitely checks out. The grittiness never hurts though, I think the shockwaves instead do a fantastic job in reminding the reader of the truth we are so often blind too. Looking around, it does feel like we're entering another age of disillusionment just as the hippie culture did after the star addled 70's so I think Thompson's work is a great starting point for the zeitgeist during those times, and a good way to understand where we're headed right now. The novel is very much a work of absurdism though so that is something to keep in mind, don't expect much of a linear story here.
Hallucinations are bad enough. But after awhile you learn to cope with things like seeing your dead grandmother crawling up your leg with a knife in her teeth. Most acid fanciers can handle this sort of thing. But nobody can handle that other trip-the possibility that any freak with $1.98 can walk into the Circus-Circus and suddenly appear in the sky over downtown Las Vegas twelve times the size of God, howling anything that comes into his head. No, this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted.