I don't think any of us expected him to die quietly in bed, and with his final act, Hunter S. Thompson turned a gun on himself this weekend. He hadn't grown saner over the years, and we all knew about his serious fixation on firearms. To celebrate Hunter S. Thompson, we need to look beyond his public persona, and his final act, and go straight to the texts.
From his recently published The Rum Diaries (written in 1959) to the Fear And Loathing books, the guy could write. His Hell's Angels book broke serious ground for participatory journalism. Fear And Loathing On The Campaign Trail '72 is the best book (and the funniest book) I've ever read on the campaign process. Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas is an extremely twisted and hilarious peek under the covers at the American Dream. His books of letters (The Proud Highway, etc.), The Curse of Lono, and other lesser known books were first rate. Even the later, crankier, and more misanthropic books still had much to recommend them; no matter what, the guy could write. He was not an objective journalist, but he was a great partisan journalist. He believed in his books. Everything else didn't count for much. I have probably learned more about writing from him than almost anyone else I've read. His journalistic background allowed him a structure that so many other people struggle to find. He found his voice early, and he stuck to it.
Buy a book or two and check him out if you haven't had the chance. /jack
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