Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #599937 in Books
• Published on: 1998-04
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 720 pages

Customer Reviews

Not so bad.
For those who have mourned Thompson's extended plummet into pathetic self-indulgent schtick, this book is a reminder of what we lost. The central theme of the book turns out to be poverty and desparation as a catalyst for creativity. The letters are stunning. There is something fundamentally reassuring about a guy who hocks his beloved high-powered rifle to feed his writing habit. In retrospect, though, and with the hindsight provided by the hideous crap Thompson has foisted upon us since about 1976 (with the notable exception of Curse of Lono), the letters really become the tale of a tormented artist desparately seeking to escape his muse. Regrettably, Thompson succeeded. The story told by the letters and Thompson's later work is that Thompson was only willing to try to satisfy the demands of his talent for so long as he had to try to survive. Like so much of his recent work, this book is a monument to avoiding more creation. I'm certain that Thompson put these letters together not for the remarkable work that they are, but to keep himself in barbituates and hunting knives -- or whatever he is currently using to distract him from his lost art. For once, though, Thompson's fear has outsmarted him. In his continuing effort to find an easy way to cash -in his reputation without actually writing, he accidently provided something worth reading.

What a LIVER!
Hunter blossoms into psychohood in this grand book of letters of chaos, depression, drunkeness and other similar tales. A must read for the individual who is into writing, and likes literature and humor, and especially if you love hunty.

I bet Oprah won't put her label on this one.
Raise this book high and salute the will of a man to lay his life out in unsanitized words for all to see. This is a book that proves that the pen is not only mightier than the sword but leaves scars that cut deeper and last much longer. Not since Jack London's "Martin Eden" have I read such a terrifying account of a writer struggling against the forces in society that sneer and wag their self-righteous fingers at honesty, and even more so the will of the messenger to reveal it. Part anarchist and full iconoclast, Thompson takes on all comers from Hell's Angels to Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon and especially the low-life agents and editors that would steal thier mother's walking stick to fend off a writer coming after his (or her) due. If you enjoy Thompson's work this is a must read.