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Book Reviews of Gonzo: The Life of Hunter S. ThompsonBook Review: Cheap Shot Summary: 2 Stars
From Anita Thompson:
Reading the LA times review of Jann Wenner's book made me realize I need to communicate in more specific terms. The reviewer was too sloppy to understand that Jann never forgave Hunter for leaving Rolling Stone. Jann convinced nearly all of Hunter's friends to participate in what would be a "positive" book about Hunter. Then, using a cheap parlor trick, Jann excerpted and paraphrased the negative bits of interviews to weave a tall tale to trash Hunter.
Hunter wrote more in the last 5 years of his life than he had in the previous 15, along with fighting and winning a beautiful legal battle for Lisl Auman. Hunter believed in the triumph of the human spirit. John Nichols from the Nation has said, and I agree, that some of Hunter's most savage and inspiring political writing, was in his ESPN columns during the last years of his life. Yes, they were short, insightful and funny. He inspired thousands of sports lovers to get involved with politics. Simple.
What the L.A. Times reviewer fails to notice is that in addition to Hunter "using" people around him, the truth is that Hunter was surrounded, much of his life, by leeches (many of those leeches grace the pages of the book). It doesn't take a rocket scientist to recognize that many people did TAKE, TAKE, TAKE from Hunter and gave very little in return. While sitting at his typewriter, Hunter helped many people, especially Jann, make a lot of money. Today is no exception.
Here is the letter that I wrote to Jann in May, after receiving the manuscript. I had to tell him the book was a FRAUD, and that I would not write a forward or include an interview -- which was SCARY, because I felt very much alone. Despite his withering status, Jann is considered "rich and powerful," and I was warned by friends that he would go after me if I refused to be in the book. Jann offered me a lot of money and ad space in his magazine to include my interview and forward, and implied threats if I didn't. In the end, however, the best people to defend Hunter are his readers.
Jann:
In my refrigerator I have a jar of mayonnaise, two tangerines, 1/2 carton of soy milk and a few boxes of dried spaghetti. And I also have an overdrawn bank account, $43 in my wallet, and no car. So, I really, REALLY could use that money! But I need to let you know that I'm sticking with my original decision I made many months ago - that I can not be a part of [your book] in any shape or form. I hope you understand. If readers believe that the bits and pieces of interviews you weaved together tell an accurate story, there is nothing I could possibly write in a 500 word forward to sway them. Defending him in a forward would be futile. So, I'm out. And yes, let's part ways.
Rolling Stone [and especially US Weekly] is such a huge success financially... You have accumulated a mass amount of power and wealth over the last 40 years -- Why do you have to use it against Hunter? It would have been so beautiful if you would have used that power to compile, into a book, a bunch of humiliating personal interviews about someone like Paul Wolfowitz, Cheney, Rice, or Rumsfeld or Armitage or Even Bush. Why Hunter? You walked around at both memorial services in a constant state of tears and made people trust you to sit down and do interviews with Corey. I know you and Hunter had some problems over the years... [but] I don't understand the level of venom employed here. Why?
You couldn't deny the fact that yes, as soon as he left Rolling Stone, you portray him as an awful beast of a man. But you also couldn't deny the fact that all these people loved him dearly "all the way to the end". The reason peopled loved him is because he is one of the rare human beings who is essentially decent, with moments of rotten behavior.
I wish I could appeal to your sense of decency and that you would burn this awful manuscript. It would be the right thing to do. I realize you're probably laughing at me to even suggest it. Oh Well.
One of my first nights working with Hunter on a project here in the kitchen was in 1999 on the second letters book. I wrote about it in one of the essay portions of my 3 hour Columbia entrance exam. On this night, there were several letters to [and from] you up for consideration...Many people lobbied to include those nasty ones. Hunter humored them for a while. But he wouldn't run them in the end.
THAT is why "people loved Hunter all the way to the end." Because no matter how vicious he could be, he was essentially decent in a huge way. And when he did attack people, it was only those who were in a position to defend themselves.
Anyway, I know I've pissed you off and it's probably not the best strategy for me to make an enemy of you. But I love Hunter, and hate to see his friend bash him to pieces... and hope to god that you just go with your heart and reconsider this whole project. If you want to publish embarrassing interviews about me, so be it. I've learned to deflect cheap shots. Just lay off Hunter, he's dead. Won't you???
Regardless, I wish you some peace and forgiveness in your life.
Sincerely,
Anita
(May 23, 2007)
p.s. for those of you worried about Johnny Depp, although I haven't spoken to him in a long time, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he just trusted Wenner, like everybody else when he allowed the reprint of his "forward."
regarding "oral biography" about Hunter S. Thompson
Book Review: A Sober Account of Gonzo Summary: 4 Stars
Here were are: an "oral biography" of Hunter S. Thompson, orchestrated by his longtime editor/friend/foil Jann Wenner, the Godfather of Rolling Stone, with help from Corey Seymour, one of Wenner`s capos/lackeys.
What exactly is an oral biography? I always assumed it was a lot of quotes and anecdotes from people with firsthand knowledge, something much looser than a plain old biography. Many stories. Many points of view. With the reader charged with most of the impossible task of putting Humpty Dumpty into a coherent whole.
From Gonzo, The Life of Hunter of Hunter S. Thompson, I was expecting a loose collection of the wildest Duke stories. The kind of book meant to be read on Coconut Grove with a pitcher or tab or pipe full of your recreational drug of choice. I was expecting all Hunter's friends and enemies and various drug dealers, bikers and groupies in a big battle to deliver the wildest, weirdest, most poignant stories of the Good Doctor.
In short, I was expecting a Gonzo history of Gonzo.
But this book is as far from Gonzo as it gets. It is neat. It is thorough. It is a linear, tight and very satisfying narrative. The speakers are kept on a tight schedule. They are each given a few paragraphs to make some point Wenner has deemed worth making and then are quickly ushered offstage. None ever threaten to take over or make a scene. There are no contact highs anywhere in these pages. No hangovers either. Wenner explains in his introduction that those wild Hunter stories gets tiring after a while. Wenner however didn't seem to think the reader would have a problem with endless stories of how hard Hunter was on editors.
I am not being fair. I enjoyed this book. The real story of Hunter Thompson is as fascinating as the exploits of Hunter Thompson. And that is saying a lot. The book opens with Hunter's Louisville childhood, where we get several possible explanations for the birth of the Gonzo. Hunter loses his Dad early. His Mother drinks. He has his nose rubbed in his class a few times. And he has a criminal streak that comes from a dark place.
But in the next few chapters Hunter is able to channel his rage into creating his best work. Wenner spares no praise here, proclaiming that Hunter's early stuff belongs in the canon of great American literature. Wenner also concludes, perhaps not unfairly, that Hunter never wrote much worth reading that did not first appear in the pages of Rolling Stone and that his books after Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail were mostly misses.
The last third of the book chronicles Hunter's sad decline as his super human appetite for drugs, alcohol, female assistants, guns and chaos take their human toll. In the final two chapters, Hunter is a helpless wreck. We watch uncomfortably as Hunter shuffles around his Aspen ranch, drink in hand, unable to navigate the walk from kitchen to the living room without shouts and curses aimed at hapless subordinates.
Hunter would have wanted a biography that sends its readers charging to the nearest bar, not marching off to an AA meeting. This biography most definitely accomplishes the latter. Perhaps it is unfair to fault Wenner for the large dose of clarity that he has delivered. After all, any one in the mood for a wild time will always have Hunter's work.
Book Review: Jann Wenner Still Feasting on Hunter's Talent Summary: 1 Stars
Rolling Stone editor slays king of Gonzo
By Charles Memminger
Honolulu Star-Bulletin Jan. 24, 2008
Knowing I had met and interviewed one of my favorite authors, Hunter S. Thompson, at the Kahala Mandarin in 2002, three years before he killed himself, my daughter Sarah gave me for Christmas a new book out on the great man. I sent this e-mail to her at college in Oregon:
Dear Sarah,
I finished "Gonzo," the "oral history" hatchet job on Hunter Thompson that apparently all of his ex-wives, girlfriends and anyone else he ever p--ed off decided to publish. What a brutal tome. Man, this was like the entire Roman senate turning on Julius Caesar.
Et tu, Jann Wenner? Wenner is the publisher of Rolling Stone magazine who masterminded this posthumous character assassination. He also encouraged Hunter's extreme behavior in return for putting Rolling Stone on the political and pop-culture map. Wenner whined all the way to the circulation bank about how hard it was to get Hunter to finish a story, but then would drop acid with him at Hunter's Colorado compound and basically attach himself like a rented remora to Hunter so he could bask in the residual glory and coolness that surrounded the country's King of Weird.
Wenner wrung the last bit of creative juice out of Hunter, finally discarding him like a used grapefruit, leaving him a pathetic, drunken, drug-addled, hobbled (and essentially impoverished) shell. Probably to protect his literary legacy from further degenerating into parody and pathos, Hunter took the .45-caliber express to Shambhala. And how lucky for Wenner. Wenner had a winner of an ending for his alleged biography of Hunter.
With all the whining Wenner did about how hard it was to get Hunter to finish a writing project, it's ironic -- nauseating, really -- that Wenner didn't take the time to actually write this book himself. Like one of those annoying wedding videographers roaming around gathering reflections from guests on the happy couple for posterity, Wenner passed around a tape recorder to a chilling rabble of Hunter's ex-wives, bed partners, political hired guns and celebrities, and allowed them to gnaw and tear chunks from Hunter's carefully crafted public persona. The result of Wenner's cashing in, postmortem, on Hunter's talent?
"Gonzo" is autopsy-by-bacchanalia, pitifully masquerading as objective, historic truth. The few contributors to this heartless enterprise to come off well are Jack Nicholson, Jimmy Buffett, Johnny Depp and Hunter's amazingly resilient son, Juan. (Depp wrote the introduction, a funny, moving and brilliant homage to his close friend. Too bad it had to be published in this book.)
Wenner likely has sold the movie rights to this LIED (literary improvised explosive device) and so continues to feed on Hunter's celebrated carcass.
Little did Hunter know when the Hells Angels were kicking the cr-p out of him while he was writing the book that made him famous, that compared with what Wenner et al. has done to him in "Gonzo," the Hells Angels incident was like a big group hug.
There's an old saying: You get the biographer you deserve. But despite his notorious excesses, Hunter S. Thompson didn't deserve Jann Wenner.
Love, Dad
Book Review: Jann's Antithesis Summary: 2 Stars
It's very convenient to say that Hunter killed himself and his career by indulging in drugs and his own personality, but this kind of regurgitated Faustian tragedy is exactly the kind of storybook Fear that Hunter always raged against.
Much has been said about the "decline" of Hunter's writing, but writing was only one facet of Hunter's career, and until the last few years of his life, it had become strikingly clear that he was more interested in doing other things and writing took a backseat as a hobby. Not to mention numerous medical problems unrelated to his drug use such as arthritis and several surgeries that had left him barely able to walk, let alone type.
Whatever the reason--boredom, his ardent political activism, or his own admitted laziness, he seemed to have made a semi-conscious decision to leave writing as a serious career back in the 80s, though it remained his bread and butter.
Drugs and self-indulgence are very easy scapegoats, because they're far easier to think about than our own mortality and physical decline. After all, Hunter's life scared people, many of whom were his friends, and it's very convenient for them to point to one thing or the other as some sort of downfall, rather than seeing old age as what it can be: painful, debilitating, and for Hunter, Fun.
The narrative that Jann and many other ideological opponents that Hunter's legacy has left behind here is insidious in its malicious and stupid intent. His death itself cannot be judged--the man lived his life, and then he chose when to end it. I feel embarrassed for Jann, who, in my eyes, will always live in Hunter's shadow (along with his many imitators). Though I felt some love while reading this book, the primary feeling I sensed is a jealous negativity--as if Hunter's lifestyle was some sort of great experimental thesis, and this would be the antithesis.
As for his end, it's simply not for us to judge. If there is a catastrophe here, it's that his death made it easier for mooches like this to bookend his life so mindlessly like some awful anti-drug commercial. But that's not his weakness, it's theirs.
Hunter had a dark side, as we all do. The difference was that he chose to embrace the good with the bad, unafraid. No matter what others would have us believe, his (indeed) tragic death had little to do with the quality of his work or his personality. Fear, however, has everything to do with this disgusting interpretation of his life.
For a positive CELEBRATION of Hunter's life and legacy, read Anita Thompson's book. One senses after reading these biographies that she's the only one who truly understood what he was standing for: Freedom, Intelligence, Fun. Scary, isn't it...?
Book Review: Do you really want to know the ugly truth? Summary: 5 Stars
I'm of two minds about this book. Hunter gave his life keeping Raoul Duke and the Gonzo image alive. Is it fair to draw back the curtain and peer into the wings after the last act? I don't know. I am a huge fan of Hunter's writing, and that is what is important. That's what Hunter would want us to cherish and remember. His brilliant prose did not come easily, it was crafted carefully, and arduously. All great writers benefit from great editing and criticism. Jann was a part of the process and seeks proper recognition for his efforts toward that end. Without Jann, and Rolling Stone, who knows what would have become of Hunter. Many wanted to believe that Raoul Duke was real, that he could just keep on tripping, forever young, and indestructible. Hunter Thompson was an addict, an alcoholic, a narcissist, and a user in every sense of the word. He was a troubled soul and an extraordinarily difficult person. His life was filled with enablers. Could he have written without them? Could he have stopped using? Sadly, his fans were his greatest suppliers, free drugs pushed at the addict from every direction, an impossible situation. I found it hard to read this and not feel we had all been complicit in his destruction by applauding his self-immolation. Would Hunter have wanted us to read this book? I don't think so. This book shows him to be just a pathetic and pitiful addict as a man, with all that entails. I want to remember the incredible talent and brilliance, not the clown act, or the drug addict/alcoholic, or the narcissist who was cruel and manipulative to most of those near to him. If you really want to know, read the book. Otherwise, read Hunter's work, and leave the man to rest in peace.
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