Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
The book that partially inspired a memoir-in-progress, Faith and Loving in Las Vegas
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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is not a book one typically expects to find on the recommendation list of the average classical Christian educator. Notwithstanding the story’s prodigiously manic characters, their infamous psychedelic drug binges, and their egregiously absurd antics, Hunter S. Thompson's best known work is a profound socio-political commentary, a hallmark of cultural criticism, and not to mention a cult classic.
Published in 1971, the book was first serialized in Rolling Stone. Written in a frenetic narrative style that Thompson dubbed gonzo journalism, the book details the psychedelic, drug-fueled misadventures of its protagonist (and Thompson’s alter ego), Raoul Duke, and his attorney, Dr. Gonzo, as they embark on a chaotic trip to Las Vegas under the pretense of covering Del Webb’s desert rally, the Mint 400,1 and a district attorneys' convention on narcotics.
Thompson crafts a vivid portrayal of the American Dream in its most distorted forms by blurring the line between fact and fiction and using language that mirrors the tumultuous era it depicts. For example, his prose is electric, characterized by its wild energy and sharp, incisive wit, and loaded with hyperbole. His gonzo style creates a sense of impending doom to illustrate a society fragmented by its unfulfilled promises and lost ideals. The imagery is grotesque yet intensely vivid, painting the desert landscape and the gaudy, neon Strip of 1970s Las Vegas as backdrops to the drug-induced paranoia that drives the narrative.
Two films attempted to capture the narrative cinematically: Where the Buffalo Roam starring Bill Murray and Peter Boyle (1980) was a loose adaptation, while Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas starring Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Toro (1998) was meant to be a more explicit attempt. Neither are worth watching in my opinion.
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is not just a story about two degenerates on a drug binge in Sin City. Rather, it’s a poignant exploration of the modern American consciousness, in which Thompson grapples with the implications of what he considered the failure of the 1960s counterculture movement. The book’s true merit, however, lies in its ability to capture a moment in history where the national identity was fraught with conflict and uncertainty (i.e., the end of the Vietnam era just before the fall of Saigon).
Consider this example of Thompson’s cultural commentary nested within his character’s (Duke’s) writing about the assignment to cover the Mint 400 story in Las Vegas:
This line appears in my notebook, for some reason. Perhaps some connection with Joe Frazier. Is he still alive? Still able to talk? I watched that fight in Seattle—horribly twisted about four seats down the aisle from the Governor. A very painful experience in every way, a proper end to the sixties: Tim Leary a prisoner of Eldridge Cleaver in Algeria, Bob Dylan clipping coupons in Greenwich Village, both Kennedys murdered by mutants, Owsley folding napkins on Terminal Island, and finally Cassius/Ali belted incredibly off his pedestal by a human hamburger, a man on the verge of death. Joe Frazier, like Nixon, had finally prevailed for reasons that people like me refused to understand—at least not out loud. … But that was some other era, burned out and long gone from the brutish realities of this foul year of Our Lord, 1971. A lot of things had changed in those years. And now I was in Las Vegas as the motor sports editor of this fine slick magazine that had sent me out here in the Great Red Shark for some reason that nobody claimed to understand. “Just check it out,” they said, “and we’ll take it from there.…”2
The recurrent themes of the American Dream, disillusionment, and the quest for freedom are intertwined with a deep-seated cynicism towards authority and mainstream culture. For Thompson, Las Vegas is a symbol of American excess and moral decay, and he leverages it as a microcosm of American society on the brink of moral and social bankruptcy.
One definitely doesn’t have to agree with Thompson’s worldview to appreciate the prowess of his literary form (gonzo journalism) and the uncanny manner in which it captures the helter-skelter climate of the late 60s and early 70s.
Although my memories are somewhat limited and kind of sketchy, I came of age in and around Las Vegas directly on the heels of the period. I was named after Bobby Goldboro’s “Watching Scotty Grow,” recall waiting in long lines at the gas station during the 1970s gas crisis, voted for Jimmy Carter over Gerald Ford in our school’s mock election,3 and was still wearing bell-bottoms and horizontal stripes when The Knacks released "My Sharona."
Although I grew up under the glow of Vegas lights,4 I didn’t read Thompson’s book until 1989 or 1990, when I was already away from home and in the military. It resonated with me then in the way it might resonate with someone reading someone else’s tale about life in their hometown. It resonated with me differently when I read it again nearly twenty-or-so years later when I was back in Las Vegas pastoring a church.
It was about that time when I first noticed the huge menacing bats of my own delusion, except mine weren’t induced by drugs. They were a result of having swallowed heavy doses of American Christian fundamentalism, the kind on which a man can rid himself of the pain of being a man by making a beast of himself.5
I’ve been working on a book for some time but admittedly have a large bit of writing still ahead of me. It’s titled, Faith and Loving in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of American Fundamentalism. It’s equal parts memoir, theology, history, and philosophy written somewhat in the vein of gonzo journalism. I intend to share some excerpts for paid subscribers along the way.
The Mint 400 was an annual event for our family and one year we were situated at a particular turn out in the desert where musician, Ted Nugent, wrecked his buggy bad enough to end the race for him.
Thompson, Hunter S. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream (pp. 8-9). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Don’t judge me; how was I to know anything about politics at that age? Besides in the next mock school election, I voted for Reagan.
I lived in the city of Las Vegas in my very early childhood but moved to a bedroom farming community about 45 miles away, small enough that we had to go to town (Las Vegas) for most of our shopping, Drs. appointments, etc. I moved to town again to work for a few months before my report dated for the military.
Thompson’s epitaph for the book is a quote from Dr. Samuel Johnson: “He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.” —DR. JOHNSON. Thompson, Hunter S. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream . Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
'Faith and Loving in Las Vegas'?
Killer title.
Would love to read it!