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Hunter S. ThompsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
When reflecting on the possibility that he might be caught and sent to prison, Raoul recalls how he had once interviewed a group of incarcerated individuals for The New York Times. As he says, “they wanted their stories told” (75). But the article never appeared. This was because, he explains, “The lead paragraphs I wrote for that article didn’t satisfy some editor three thousand miles away—some nervous drone behind a grey formica desk in the bowels of a journalistic bureaucracy” (76). This story in many ways sums up what Thompson sees as wrong with conventional journalism. It spurns the direct stories and experiences of outsiders, like incarcerated individuals. Instead, it delegates the power to decide what can be said about such things, and about life in general, to spirit-less, distant authorities who have no real connection to the issues. Something similar is seen in Raoul’s parody of a Life article about the Mint 400. As he says, “LAS VEGAS AT DAWN- The racers are still asleep, the dust is still on the desert, $50,000 in prize money slumbers darkly in the office safe at Del Webb’s fabulous Mint hotel... And our Life team is here (as always, with a sturdy police escort…) (57).
Such writing and “journalism” tries to create the impression of depth or profundity. It presents itself as being in touch with the emotional heart of the event. In reality, though, beneath the self-important style, nothing is being reported. It is merely a dull relaying of objective facts about prize money and location. Worse, it is protected from any interaction with real events or action by complicity with authority. These journalists, to eliminate any personal risk, are dependent on and beholden to the very establishment forces they should be scrutinizing. This is bad enough when it is in relation to general news. It is catastrophic, however, when it comes to reporting about drugs and drug culture. Throughout Fear and Loathing, many examples of newspaper headlines are given to demonstrate this point. One says, “An overdose of heroin was listed as the official cause of death for pretty Diane Hamby, 19” (72). Another explains how, “a House Subcommittee report says illegal drugs killed 160 American GI’s last year- 40 of them in Vietnam” (73). And, most disturbingly, a headline states that “SURGERY UNCERTAIN/ AFTER EYES REMOVED” (101-102). This article refers to a man who had taken an overdose of animal tranquilizer and gouged out his own eyes.
The problem with these articles and the style of journalism they represent, when it comes to drugs, is manifold. As in the case of the incarcerated individuals and the Mint 400, no space is given to the experience of taking drugs and being a drug user. While they evince a morbid fascination with the worst consequences of drug use, they make no attempt to understand why someone would do this or the culture of which it is a part. The articles also do not bother to distinguish between types of drugs or the different experiences they provoke. Instead, all drugs are lumped together. Ignoring any desire to report the truth, “drugs” become merely part of a sensationalist, moralizing agenda to discourage deviance from established values. This is why Thompson was drawn toward Gonzo journalism. Gonzo encourages the journalist to experience and participate in the stories they are covering. It is also why, to get to the heart of drug culture, Raoul takes “almost every type of drug known to civilized man” (188), including the adrenal gland extract which nearly kills him.
After dropping Gonzo off at the airport for the second time, Raoul reflects on a neighbor of his. This man, a long-haired “totally harmless” (173) drifter “got curious about Vegas and decided to have a look at it. Just passing through, strolling along and digging the sights on the Strip” (173). He stopped to look at the fountain outside the Circus-Circus when he was arrested for vagrancy. Without any formal charge being made or access to a lawyer, he was then forced to strip naked in a room full of police officers and other prisoners, before being thrown into a windowless cell. As he recalls, “They had seventy-five guys in each cell- big rooms with a toilet bowl out in the middle” (175), and he was there for a whole week, until he managed to get bailed out by his father. This all transpired for the “crime” of having only $20 rather than $25, the minimal limit there to avoid charges of “vagrancy”.
As this story suggests, Thompson’s view of the police in Fear and Loathing is a dim. In his view, they victimize and humiliate people simply for being non-conventional. They arrest others for harmlessly enjoying themselves, as in the case of marijuana use. And they wield their authority with petty and often sadistic abandon. Unsurprisingly, then, the police become the object of satire in the novel. First, there is the scene with the hotel clerk. When arguing with an officer about being moved to another hotel, the clerk thinks, “It doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong, man… or who’s paid his bill and who hasn’t… what matters right now is that for the first time in my life I can work out on a pig” (106). For once the police officer is given a taste of his own medicine. In a comic inversion of reality, the officer is subject to the same petty abuse of power to which he has subjected others.
So too are the police ridiculed for their lack of knowledge about drugs and drug culture. As Raoul says, “These poor bastards didn’t know mescaline from macaroni” (143). They accept as fact “dangerous gibberish” (139), like the notion that the cannabis user “will attack, for no reason, with every weapon at his command,” and hence, in apprehending them officers “should use all necessary force immediately” (139). This ignorance and groundless stereotyping legitimizes police brutality. At the same time, it opens the police to further mockery and to being deceived. This is seen when Gonzo uses police hysteria about cannabis to make an officer believe a series of bizarre and terrifying stories. For example, he says that users “work in pairs… Sometimes in gangs. They’ll climb into your bedroom and sit on your chest, with big Bowie knives” (145). The police are subject to the very monsters they have created in their imaginations. Yet for the same reason, they never come close to catching them. Their inability to understand drug culture means they will never be able to stop it, a fact symbolized by their failure to notice or apprehend Raoul and Gonzo.
After taking ether and being ejected from the Debbie Reynolds show, Raoul tries to enter the Circus-Circus. The drug at this point has caused him to lose all control of his body and speech. As he describes it, “You misjudge the distance to the turnstile and slam against it, bounce off and grab hold of an old woman to keep from falling… My name is Brinks; I was born… born?” (45) Clearly, for his own and others’ welfare he should not be let in. But he is allowed through anyway. As Raoul says, “In this town they love a drunk. Fresh meat” (46). Las Vegas encourages drunkenness and loss of control because it makes people easier to exploit. Those who are intoxicated and have diminished reasoning powers are more likely to risk and spend big in the casinos. At the same time, gambling encourages a further loss of control. As seen in Raoul’s story of a man who got into “mainline gambling” (42) and ended up thirty thousand dollars in debt, gambling is addictive and can develop a momentum of its own. Thus, alcohol, drugs, and gambling form part of a mutually supporting vicious cycle.
However, it would be wrong to say that the customers, let alone Raoul and Gonzo, are pure victims here. Part of the thrill of gambling and of drugs is precisely in losing control. It is the pleasure both of loosening the constraints of reason and responsibility and of not quite knowing what will happen. This is the case with gambling, where one’s fate is ceded to the intangible forces of luck. More extremely, it is seen when Raoul takes adrenochrome from a human adrenal gland. He puts his body and his life in the hands of a drug of intense and unknown ferocity. As he says, “every muscle in my body was contracted. I couldn’t even move my eyeballs…not even my lungs seemed to be functioning. I needed artificial respiration, but I couldn’t open my mouth to say so” (133). This is the extreme thrill, experienced in Russian roulette, of not knowing whether something will actually kill you. It is also present when Raoul engages in a near suicidal maneuver with the Whale, driving at high speed over a ditch to get onto a runway and almost flipping the car over in the process.
One of the enduring questions and problems of Fear and Loathing is whether it is possible to flirt with danger and madness without being consumed by them. To succeed at this, as Raoul says, means to tread “that fine and fateful line between control and disaster” (89). The only problem is that one is continually tempted to move ever closer to the latter.
By Hunter S. Thompson