Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas is the semi-autobiographical account of Hunter S Thompson and his friend, the political-activist and attorney, Oscar Zeta Acosta. It chronicles the two's drug induced visits to Nevada in March and April of 1971. Originally published over two parts in Rolling Stone magazine, Fear and Loathing has rightly come to be regarded as the author’s pinnacle achievement as well as a vital document that helped jump-start Thompson's gonzo journalism legacy.
With the Republicans in the White House, and as Thompson points out, it's no surprise The 1970s began with Heroin as the drug of choice. The radical sub-cultures that coloured the 1960s are now a distant memory. That once optimistic decade burnt out alongside LSD crazed hippie enthusiasm: “It is worth noting, historically,” Thompson dryly remarks, “that downers came in with Nixon.”
Working for Sports Illustrated magazine Raoul Duke (Thompson), is summoned to Las Vegas to cover the Mint 500, a free-for-all dirt-bike race. Armed with a boot-load of narcotics, booze and a .357 magnum they soon abandon the race and are gorging on cocktails of mind-bending substances. Insteaf Duke and his Samoan attorney Dr Gonzo begin a drink and drug fuelled trip to Vegas, now in the vague hope of uncovering the ‘American Dream’ – whatever that may be.
Las Vegas is the perfect location for the book: a symbol of American vulgarity and consumerism - loud and brash and repulsive: “This is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted.”
Throughout the mayhem they terrify a young hitch-hiker and become embroiled with the police, tourists, casino and hotel employees. More carnage ensues when a drugged-up Duke is called to cover a Cop convention on narcotics, observing first hand the police's hysteria and delusion when the book boils over into some bizarre psychedelic farce.
Throughout Fear and Loathing as the reader you're never wholly certain on what events are real and what events are hallucinations. Artist Ralph Steadman provides - a now iconic, harrowing accompaniment to the proceedings with his unique monochrome illustrations that capture the nausea and despair of Duke and his attorney’s twisted visions.
“It was dangerous lunacy, but it was also the kind of thing a real connoisseur of edge-work could make an argument for. Where, for instance, was the last place the Las Vegas police would look for a drug-addled fraud-fugitive who just ripped off a downtown hotel? Right in the middle of a National District Attorneys’ Drug Conference at an elegant hotel on the strip…”
