Peter Richardson - Savage Journey: Hunter S. Thompson and the Weird Road to Gonzo

More than five decades after the publication of his first bestselling book, Hunter S. Thompson remains a cultural icon. A steady stream of publications and films have told his remarkable story, several in detail. Most of these accountswhich feature his drug and alcohol consumption, gun fetish, and fortified compoundare centered in Woody Creek, Colorado, where Thompson lived from 1966 until his suicide in 2005.

, New York Times writer David Streitfeld observed, Thompson stands in front of his work, often obscuring it.

Studies of Thompsons literary formation are especially thin on the ground. What little commentary we have is split over how, when, and where he became the author who wrote the works. Although his literary formation was a lengthy process, the evidence suggests that it was largely a San Francisco story. Like Mark Twain a century earlier, Thompson arrived in the city as an obscure journalist, thrived on its anarchic energy, and left as a national figure. Raoul Duke, Thompsons narrator in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1972), famously reflects on that time and place. that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. Five years later, Duke notes, that feeling was gone, but Thompson had finally arrived.

Toward the end of his life, Thompson confirmed that Raoul Duke spoke for him. In his introduction to the 2003 edition of Timothy Crouses The Boys on the Bus, Thompson detoured from the topic at handthe 1972 presidential campaignto reflect on his stint in San Francisco. At that time, he was surrounded by flower children with little interest in politics; even so, they presumed they would inherit the earth.

take over the world without knowing, or wanting to know, anything about politics seemed like a pipe dream to me, but I didnt mind dreaming it from time and time, and I also lived right in the middle of it for four years, and I definitely liked the neighborhood. These were my peoplealong with the Hells Angels, Ken Kesey, Bill Graham and the Fillmore Auditorium, the Golden Gate Bridge, Big Sur and all those who have ever lived there. The list is long, and I love it. San Francisco was clearly the best place in the world to be living in those years196070, to be specificand my memories of life in that purest of tornadoes still cause me to babble and jabber and dance.

Here and elsewhere, Thompson depicted his years in San Francisco, that purest of tornadoes, as a peak period. He rode with the Hells Angels, listened to Jefferson Airplane at The Matrix, and participated enthusiastically in the citys drug culture. He read Ramparts magazine, the legendary San Francisco muckraker, and wrote about Haight-Ashbury for the New York Times Magazine. His subsequent work for Rolling Stone magazine, which was founded in San Francisco after the Summer of Love, vaulted him to celebrity status.

The fact that Thompson identified his people in Crouses book is also notable. Although he is associated with Tom Wolfe, Joan Didion, and other paragons of New Journalism, he rarely presented himself as a member of any group. (The NRA was a notable exception.) And though he was a skillful literary networker, he also took care to distinguish himself from his colleagues. in high regard, but he thought its libertarian thrust affirmed a freedom and mobility of thought that few people are ableor even have the courageto achieve.

As that remark suggests, Thompson prized independence above all, but he needed help to achieve it. Like his idols, he lived far from the nations publishing capitals, and he used his correspondence to build and maintain his literary network. Taken as a whole, his letters demonstrate an extraordinary ability to charm, amuse, ingratiate, importune, threaten, and attack. That talent was not lost on editors, who frequently ran his missives in their magazines. Unspoiled by deadlines and editorial overreach, his letters to government officials, local television stations, and customer service departments rose to the level of art. One might even argue, as Thompson suggested more than once, that his correspondence was his most important work. Although his published letters represent a small fraction of that output, they also provide crucial insights into his literary formation and model of authorship.

Several assumptions inform what follows. The first has to do with Thompsons collaborators. Although he was a rare talent, skilled editors shaped his output and career at virtually every stage. Carey McWilliams, the only editor whom Thompson unhesitatingly admired, gave Thompson the story idea for his first bestselling book. Warren Hinckle, whom Thompson called the best conceptual editor he ever worked with, helped birth Gonzo journalism at Scanlans Monthly. Jann Wenner, whose feeling for the zeitgeist was an essential part of Thompsons success, did more than anyone to promote Thompson and his work. James Silberman, Alan Rinzler, David Rosenthal, and Marysue Ricci developed Thompsons bestselling books at Random House, Straight Arrow Books, Bantam, and Simon & Schuster. In what follows, I pay particular attention to the roles these and other editors played in Thompsons evolution as a writer.

Thompsons key collaborator, however, was Ralph Steadman. Although Gonzo journalism is synonymous with Thompsons output from 1970 on, Steadmans illustrations were an indispensable part of its success. Thompson always understood this point, though it is frequently neglected by critics and commentators. By supplementing Thompsons fantastical prose with powerful visual corollaries, Steadman shaped the reception of Gonzo journalism from the outset. Accordingly, I explore the potent combination of verbal and visual elements in their collaborations, trace the arc of their working relationship, and consider the extent to which Thompson drew on the illustrations for his own inspiration.