The first I heard of
Hunter S Thompson was February 20 2005 - the day that the self-appointed Dr of Gonzo Journalism took a shotgun to his head and ended his life with a bang. In the days following his death the newspapers ran stories of his life and writings and I grew to like the man I was reading about despite his many flaws, or perhaps because of them.
It was a year or two later that I happened upon a copy of
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream and I read it with gusto (a gusto approaching Hunter's own when setting to inhale 10+ lines of cocaine at breakfast*.) I'm not saying anything new by describing the book as brilliant celebration of chaos in the face of order and I thoroughly enjoyed it . I have since re-read Fear and Loathing as well as a recent biography on his life, and have started trawling through his back catalogue - I'm almost done with
The Rum Diary and have
Hells Angels waiting in the wings.
My response to his writing, and the accounts of his life in the biography has been interesting - to me at least. Reading tales of nomadic wandering, drug and drink fuelled pondering, the desire to unlock what it is that makes people and places tick and the idea that anything is possible given the right circumstances and state of mind has been a great influence to someone who wants to put words on paper in some sort of an order and with some sort of a meaning.
Hunter had talent, and talent is the foundation for success no matter what. Hard work definitely helps, but all the hard work in the world totals two-thirds of nothing if there is limited talent to apply it to. Hunter also had an ability to put himself in situations that provided him with ample inspiration and subject matter to explore. Lucky for Hunter his exploits were often on the coin of a newspaper or magazine and somewhere in between waking and oblivion he managed to pen some amazing words. For someone striving to create it can be disheartening to read inspirational tales and imagine the social and political environment that fostered them. Domesticity, parenthood and responsibility are all fine and dandy, but they rarely provide more than scant inspiration for epic tales. Office work is nothing but debilitating, but the spoils aren't and so it holds you there. It is difficult to find the balance and make the compromises.
I'm not quite sure where this rant is going. Oh yes, I remember now where I was headed. Being ensconced in all things Hunter, his life, and his writing lately has caused me to occasionally - either consciously or subconsciously - for want of a better descriptor: 'channel' aspects of him. For an assessment piece for my creative writing unit at school I had to write a short-story (something I had never done previous) and I found it really hard to break out of my usual light-hearted and overly descriptive writing style. To help escape this I tried to keep the following thought at the top of my mind and hope it travelled down to my typing fingers: how would someone with the insight and wit if Hunter S write this passage? I found it helped a lot. The same technique has provided similar assistance during the initial stages of a couple of scripts I am writing. Some not-so-helpful channelling involved more than a fair portion of a litre of Wild Turkey and ended with me relieving myself in a friend's guest-room cupboard.
You win some, you lose some, but hopefully it all proves useful at some point or another.
* the nutritionists amongst you need not worry... it wasn't just coke: he maintained a regular breakfast that included 2 pots of coffee, 6 beers, bacon, eggs, and grapefruits before settling in to the powder.
