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A review by jakewritesbooks
Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72 by Hunter S. Thompson
4.0
(4.5) Vanessa Grigoridas once described Gawker as "the rage of the creative underclass." That might have been true once upon a time; it had long since ceased as an accurate description before the site's unfortunate end. I don't think Gawker is the spiritual heir to Hunter S. Thompson but that quote popped into my mind while reading this book. The full force of the man's misanthropy is out in the open, bleating with irreverence on a subject that we pretend to be reverent about despite its evils: politics.
Thompson's work here is good and detailed but never better than the first half when he covers the Democratic primary. Deeply in the tank for insurgent candidate Senator George McGovern, the writer spews his 60s-influenced bile over all of the other hacks running for the nomination, including party favorite Ed Muskie and career bridesmaid Hubert Humphrey, deriding them as products of same nasty system that produced his arch-nemesis Richard Nixon. He covers the campaign adroitly, summing up much of the national mood towards the fractured Democratic party and revels with glee as the heavies go down one-by-one, leaving McGovern standing. Thompson was also good at covering what made George Wallace such an effective candidate. I wish he had spent more time on Shirley Chisholm's groundbreaking run, and maybe he would have had he not been so hard up for McGovern. And his interviews on the backroom dealing to seal the McGovern nomination, including intentionally losing South Carolina to manipulate the vote count and ticking off the feminists who refused to stand for him, was fascinating. No matter how idealistic you are, you'll never feel the same way about any political party as an institution.
Thompson seems to self-destruct at the same time McGovern does, first with the Eagleton disaster and then marching forward. Like the others, he is stunned at the landslide defeat. I wasn't a huge fan of those sections, some of which Thompson couldn't even write because he was so drug-addled but it picks up well at the end when he and McGovern's people are autopsying the race, blaming it on Eagleton, Republican racism, Nixon's lying, McGovern's turn to the center and other things. The deck was so stacked against him from the beginning that Nixon didn't even have to answer for the creeping problem that Watergate became. This probably burned Thompson more than anything.
I avoided reading this for years because I find Thompson's gonzo-style to be obnoxiously self-centered but this was entertaining and enlightening, perhaps because it echoed my own dismay and cynicism with politics. It deserves the classic status that it merited and I hope to read it again some day.
Thompson's work here is good and detailed but never better than the first half when he covers the Democratic primary. Deeply in the tank for insurgent candidate Senator George McGovern, the writer spews his 60s-influenced bile over all of the other hacks running for the nomination, including party favorite Ed Muskie and career bridesmaid Hubert Humphrey, deriding them as products of same nasty system that produced his arch-nemesis Richard Nixon. He covers the campaign adroitly, summing up much of the national mood towards the fractured Democratic party and revels with glee as the heavies go down one-by-one, leaving McGovern standing. Thompson was also good at covering what made George Wallace such an effective candidate. I wish he had spent more time on Shirley Chisholm's groundbreaking run, and maybe he would have had he not been so hard up for McGovern. And his interviews on the backroom dealing to seal the McGovern nomination, including intentionally losing South Carolina to manipulate the vote count and ticking off the feminists who refused to stand for him, was fascinating. No matter how idealistic you are, you'll never feel the same way about any political party as an institution.
Thompson seems to self-destruct at the same time McGovern does, first with the Eagleton disaster and then marching forward. Like the others, he is stunned at the landslide defeat. I wasn't a huge fan of those sections, some of which Thompson couldn't even write because he was so drug-addled but it picks up well at the end when he and McGovern's people are autopsying the race, blaming it on Eagleton, Republican racism, Nixon's lying, McGovern's turn to the center and other things. The deck was so stacked against him from the beginning that Nixon didn't even have to answer for the creeping problem that Watergate became. This probably burned Thompson more than anything.
I avoided reading this for years because I find Thompson's gonzo-style to be obnoxiously self-centered but this was entertaining and enlightening, perhaps because it echoed my own dismay and cynicism with politics. It deserves the classic status that it merited and I hope to read it again some day.