Hell’s Angels – Hunter S. Thompson
“Familiarity seems to breed contempt” - Hunter S. Thompson
What a line and what a book. I’ll touch on this line a little further in but I must admit as someone who rides a motorcycle, the thrill and love for the machine are eloquently presented throughout this novel. Another one of the ‘Classics’ and I must admit I loved every bit. The opening pages detail how these men are riding along the Californian highways like Ghengis Khan on an Iron Horse, likened to huns, pillaging their way along the roads. The active comparison of the Angels to hypocritical pseudo hipsters throughout the novel is hilarious, the victims of affluence who seem to lack some common sensibility when it comes to typical street smarts. He glamourises the ‘outlaw’ lifestyle and contrasts this with the actual ‘loserish’ life most of the Angles live. Often homeless, unkempt, and rampant alcoholics these men live a vagrant lifestyle, superimposed with a fighting, tough, wild aesthetic.
The Angels are a shown threat to the bourgeois and how the medias portrayal of them is marginally different from the lives they live. The interesting note to make throughout the novel is the importance of the connection between man and machine, how without the iron steed an Angel is a caricature of an outlaw. The glorification of really confronting charges like rape and assault are prevalent throughout the book and it is one serious problem that I could find throughout. His description of these men are fascinating and the demythologisation of the gang was a fascinating point, he often will recall some media portrayal of an incident and then provide a more accurate depiction of what happened that is a far less glorified display of violence and terror.
His casualness in attitude towards violence against women, outright misogyny and outlandish racism is frightful but also a keen reflection on the time when the book was written and provides a somewhat comfort to recognise how far our own perceptions and society have progressed. Heading back to that quote now, what a powerful line. With entirely nothing really to do with the Angels and their debauchery this line struck me as a pseudo-philosophical projection. I stopped and reread it several times. I have developed an admiration for the work that it took Thompson to complete the book, with a wife and new child he pondered out for a year following the tail lights and partaking in the wild lifestyle. The novel is a great portrayal of Thompson’s ability to summarise the consequences of his own acuity, in this case the Hells Angels.
Feeling a strong 8.2/10 here, the whole time I was reading it I wanted to get home and go for a ride. :)