The lesioned and cigarette-burned underbelly of the American Dream is swerving through the desert, 100 miles an hour, fueled on drug lust, blood lust and everything in between. After all, “There is no sympathy for the devil. Buy the ticket, take the ride.”
The novel “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” by Hunter Thompson blurs the line between reality and drug-induced paranoia. As journalist Raoul Duke and his attorney Dr. Gonzo, the protagonists, make their way to Las Vegas to cover the Mint 400 motorcycle race, their hallucinations mold the reader’s way through an adventure poking holes into our notion of the “American Dream.” The reader is left in a state of distortion nearly to the extent of the intoxicated protagonist as they trudge across bloodied casino floors and have conversations with people who begin to look like lizards. This surrealist and brutalized Gonzo journalistic book-turned-movie carries clear undertones relating to the attitude of America at the time. In this novel, it is 1971. “Hippie” is the worst insult someone can say to someone, the War on Drugs begins and the Manson Murders have America in a chokehold. As the preexisting culture is upheaved, conservatives begin to question the validity of the American Dream.
The traditional idea of “rags to riches” seems like an American ideal — anyone can do anything or be anything with hard work. However, the author of “Fear and Loathing” not only challenges this, but attacks the less-considered other side of this American Dream. In this book, there are multiple times where this “rags to riches” idea is challenged. Circus-Circus, a casino in Las Vegas where parts of the book are set, shows time and time again that house always wins. The environment feeds off of financial loss and those more likely to win, or able to put their stakes into the games, are well off to begin with. The owner of Circus-Circus dreamed of running off with the circus when he was younger. Now, he technically does own his own ‘freak show’ making its fortune off stealing from others. This is a repeated theme, as odds are held by the prestigious people, the 1%.
The American Dream is not only reserved for the elite, however. Duke repeatedly makes comments about his attorney and partner in crime, Gonzo, who is not white.
“You Samoans are all the same. You have no faith in the essential decency of the white man’s culture,” said Duke.
Duke reinforces an undertone of the American Dream: Only white people can appreciate it and in that, only white elite men can achieve it in this new counterculture.
The clearest and ugliest depictions of the dark Thompson representation of American ideals, however, is the theme of excess.
In a world where more is better, and capitalism is idealistic utopia, Duke spends the entirety of the book displaying greed and eccentric excess. He sets out on his trip with luggage full of drugs and liquor. Duke says that there is no conceivable way he and Gonzo abuse substances to that extent, yet they continued the collection simply because they could. Again, the narrator points out that Duke has 600 bars of soap. He does not need it, but once again since he could have it, he might as well take everything. Even more generally, Duke is in Las Vegas in order to work on a very professional journalism report, yet he spends every moment intoxicated to the point of insanity. Why? Because he can. The author points out that Las Vegas is a smaller replica of American ideals — sin city. Even when Duke and Gonzo are overwhelmed with fear and hate fueled by bad highs, they continue their near-overdose. The overconsumption of drugs and liquor is not only a direct link to the ‘war on drugs’ or the drug counterculture of the 60s and 70s, but a portrayal of what American values can look like on the darker side.
“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” is a pop culture cornerstone and a massively experimental work in narratology and how it is written. The themes Thompson presses are clear. Duke is seeing the traditions around him burn with the counterculture movement and values that were once norms being crushed. He begins to see how the American Dream has been rigged. Duke can see the world running off of exploitation, stealing and excess. But Duke is not there to turn over moral judgment or save others. After all, he is the same American sinner and degenerate as everyone else:
“I’m a f*****g sinner! Venal, mortal, carnal, major, minor — however you want to call it, Lord… I’m guilty.”
