HUNTER S. THOMPSON & NEW JOURNALISM
Hunter Stockton Thompson (July 18, 1937 – February 20, 2005), Kentucky-born, Air Force veteran, dedicated to journalism early on, was a storyteller who incorporated anthropological approaches to his journalistic fieldwork. He perceived the truth that a story about others depended on the self at the desk writing the story. How much, how honestly, and how overtly that self is recognized in the story is critical, Thompson felt, and he wasn’t shy about saying so. He is the founder of New Journalism, what he called “gonzo journalism,” which is an ongoing experiment in narrative in which the writer is a central character and thereby a participant in what is related or described.
Thompson’s influence is staggering to this day. Not only the obvious comrades in the field — Jimmy Breslin, Truman Capote, Joan Didion, David Halberstam, Pete Hamill, Norman Mailer, Joe McGinniss, George Plimpton, Rex Reed, Mike Royko, Terry Southern, Gail Sheehy, Gay Talese, Dan Wakefield, and Tom Wolfe — but fiction writers, too, paid attention to the possibilites of what Thompson articulated.
Thompson is an essential American moral voice in its literature, a description that would probably make him laugh, but consider the evaluation an Air Force officer wrote in giving Thompson his honorable discharge: "In summary, this airman, although talented, will not be guided by policy. Sometimes his rebel and superior attitude seems to rub off on other airmen staff members.” Classic description of the role of the writer in American literature.
In developing this page, associated New Journalism writers will be added, both those contemporary to Thompson and those who operate in his legacy.
Music for Chameleons
Music for Chameleons
In these gems of reportage Truman Capote takes true stories and real people and renders them with the stylistic brio we expect from great fiction. Here we encounter an exquisitely preserved Creole aristocrat sipping absinthe in her Martinique salon; an enigmatic killer who sends his victims announcements of their forthcoming demise; and a proper Connecticut householder with a ruinous obsession for a twelve-year-old he has never met. And we meet Capote himself, who, whether he is smoking with his cleaning lady or trading sexual gossip with Marilyn Monroe, remains one of the most elegant, malicious, yet compassionate writers to train his eye on the social fauna of his time.