I don't know.. I have some ambivalent feelings about Mr. Whitmer's book on Hunter S. Thompson. On one hand I really like reading about Hunter Thompson and suppose that I myself am a kind of weird groupie when it comes to reading about him and a few other writers (I bought this one at a garage sale for 50 cents). On the other hand I really dislike reading gossipy books where the author has only a little understanding of his subject or his work and is mainly just trying to cash in on the artist's celebrity, telling second hand stories that might or might not be true. I myself am guilty of reading these little tabloid-like pieces and almost always feel dirty afterward. Especially if the subject is worthy of some respect in his artistic life and HST certainly is. Artists should be given the space they need to work through their inner struggles while sorting it all out. This requires huge amounts of slack for an artist like Thompson. But then after they die all the lies and sentimental twisted memories can come flooding out and it's all so much less embarrassing for them and for us. I do understand why Mr. Whitmer would want to do a book on HST. And his might be better than the other bios as the above reviewers say. But make no mistake, Peter Whitmer did this one to make some easy money and Hunter Thompson's name sells better a lot better than his own.

Extensive and enlightening information on Thompson's early past and influences, but overall lacks insight on the main body of his work and life. Nonetheless a compeling book and very hard to put down. Whitmer's ultimate conclusion is that Thompson is a tragic figure, unworthy of adoration. After reading this book, you may agree.

I read Thompson's collected letter's, but they are no substitute for this very well-done biography. The author is not doing literary criticism, it is true- he is doing biography. Unlike most interviews/biographies about this wonderfully unique character, he doesn't drool all over the subject. Thompson did some great work, and the persona he crafted was spectacular. This book, along with the collections of letters, makes clear what a tragedy is the result of attempting to stay on the edge for all of these years. His recent work is all recycling and incoherent parodies of himself.

HST is a wasted hull of a man and a mind. His alter ego became himself and the result was a tremendous waste of talent and creativity. The quality of HTS's correspondence in The Proud Highway makes this all the more clear. I am grateful for what he gave- it's just a shame he couldn't keep a handle on it.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was veru interesting. THe drug trips scared me but allowed me to see what goes on in the real world. I felt that the literary merit was slim to none. The book is fun of description but does not really have a plot line other than just getting high and all that jazz. The author certainly has some problems and can teach what happens when you get too strung out on drugs.

This is the worst book I've ever read. Carroll wrote a crummy work of fiction and put a few quotes in between chapters, unbelievable. I would send you my copy, but I burned it five minutes after I read it (no joke). Try Peter Whitmer's book, which is much better.

I purchased this book keep my HST collection as complete as possible. I've owned it for 3 years and have never finished reading it. I gave it 2 stars out of generosity. Get Paul Perry's book if you can, it's a 6 star book with 5 being the best.

When Hunter's friends and colleagues are reminiscing about the great man, this book takes off. When it's left to the author to ape Hunter's style (complete with embarrassing confidences shared with YOU, dear Reader), relating plainly ficticious tales of wacky hi-jinks with the good doctor, it's tedious. All things considered, you'd be better off with 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' or 'The Great Shark Hunt'.