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I like 19th century classics. I like chick lit. I like happy ending stories. (Yes, I’m female!) But sometimes I want something different. Hunter S. Thompson is/was different. Fear and loathing in Las Vegas is hilarious and would probably get a place among my top 10 favourite American novels – if I ever was to make such a list. I’ve recently ordered The curse of Lono to the library, a book originally published in 1983. The eccentric stories of Thompson in combination with Ralph Steadman’s illustrations almost make it a work of art. The biggest problem with this book is it’s size. (You’ll find it among the folio books at the library.) It’s definitely not the kind of book you take with you when you go somewhere. It’s almost too big to be read in bed. It’s the sort of book you spend together with a comfortable sofa and a bowl of your favourite snack. According to the jacket, “The curse of Lono is to Hawaii what Fear and Loathing was to Las Vegas: the crazy tales of a journalist’s “coverage” of a news event that ends up being a wild ride to the dark side of Americana.” What more can I say? Hawaiian myth, drugs and foul weather - definitely not the kind of book that makes you want to visit Hawaii.
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