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Ugh. I think this book is highly overrated, but maybe that's just my distaste for plotless roadtrip books. That said, I rated Lolita quite highly, but that actually seemed to do something more than just "we did these drugs and then these ones and then there was this girl and oh look, a bunny". There were funny bits, I'll admit, but overall it was like Cormac McCarthy took some drugs, lightened up a little and went on a roadtrip to Vegas.

Vladimir Nabokov throws in beautiful poetry and depicts and the America of a certain period through eyes skewed by a twisted mind. And he does it well. In this novel, Hunter S. Thompson uses self-indulgent shock-factor images to depict America in a certain period through eyes (and a mind) skewed by drugs, but somehow it's less effective. Maybe I just don't find drugs interesting enough.

Meh.