The author uses problematic descriptors of minoritized groups, and while it is hard to tell if this is his chosen language or merely his conveyance of the Pranksters' chosen language, it's problematic and uncomfortable nevertheless. White, heterosexual, cis men are at the forefront of this book and seemingly this historical moment. These men are generally difficult to like. I did appreciate some of the symbolism and patterns, which I would not have recognized had this book not been for a class. Who knew nonfiction could have symbolism? I also appreciated how the writing tone varied, and always fit the tone of the scene very well. That was impressive on Wolfe's part. I can't agree with Wolfe or this book as a revolutionary moment in journalism/writing, but maybe if I had read it at the time of publication I would? But it didn't totally suck. 2.5 stars.

On the bus or off the bus?

The trolley glided along the tracks. Hovering, floating, flying. The ticket checker, his name tag read Mitchell, had the head of a warthog. “Feed the bee”, he said. :::: “What?” Jeff seemed trapped in a powerful time space vortex. His hands looked rubbery, like Plastic. Plastic Man. But drawn by a meth freak. A bunny, half-gold, half-silver, Day Glo halo, blood dripping from its fangs. “Feed the bee”, she said. “Feed it now! It’s hungry.” Jeff turned to the other passengers. “I just want to grok”, he thought, but the passengers turned toward him. Sensing his thoughts. They started to howl. Are they howling because they’re pixilated, speckled like a Seurat.? “You should have tried the strawberry Kool Aid. You have choices.” CONTROL. CONTROOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL! Outside the trolley, flying monkeys were flinging sugar cubes at Ma&Pa&Buddy&Sis. Paul is dead. Just go with the flow. ::::: Dog plaster was oozing from the roof. It was red and slimy. Slimy. Cassady is there. Played by Nick Nolte. He’s juggling a toaster. He’s the oracle. He’s the big, eye on top of the pyramid.

More than half of this book was written like a faux LSD trip. This kind of rambling prose is about as thrilling and contemporary as a Peter Max drawing or a Nehru jacket. If you can get past this – it’s challenging – and you’re interested in the transition from unwashed Beatnick to unwashed Hippie, which is facilitated by Ken Kesey via psychedelic drugs, then this is the book for you. Groove to acid tests, self-absorbed hippies, squalor for the sake of squalor – soundtrack provided by The Grateful Dead (don’t get me started on them).

Wolfe’s archness, think The Right Stuff or The Painted Word (infinitely better books) takes a beating after about thirty pages of this stuff. He might have been the Daddy to New Journalism but he was Hunter S. Thompson's bitch.

Also, Wolfe like a young Norman Mailer, doesn’t know how to spell the word “fug”.

On the bus or off the bus? I’ll drive my car, thanks, but first a good de-lousing.

Recommended listening:

For a fun psychedelic album (and kids there aren't many): The Small Faces - Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake

For an album that skewers the hippies: The Mothers of Invention – We’re Only in it for the Money

I had no idea about the sort of person Ken Kesey was; the only frame of reference I had was his novel "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." This book, or epic journalistic adventure by Tom Wolfe, chronicles Kesey's adventures after the publishing of his first two books (the other "Sometimes a Great Notion," had just been finished).

Kesey had been involved in CIA sponsored drug tests, which included such recreational fun things as LSD, mescalin and cocaine. The CIA knows how to party! The Merry Pranksters, Kesey's traveling/living/family/drug experimentation group, are a major player in this story. Their giant psychedelic bus, called Further, makes a trip to NYC for the World's Fair and a disappointing pilgrimage to see Timothy Leary and his clan. The book follows them back to La Honda in California, where the large acid test parties really start taking off......with Hell's Angels! And Ginsberg! Even the Grateful Dead!

Crazy, day-glo painted people and things (sometimes Kesey in a spacesuit), tripping for hours and hours. The comparison to a new religion/way of consciousness (or even a cult) that Wolfe makes is an astute one. A charismatic leader such as Kesey somehow could bring in extremely rough and dangerous Hell's Angels as well as new age christian leaders from large Californian sects.

Be prepared for stream of consciousness style writing, and sometimes straight up just weird ass poetry. Quite frankly some of the material was either over my head or totally wacked out. I read about a fourth of the book the other night to finish it, and dreamed I was on my own acid trip, which included a Phish show and a wedding. So, did I find a new level of consciousness? No.....is it weirdos like Ken Kesey who may have the right idea? Possibly.

I was assigned to read this book in college(1975). I couldn't finish it, it seemed to be so....poorly written. I tried again this year as I've just reread Kesey's books and On the Road. This book focuses on a bus trip organized by Ken Kesey and driven by Neal Cassidy(the real Dean Moriaty in On the Road shortly after Kesey finished Sometimes a Great Notion--and the bus ride is basically one long acid trip.
I read it this time- more as an interesting history of compelling characters from a fascinating time, the only drawback being that it is so...poorly written.
But a compelling story made more interesting by so many characters becoming much more famous since the book was written. It bridges Neal Cassidy, think of the Beat Generation of the 50's driving to Larry McMurtrey's house(think Lonesome Dove). You meet Hunter Thompson and his articles on the Hell's Angels and then meet the Grateful Dead who started off as a house band for the Electric Kool Aid tests(LSD parties)
Interesting read but so many things bothered me. Essentially glorifies the Hell's Angels a group of people who rape and rob and ridicules a group of Unitarians whose only sin appears to be that they are too earnest in wanting peace and helping others. The description of the Merry Pranksters walking out of a Beatles concert was supposed to be a statement about crowd infatuation with the Beatles, but I couldn't help wonder if it was because Kesey couldn't stand not being the center of attention.
Wolfe's telling of how Kesey's speech to an anti war rally supports Wolfe's cynicism about anyone who tries to actually change our country, but I couldn't help that it was easy for Kesey to deceive anti war activists and then ridicule them as a wrestling injury allowed him to avoid the draft.
Anyway, the book did make me think, it was an interesting story and did evoke the times but I finished glad that Wolfe's 1960's style of writing (New Journalism) did not catch on and wishing that Kesey's LSD use and other values hadn't kept him from writing more books like Sometimes a Great Notion and One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest.

I think this should have been half the length. Most pages seemed as though Tom Wolfe was simply describing some seventies hippy picture in as much detail as possible. It would have been more effective if he just showed me the picture.

What a trip!

This was a bizarre book and a fun read. It's the story of Ken Kesey (author of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest) and his band of Merry Pranksters.

I got into the writing styles fairly quickly - and there are quite a few different styles in the book. At the start of each chapter I'd think - And what are the Pranksters up to now? At one point, I rented the Magic Trip documentary done in 2011 so I could put faces with names and that was very interesting. I didn't quite grok what exactly the Acid Test was for, but that's okay, I just wasn't into the pudding.

I learned quite a bit about the 60's that I didn't know or only had a vague idea about. I may not be on the bus but I did enjoy the ride.

This is the only thing by Tom Wolfe that I have read so far, but I will read more. I could actually read this book twice.

I read this book ---
and 'The Right Stuff' when a 'yoga friend, (no less), recommend I read 'Tom Wolfe' (Before knowing of Goodreads).

Being older --late to the party (never considered this book when I actually lived in Berkeley attending Cal during the early 70's), -- what I enjoyed most about 'both' this book and 'The Right Stuff' was the historical trip down memory lane of a culture that comes around once in a lifetime.

Tom Wolfe is another one of those talented odd balls. (funny-witty-crazy). What's not to like? (a small diet of Tom Wolfe is as good for the soul as an hour of Vinyasa Flow).

Its all about 'balance'!

These nut-jobs actually came to Houston with their bus and parked it two doors down from my best friend in Houston. Around 1969, moon, Led Zeppelin touring, people taking LSD and sitting on the hill in Hermann Park staring at the sun. My older brother and sister would drag me along to look at the "hippies" ... then the next day in the paper would be another story of a young Houston man who had become blind forever by roasting his retinas with pupils wide open looking at the sun. Guess I should have given him my shades.

Ken Kesey and the "Merry Pranksters" are the subject of this real-life look into the lifestyle of California hippies , commune living, and all those weird things you kids have heard of happening in the sixties.
Well, The weekend they were in Houston, Ken Kesey (a benign Manson) went to the stadium where a day-long concert of the summer (Jefferson Airplane, Country Joe and the Fish, Quicksilver Messenger Service ... blah blah) was happening and again I was in tow by my older brother and sister, Kathy.
This guy Kesey was there to entertain between sets, a true to life Haight-Asbury scene. At one point, he asked everyone to jump in synchronicity , I thought to feel the stadium rumble for a few seconds, but looking back he may have been trying to cause the thing to collapse! Hell, HE was on the field, as was the stage. I was gonna be the one to die, not him.
Finally, he asked everyone to take a deep breath and let it out slowly as a loud hiss. Again take a breath and hiss. Again... again... over and over we were all seated and I was feeling light headed. Finally he says 'Take one more, deeper than any other, and as you breathe in, stand up and stretch as far as you can and as hard as you can. I remember I did this, and as I stood, I stretched and suddenly everything was going dark ... then wham! I hit the dirt, fainted. I had never fainted before. As I awoke, I noticed EVERYONE IN THIS 70+ THOUSAND SEAT STADIUM WAS ON THE GROUND ... having also fainted. He was indeed a prankster. Hippies.... if you want to know (why?) what it was REALLY like to be around hippies constantly ... read this.

excerpt from a history paper I wrote on this book, which I posted to dcbooks:



"While the book doesn’t hold answers, it is a great read for anyone who has ever been part of a subculture. It puts the story out there in a way that is honest and fair, showing not just the idealism, but also the grime and the violence and the difficulties of rebellion against the norm and the inherent dangers in basing a movement on a mind altering drug. It might be easy to reject the story as a tale of mistaken adventures of the past, but only out of context from the things which came next. The garden that Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters planted was set in very fertile ground. This group changed portions of the world forever. From their ideas came the rave scene, the flash mob scene, the multimedia party scene, psychedelic art, and more. They had planted a garden where plants are still mutating and changing today. Many of those movements spawned from their ideas have also died away and been forgotten, but those have spawned yet more movements and new ideas. It’s a marathon run of freaks, taking the torch and still heading on and on toward “FURTHUR” and to the next set of mysteries."

DNF 47%
It is baffling how such an interesting subject matter can be made so dull simply through choice of prose. And that is the main accomplishment of Tom Wolfe here, as he took the topic of Ken Kesey, the Merry Pranksters, and fledgling time of the hippie movement, traveling cross country in a florescently dayglo painted school bus, ingesting more LSD and a panoply of other drugs than would be considered reasonable by even experienced users, and Mr Wolfe managed to make it dreadfully boring. I would be impressed if I wasn't so disappointed.

The salient points of my criticism

1. Misguided prose
This makes or breaks the quality of a work for me. And the way this prose was written was in a winding and drolling stream of consciousness style. Wolfe seemingly wrote this in a style where he is attempting to mimic the feeling of an acid trip, and the way he additionally messes with typography and punctuation to try get this affect is interesting, but the result is a jumbled and confusing mess that quickly loses its novelty after a few chapters.
The issue, if this emulation was his intent, is that Wolfe never tried any of the substances he was attempting to emulate the effects of. So it comes across as stilted and artificial, like a child who has never consumed alcohol trying to emulate being drunk. Just more what he imagined it would be like.
It pales in comparison to, for example, the frenetic and crazed writing of Hunter S. Thomson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, where there is no doubt that Thomson's writing is an emulation of the experiences that he had and had lived. I guess that is the distinction between Wolfe's New Journalism and Thomson's Gonzo Journalism. Wolfe tried to write it to make the reader feel like they're actually there, whereas Thomson actually was and can achieve that through a recounting of events*
I believe it would have been much better if Wolfe wrote it in a much straighter manner, and refrained from attempting to make a statement with his verbiage.

To be considered also, I am personally not a fan of stream of consciousness style of writing (Having just come from reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, which I heavily disliked due to this style), so that factor of taste needs to be taken into account.

2. Uncritical View
The book serves almost as a hagiography, never venturing any level of criticism of the actions of the Kesey and the Merry Pranksters. Because while reading, there are many things that I felt were brushed aside, with things like sanitation and the involvement of children only brought up in passing. Heck, there is even a scene where the visiting Hells Angles run a train on a girl, where it isn't exactly clear that she's in a state of mind to have any say in the matter, and it is presented in the same tone of "O golly gee, just look at these crazy zany hippies and their wild groovy lives! Aren't they just zonked out of their minds lol" that the rest of the narrative is structured around. Never does Wolfe step back and attempt to add qualification to the celebratory view he gives the Pranksters, or questioning the cult like nature of the group and Kesey's influence over the members.

3. Lack of detail
The parts of the history and narrative felt so disconnected from each other, and when something new came up it felt like not enough time was spent to really care about any of it. It was more like little individual vignettes of wackiness that weren't coherently related to the overall story. The chapters could better be summed up with sitcom episode titles like "The Pranksters visit Timothy Leary", "The Hells Angles come to the Pranksters" or "The Pranksters take over a Unitarian Convention", which each little episode not having the time to delve into the issue being presented at hand.

Conclusion
One of my favorite books of all time is The Power Broker: Robert Moses and the Fall of New York by Robert Caro, where he takes what is ostensibly one of the least exciting topics you can find, dealing with the nuances and intricate details of the process of building highways, bridges, and parks in New York City. But then he details how it was dominated for decades by a single man, and proceeds to elucidate the fascinating and infuriating facts of how it all came to be, giving all topics brought up the time needed to really have the reader understand the time period and the significance of every action, writing in clear and incisive prose which beautifully flows off the page and keeps you engrossed in the arc of the tragedy, from the idealistic and promising rise to the fall in pervasive corruption of his entire character. Even over the 1000+ pages.
The reason I bring it up is that it is the opposite of what i found in this book. I could only imagine what a figure like Robert Caro would has been able to do with the same subject matter, contrasted with Wolfe taking us on what he imagined an LSD trip would be like. This book is sparse on detail, and the prose is so jarring that it becomes difficult to really connect with anything in the story. I found myself not caring about any of the characters involved, as there was no real junction from one little story to the next. It didn't feel like there was any purpose of reason for some of the portions outside of being able to namedrop some famous person of group. It feels like an opportunity to tell a truly interesting story was squandered.

*: caveat, that "Fear and Loathing" is more based on true events than a completely accurate retelling. Many of the events happened, but they weren't structured in the same narrative that is presented in the book.

"You're either on the bus...or off the bus." This is the choice facing you as you begin to read Tom Wolfe's classic saga of Ken Kesey's Merry Pranksters as they test the boundries of consciousness and test the limits of other human's patience. What is almost as amazing as the lengths to which the pranksters went to enjoy their existence on Earth, is the style that Wolfe has chosen to narrate the adventures. Brillliantly blending stream of consciousness writing and a journalistic sense of description, Wolfe immerses himself in Kesey's world in an attempt to understand the thoughts of a group of adults who would paint a school bus with day-glo colors and trek across the United States with pitchers full of acid and a video camera keeping an eye on it all. Who could resist a chance to find out what it was like to spend a quaint evening in the woods reaching altered states of consciousness with a group of Hell's Angels, or taking a peek inside the world of the budding hippie stars led by a youthful Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead. Whether or not you approve of massive drug use will not impact your liking of this book, and for anyone who takes an interest in the counterculture movement this book is a must-read. Also acts as a perfect companion to Kesey's "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," and Jack Kerouac's "On the Road." Now you must decide, "Can YOU pass the acid test?"

Reading this book made me feel like I was trapped inside of it. The mostly nonsensical world that Kesey and the Pranksters lived in would have made (somehow) even less sense if it were not for Wolfe’s third-person immersion into the scene and subjective descriptions of the adventures “on the bus”.

On top of the world-building of Prankster life, the book addresses the cultural relevance of the “beautiful people” or “probation generation” in context and creates a messianic story about Kesey’s role in acid culture across states, countries and continents.