Smug, dated, boring authorial masturbation with no literary merit whatever--indistinguishable from the hordes of hacks and comp 101 deep thinkers who’ve copied it.

This was one of them titles that I was really aware of but had not previously read (or seen the movie), though I had an inkling of what it was about.

I don't think anything can prepare you for the level of drug use that is present in this novel.
Though the recounting of the semi-autobiographical road trip to Las Vegas and the various scrapes that our protagonist find themselves in are rather amusing.

It's a quick entertaining read, with some decent laughs whilst the various illustrations littered throughout really adds to the ludicrous tale.
I'm curious to see how the film handles the subject matter now.

While reading this book I always thought (or hoped) that there would be a sense behind all this. The book is really famous and also on the 1001 list so I was always looking for some hidden meaning behind all this. But, well, I couldn't find any.
The book is written in a quite fluent style so I read it pretty quickly. The first part still made some sense, but the second part lacked it entirely.
I was only fascinated by one thing: how can anyone take that many drugs and still be able to do anything? I don't think there is any drug the two protagonists didn't take (except maybe the ones that weren't invented then). That they were still alive after their trip (I love the double meanning :) is as much of a miracle as any of the Rolling Stones still being alive today!