Dunque, la mia prima esperienza con Hunter risale all'anno della sua morte.

Rolling Stone fece uscire un suo pezzo per commemorarlo. Non ricordo di cosa parlasse, ma me ne innamorai. Come tutte le mie passioni, esplose e si esaurì nel giro di una paio d'anni. Leggevo i reportage disponibili quando li trovavo. Avrò letto Paura e disgusto a Las Vegas decine di volte. Miracolosamente, trovai una copia delle Cronache del rum nella biblioteca di paese alcuni anni dopo.

Ma di Hell's Angels nemmeno l'ombra. Introvabile. Fino alla fine dell'anno scorso: non trovo mai niente che valga la pena prendere nei negozi di libri usati, ma lui era lì che mi aspettava. E avrei speso anche il triplo dei miseri 4 euro che l'ho pagato, pur di averlo.

Thompson non ha bisogno di presentazioni. Basta leggere qualsiasi cosa di suo, per capire che si è di fronte a un giornalista con un talento enorme, con una vocazione da storyteller da far paura ai migliori. In quest'opera, esce il meglio di entrambi i lati.

Hell's Angels aka Ascesa e declino di un caso montato ad arte, unisce il giornalismo d'assalto - Thompson visse nove mesi con la banda di motociclisti eponima - a un lavoro certosino di ricerca e analisi dei dati. Monta e smonta passo passo la costruzione di un mito americano in parte creato a tavolino, con uno stile incredibile. Spazia dal trattato antropologico su una classe di fuorilegge ai margini della società, alla denuncia sociale, al debunking di informazioni ingannevoli.

La società americana ne esce a pezzi, come già succedeva in Paura e disgusto. Ed è forse questo che colpisce maggiormente, a prescindere dal talento indiscusso dell'autore. Negli Hell's Angels si rivede lo spirito della frontiera, il selvaggio West, in qualche modo l'impresa più importante degli americani, e pure il fallimento degli outsider all'interno di una società civile che non sa che farsene di questi spiriti liberi su due ruote. E Thompson racconta tutto questo non con l'intenzione di mitizzare dei nuovi eroi, ma facendone una ricostruzione esatta che non indulge nell'edulcorazione, riportando i fatti e le conseguenze con precisione cronometrata.

Questo è il Reportage.

Hunter S. Thompson resided with the Angels for more than a year, meticulously documenting their thoughts and closely observing their way of life.

In this remarkable book, he offers an objective perspective on the world they inhabit, the individuals who populated the outlaw clubs during that era, as well as their successors in the late 60s/early 70s, and how the entire scene was evolving.

The book is truly captivating, yet at times it can be quite horrifying. Overall, it appears to be a fitting testament to the circles where the outlaws flourish and the manner in which the media and popular culture deal with them. The only challenge in getting through this book lies in the fact that reading about such a lifestyle can be rather difficult. It is truly incredible to think that such a society exists within our own world.

I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone who is curious about learning more about the outlaws. Additionally, I eagerly anticipate delving into Thompson's other works.

It was an extremely audacious (or perhaps even crazy) move on the part of Hunter S. Thompson to fully immerse himself with the Hell’s Angels.

During the chaotic 1960s, for nearly two years, he lived among these outlaws, conducting research and directly experiencing some of their criminal activities.

For some unknown reason, they trusted, or at least tolerated, Thompson. The outcome is what seems like an in-depth article that was later expanded into a slightly overly long book.

Once I increased the audio speed to 1.75x, I breezed through it. Nevertheless, it truly is a worthwhile read.

Side note: I am utterly fascinated by the 1960s California counterculture. It was such a strange and terrifying period in US history.

Well, Mr. Thompson,

I have to say that as a piece of investigative gonzo journalism, I think I finally feel a little let down by your critique of the Hell's Angels. I do appreciate the submersion you endured within the novel. However, my major contentions are with how the Hell's Angels are never pressed or asked about the obvious racist patches they adorn themselves with, such as iron crosses and swastikas. Instead, you try to show how they sling around the word "nigger" and have members of different races without accepting their differences, and "white washing" their ethnicity. While it's shown, it seems like you observe and report instead of pressing so the reader could understand. Instead, we just sort of have to accept. For instance, the mention of the black cyclist club in San Francisco meeting the Hell's Angels for a mutual meeting, where tensions were high.

Another matter that disturbed me greatly was the misunderstanding of all of the supposed tongue in cheek attitudes about rape. It is explained slightly but never critically. I understand this was a period of free love, but unfortunately, after reading it, I have a feeling of excusing behavior like "women were asking for it by hanging out with those hooligans." A large part of this work is a critique on the press, while hanging out with the Hell's Angels. However, I feel this oversight is inexcusable. I kept reading, thinking you were going to really lay into the bikers for the rape accusations. However, it never really got beyond "they were never convicted" or "maybe they intimidated witnesses." Mr. Thompson, I just don't get it.