Reviews for The Joke's Over: Bruised Memories: Gonzo, Hunter S. Thompson and Me

The average rating for The Joke's Over: Bruised Memories: Gonzo, Hunter S. Thompson and Me based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2016-12-27 00:00:00 Jerry Pasley Few people knew HST better (or put up with more of his shit) than Ralph Steadman. I can see why he waited until his passing to publish this, as I can only imagine the haranguing and abuse (not to mention lawsuits) that would've otherwise likely ensued, but ultimately this was little more than a factual, mostly tender look back at their thirty-five years of working, fighting, and just generally living it up together. If HST were still around to object, it would be in his finally having to admit that Ralph could indeed write after all, or at least write as well as he could draw. Some of the stories were only tangentially related to HST, and one wonders why these were even included at all, but it is Ralph's book in the end, and he did spend about half his life in the shadow of HST's own writing, so I guess it was just his time to shine. And shine here he does, for the most part. Required reading for anyone wanting to learn more about both HST and his artist, friend, and partner in crime, Ralph Steadman.

Review # 2 was written on 2012-01-16 00:00:00 Rene Serna I have never written a Goodreads review, and probably will not write many of them, but I felt some justification for my five-star rating was in order. Was this most well-written book I have ever read? By no means; but it had something that so many better-written, more focused books I have read lack: Integrity. This book (to briefly summarize) is a portrait of the relationship shared between Hunter S. Thompson (former Hell's Angel and American author extraordinaire) and Ralph Steadman (one of the most unique and influential artists of our day). The book chronicles 35 years of (barely) working relationship between two men who are responsible for such gems as "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," "The Curse of Lono," and, ultimately, the fathers of the Gonzo movement. From their meeting in 1970 to Hunter's dramatic suicide in 2005, Steadman paints a vivid picture of the man HST was to himself and the people around him: impulsive, cruel, egocentric, ingenious, thoughtful, and driven by a madness inside which few outside his nearest and dearest hoped to understand. Throughout the book, I was struck by how absolutely candid Steadman was about his relationship with Thompson; sharing with the reader his personal struggles in trying to write a memoir of a man who, at best, was complicated, and at worst nothing but the very darkest in each of us. Steadman made no effort to hide the often cruel and thoughtless manner in which HST treated those around him--accusing them of feeding off his fame like leeches, denouncing their roles in his successes and in general leaving a mess of drugs, alcohol and destruction in his wake. He likewise did not keep from view Hunter's moments of insight, compassion, and insecurity. Throughout the book, Steadman conveys a deep sense of unease with his own feelings toward Hunter: resentful of the offhand way Thompson treated their friendship and yet drawn to the camaraderie and closeness shared by friends who embark on a journey to bring the art of living to a new level. Steadman's absolute candor is what made this book successful for me. The story had me laughing, cringing, and feeling tense and angry--all as Steadman felt, I am positive. The fast-pacedness of the book only contributed to the frenzy characteristic of the Gonzo movement. Ralph's uncensored examination of Hunter's behavior during each of their joint projects gave me keen insights into what this world of Gonzo was all about; more than the drugs, the alcohol, the guns, this time was about the examination of all expectations, beliefs, notions, easy-buys and easy-outs. Hunter challenged the world around him to break molds, push boundaries, not accept complacency, and never take yourself too seriously. His final act, a grisly suicide to which he invited his only son, was met with Steadman's reply, "It's about time. He's been threatening to long enough." I think I keep trying to put into words a feeling I cannot convey, which is that Steadman succeeded in painting a true and honest portrait of a man he both loved and loathed for 35 years. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, cover to cover.