Hells Angels – Hunter S. Thompson

In retrospect, it’s easy to see why Hunter S. Thompson’s definitive article on the infamous motorcycle outlaws was so controversial, in many ways, it is still a stark text in places, but at the same time, it is a testament to the fact that given a voice, some perceived “dangers” can be explained, perhaps even justified.

Chronicling the rise and culmination of the 1960s biggest American Nightmare (pre Charles Manson), Hell’s Angels is a cross-country depiction of the low down and dirty. Thompson’s dialogue is as precise and distanced as ever, calmly chronicling the disparity between how the Angels were represented in the media, and how they actually existed, making demons of the press and the “establishment” as much as the men on bikes themselves. And this is perhaps the over-arching theme of the book, that corruption is confined to those with true power, rather than to gangs who aren’t integrated enough to give a fuck. From head honcho Sonny Barger downwards, the book depicts the Angels not as soulless dissidents, but as wayward isolationists, for the most part.

In any gang atmosphere, there will be rule makers and rule breakers, and whilst none of the figures Thompson wrote about were “likeable” as such, the book does make it clear that a scapegoat for the press in any context will be manipulated whether they like it or not. The image and reputation of the Angels was blown entirely out of proportion at the height of their infamy, much like any villain.

In understanding the ways they were misrepresented, it seems to be the case that the Angels weren’t the pestilent, marauding road warriors they were painted as, but were still fringe operators, not civilised in the strictest sense of the word. Whilst the descriptions Thompson gave never stray into empathic territory from the reader’s perspective, they are nonetheless stories that make the Angels human, and understandable, if not entirely acceptable. Overall, he doesn’t lose sight of the fact that they were intentionally motorcycle enthusiasts, though rogues by default. The Angels were a club, a gang for those who didn’t want to fit in, or perhaps didn’t know how to, so they created their own codes and their own version of society. Utopian it wasn’t though ironically ordered and tired it was.

As it stands, and the aforementioned lack of empathy aside, there is a sadness to the tale in places. However, mostly, as Thompson seems to enthuse in the book’s final pages, although it becomes easier to understand the Angels, in general you come away just glad you aren’t one.

by enos