When I saw this book on the shelf at the bookstore, even though I'd promised myself I was only browsing, I couldn't walk away without it. A 1968 classic recounting the adventures of a drugged-up, spaced-out and tuned-in group calling themselves the "Pranksters" and traveling around the continent on a psychedelically painted bus is a little too hard to resist.
The 1960's is an attractive decade to read about, both politically and culturally (and what's not to love about the fashions?). Books like The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test are such satisfying reads not because they offer grand insight into politics, but because books like this one serve as folklore. This book is like a mirror into the way some people experiencing the 60's saw the 60's.
In the midst of the drugs, parties and wandering minds, there is revealed a philosophy towards life in which we are actors creating our own scripts and filming our own "movies." We perceive things as we wish to perceive them. If we perceive them differently, then they are different.
At one point we are told that "Art is not eternal," a bold statement in a culture that wishes to preserve.
At another point we are told that "Sometimes we don't even realize what we really care about, because we get so distracted by the symbols," as when we feel pride in a flag. I was struck by how true this is. When we stand up for the national anthem at an event, what exactly are we standing up for? A symbol? Do we understand what the symbol means to us, personally?
As Wolfe writes near the beginning, "Everyone is picking up on the most minute incidents as if they are metaphors for life itself." The whole book, in the midst of the nonsense, is steeped with metaphors.
When I picked up this book, I expected a wild, yet intellectually satisfying ride. I got what I asked for. The 1960s were truly a wonderful time for writing.
No comments:
Post a Comment