Approx. 35 pp. on various paper stock, including 8 pp. of HST letters; approx. 140 images in color negatives and contact sheets
1973
by Thompson, Hunter S.
1973. Approx. 35 pp. on various paper stock, including 8 pp. of HST letters; approx. 140 images in color negatives and contact sheets. Very good. Approx. 35 pp. on various paper stock, including 8 pp. of HST letters; approx. 140 images in color negatives and contact sheets. A rich small archive about the writing of Thompson's long journalistic piece "The Great Shark Hunt," published in Playboy in December 1973, and which lent its title to the principal anthology of his journalism, published in 1979.
Thompson was commissioned by David Butler in early 1973 to write an article on Mexican sportfishing culture, and this little group of papers documents the problems that Thompson faced, principally around his lack of empathy with the subject: as he wrote in the piece itself, “. . . it was clear that the story was not only a dry hole but maybe even a dry socket. Our most serious problem had to do with the rat-bastard tedium of spending eight hours a day out at sea in the boiling sun, being tossed around on the bridge of a high-powered motorboat and watching middle-aged businessmen reeling sailfish up to the side of the boat . . . I have watched a lot of bad acts in my time . . . but I’m damned if I can remember anything as insanely fucking dull as that Third Annual International Cozumel Fishing Tournament.”
At the heart of the archive are four fine strong letters on Owl Farm and Rolling Stone letterhead, both typed and manuscript, by Thompson, eloquently apologizing for lack of delivery, referring to “my ever-deepening involvement in the Watergate story” (which makes it hard for him to find the time for the Cozumel story) and “a federal drug blitz on Aspen that has already subpoenaed 10 or 12 of my friends for a Grand Jury gig in Denver – and which is likely to reel me in at any moment, on general principles” . He fails to meet Norman Mailer “Beyond that, I haven’t been able to crank up a hell of a lot of enthusiasm for the idea of a mano a mano gig with Norman” but nevertheless “Barring a nark-swarm on my house” he’ll get on the case.
On another occasion he was just sitting down to start a tentative second draft “shaking off the last of the acid horrors” when a long train of events, partly connected with the real life “Dr. Gonzo” (Oscar Zita Acosta) trying to sue him over the film rights for Fear and Loathing. A fine passage describes his grappling with the “spineless saga” of the story: “I have the usual amount of ultimate faith in it - along with the usual sense of futility, hatred and despair ... and the trick, as always, is in refusing to even read the accumulated pages until they’re ready.”
Even this last gambit fails, and he resorts to sending the last 30 pages, promises that he’s done the first 63 (“I still haven’t got to the goddamn fishing”), and sends a cassette tape (not present) for “some unfortunate wretch in your employ” to transcribe. The instructions are daunting: “Whoever does the transcribing shouldn’t worry about garbled dialogue or out-of-context gibberish”, but he can’t do it himself because “I’ve listened to these goddamn tapes for so long that I hate every inch of it.”
Further interesting internal material, including Playboy internal memos on dealing with Thompson and with editorial procedure.
A full listing below:
– Closely typed 2 page TLS with manuscript notes, from Thompson, Owl Farm. June 22. The article itself and why it’s not happening fast: “just sitting down today to start a tentative second draft that might lash together the 30/40 rough pages I’ve already croaked up inre: Cozumel . . . Indeed, ready to get right into it, no more fucking around (and also with the jangled euphoria from an unexpected handful of righteous blotter acid sold last night in the Jerome bar) ... yes: make some sense of the fucking thing ... But just as I was finally shaking off the last of the acid horrors about ten this morning, Sandy came back with the mail – which included [...] a copy of Wolfe’s “New Journalism” book ... which didn’t tell me a hell of a lot except that I used to be a far more choerent [sic] writer than I seem to be now. Or maybe just hungrier. Or more vengeful. Who can say for sure?”
A hangover from Fear and Loathing is developing. His legal adviser is now threatening to sue him: “I just got off the phone with Lynn Nesbit, who called to say that Acosta rang her up yesterday afternoon to announce that he was sueing me for gross fraud, massive damages & obstruction of justice or some such bullshit inre: the sale of the Vegas book for a film ... which won’t faze the film rights, because I have a Xerox of Oscar’s release of all claims, etc. tacked inside on the kitches wall, but in the short run will undoubtedly croak any hope of immediate delivery on the $7500 option-money: film mongers are not normally eager to acquire properties even vaguely rumoured to be in litigation. (One half-mad letter from Oscar’s “attorney” very nearly caused Random House to suspend publication of the Vegas book...)”
Other enemies of progress: “the goddamn phone rang again and after 22 minutes of brainless jabbering I found that I’d agreed to define the word “corruption” for Harpers, in 500 words or less with 48 hrs and for $100. Why not? I should be able to go right to the mat with that one – no trouble at all. Just dash the fucker off.”
Promises to get something off for him: “Don’t view the shit as anything except loosely-constructed notes; but even in that form you might get some idea what kind of a spineless-saga I’m grappling with. I have the usual amount of ultimate faith in it – along with the usual sense(s) of futility, hatred and despair.” The fax machine – cutting edge as it was then – gets a look in: “and that’s one of the main real values of the Mojo Wire: once you feed a page into that bastard it’s gone forever – no frenzied editing or anal-compulsive rewrites.”
– 3 page TLS from HST, Owl Farm. July 11. Not going well. “I’m up to 63 pages on Cozumel, and I still haven’t got to the goddamn fishing.” HST’s plan is to “have some unfortunate wench in yr. employ transcribe these tapes, and then work the transcriptions down to an edited version of the middle. I’ve done this fairly often with RS, and the technique seems to work out ... if only for the sense of detail & immediacy that comes with a tape transcription, but which is almost invariably lost when I find myself writing frantically against overdue deadlines (?) ... I never seem to have the time to dredge the life-giving details off the tape... But for christ’s sake don’t lose the tapes. I’ll need them to flesh out the transcription. What I usually do with R.S. is use the transcriptions like a wild-eyed first-draft – making corrections, additions, explanations, etc. off the original tape... Whoever does the transcribing shouldn’t worry about garbled dialogue or out-of-context gibberish.”
– 1 page ALS from HST. Owl Farm 25 July. Thanks for the transcripts and: “I couldn’t locate Mailer at the hearings & neither could any of my high-priced leg-men. Can you get a home phone-number for him and leave it with Frank Mankiewicz ...”
– 2 page TLS from HST. Owl Farm, Aug 16. “Here’s another chunk – probably the last big one. What I have to do now is lace the shit together and try to cut it down to size.” “I’m feeling increasingly guilty about the long delay on this thing – but there’s been no way to avoid my ever- deepening involvement in the Watergate story. It’s just too damn big and critical to keep anything but a total fix on.” “The main problem here was my original/disastrous decision to try to do anything in tandem with Watergate. It’s been like trying to write both the Vegas & the Campaign ’72 books at the same time – not only 2 different things, but 2 different states of mind. It’s damn near impossible to go out to dinner with Dick Tuck, Adam Walinsky & Wisconsin congressman Les Aspin for a long argument about impeaching Nixon and then come back half-drunk to work on a story about drug-madness in Cozumel. But I’m trying, David ... trying. And in my spare time, as it were, I’m dealing with a federal drug blitz on Aspen that has already subpoenaed 10 or 12 of my friends for a Grand Jury gig in Denver – and which is likely to reel me in at any moment, on general principles; or maybe just on the basis of the Vegas book.” “But what the fuck? One thing at a time, eh? Barring the very real possibility of a nark-swarm on my house at any moment, I’ll spend the next few days on this Cozumel article and get it finished.”
– A long memo from David Butler to Arthur [Ketchmer – Playboy editor]. On Thompson: “Early next week, I want to call him to let him know if he can go ahead with a piece he very much wants to do for us. The idea is that he and Steadman (he’s very keen that Steadman be involved, though I told him I didn’t think we’d like the idea of looking that much like Rolling Stone) would report on boorish, whoring, boozing deep-sea fisherman off the coast of Texas or Mexico. ... This is something to think about in the next few days. HS urged me to get a copy of a piece on the Kentucky Derby he did for Scanlan’s to see what it would be like, but I haven’t been able to do that.” Ketchmer notes in the margin, “I like the Thompson part – not sure about Steadman.”
– A couple of scrappy memos with Butler’s notes to himself, including the sardonic note about Cozumel fishing events: “a lot looser than U.S.-run tournaments”
– A copy letter dated May 24 from Butler: “Dear Hunter: No problem here with a gonzo account of the Cozumel expedition. I’ll look forward to getting it.”
– Carbon from Butler, August 31. Nothing yet. Butler says he can finish it himself from the transcriptions, but “the thing really requires that middle section on the boats... So give me some fishing, from whatever perspective. The piece needs to be different from F&LinLV.”
– A somewhat desperate note from Butler “I know you’re bored with fishing. But isn’t there something to be said either about the bloody fish themselves, or more likely, about the fishermen?”
– Photocopy TLS from Butler: “I know the style and I like it. I wouldn’t think of asking you to fuck with it. What I tried to say last time was that the middle section didn’t have to be conventional at all. Maybe you can get off on the fish themselves. The fish lying there or thrashing or whatever they do on the deck. Or maybe on the guys. I mean, I know you’re not going to describe the tournament the way Sports Illustrated would.”
– Several documents concern the legal release from Michael Solheim, barman at the Hotel Jerome, and HST’s companion in Cozumel: he’s portrayed as Yail Bloor in the article. The release states inter alia that “I recognize that the story will describe in various detail, a number of my activities which are illegal under both U.S. and Mexican law.”
– Four 36 roll strips of 35 mm colour negative with contact sheets from the trip. With a modern CD of scans from the negatives. (Inventory #: 368689)
Thompson was commissioned by David Butler in early 1973 to write an article on Mexican sportfishing culture, and this little group of papers documents the problems that Thompson faced, principally around his lack of empathy with the subject: as he wrote in the piece itself, “. . . it was clear that the story was not only a dry hole but maybe even a dry socket. Our most serious problem had to do with the rat-bastard tedium of spending eight hours a day out at sea in the boiling sun, being tossed around on the bridge of a high-powered motorboat and watching middle-aged businessmen reeling sailfish up to the side of the boat . . . I have watched a lot of bad acts in my time . . . but I’m damned if I can remember anything as insanely fucking dull as that Third Annual International Cozumel Fishing Tournament.”
At the heart of the archive are four fine strong letters on Owl Farm and Rolling Stone letterhead, both typed and manuscript, by Thompson, eloquently apologizing for lack of delivery, referring to “my ever-deepening involvement in the Watergate story” (which makes it hard for him to find the time for the Cozumel story) and “a federal drug blitz on Aspen that has already subpoenaed 10 or 12 of my friends for a Grand Jury gig in Denver – and which is likely to reel me in at any moment, on general principles” . He fails to meet Norman Mailer “Beyond that, I haven’t been able to crank up a hell of a lot of enthusiasm for the idea of a mano a mano gig with Norman” but nevertheless “Barring a nark-swarm on my house” he’ll get on the case.
On another occasion he was just sitting down to start a tentative second draft “shaking off the last of the acid horrors” when a long train of events, partly connected with the real life “Dr. Gonzo” (Oscar Zita Acosta) trying to sue him over the film rights for Fear and Loathing. A fine passage describes his grappling with the “spineless saga” of the story: “I have the usual amount of ultimate faith in it - along with the usual sense of futility, hatred and despair ... and the trick, as always, is in refusing to even read the accumulated pages until they’re ready.”
Even this last gambit fails, and he resorts to sending the last 30 pages, promises that he’s done the first 63 (“I still haven’t got to the goddamn fishing”), and sends a cassette tape (not present) for “some unfortunate wretch in your employ” to transcribe. The instructions are daunting: “Whoever does the transcribing shouldn’t worry about garbled dialogue or out-of-context gibberish”, but he can’t do it himself because “I’ve listened to these goddamn tapes for so long that I hate every inch of it.”
Further interesting internal material, including Playboy internal memos on dealing with Thompson and with editorial procedure.
A full listing below:
– Closely typed 2 page TLS with manuscript notes, from Thompson, Owl Farm. June 22. The article itself and why it’s not happening fast: “just sitting down today to start a tentative second draft that might lash together the 30/40 rough pages I’ve already croaked up inre: Cozumel . . . Indeed, ready to get right into it, no more fucking around (and also with the jangled euphoria from an unexpected handful of righteous blotter acid sold last night in the Jerome bar) ... yes: make some sense of the fucking thing ... But just as I was finally shaking off the last of the acid horrors about ten this morning, Sandy came back with the mail – which included [...] a copy of Wolfe’s “New Journalism” book ... which didn’t tell me a hell of a lot except that I used to be a far more choerent [sic] writer than I seem to be now. Or maybe just hungrier. Or more vengeful. Who can say for sure?”
A hangover from Fear and Loathing is developing. His legal adviser is now threatening to sue him: “I just got off the phone with Lynn Nesbit, who called to say that Acosta rang her up yesterday afternoon to announce that he was sueing me for gross fraud, massive damages & obstruction of justice or some such bullshit inre: the sale of the Vegas book for a film ... which won’t faze the film rights, because I have a Xerox of Oscar’s release of all claims, etc. tacked inside on the kitches wall, but in the short run will undoubtedly croak any hope of immediate delivery on the $7500 option-money: film mongers are not normally eager to acquire properties even vaguely rumoured to be in litigation. (One half-mad letter from Oscar’s “attorney” very nearly caused Random House to suspend publication of the Vegas book...)”
Other enemies of progress: “the goddamn phone rang again and after 22 minutes of brainless jabbering I found that I’d agreed to define the word “corruption” for Harpers, in 500 words or less with 48 hrs and for $100. Why not? I should be able to go right to the mat with that one – no trouble at all. Just dash the fucker off.”
Promises to get something off for him: “Don’t view the shit as anything except loosely-constructed notes; but even in that form you might get some idea what kind of a spineless-saga I’m grappling with. I have the usual amount of ultimate faith in it – along with the usual sense(s) of futility, hatred and despair.” The fax machine – cutting edge as it was then – gets a look in: “and that’s one of the main real values of the Mojo Wire: once you feed a page into that bastard it’s gone forever – no frenzied editing or anal-compulsive rewrites.”
– 3 page TLS from HST, Owl Farm. July 11. Not going well. “I’m up to 63 pages on Cozumel, and I still haven’t got to the goddamn fishing.” HST’s plan is to “have some unfortunate wench in yr. employ transcribe these tapes, and then work the transcriptions down to an edited version of the middle. I’ve done this fairly often with RS, and the technique seems to work out ... if only for the sense of detail & immediacy that comes with a tape transcription, but which is almost invariably lost when I find myself writing frantically against overdue deadlines (?) ... I never seem to have the time to dredge the life-giving details off the tape... But for christ’s sake don’t lose the tapes. I’ll need them to flesh out the transcription. What I usually do with R.S. is use the transcriptions like a wild-eyed first-draft – making corrections, additions, explanations, etc. off the original tape... Whoever does the transcribing shouldn’t worry about garbled dialogue or out-of-context gibberish.”
– 1 page ALS from HST. Owl Farm 25 July. Thanks for the transcripts and: “I couldn’t locate Mailer at the hearings & neither could any of my high-priced leg-men. Can you get a home phone-number for him and leave it with Frank Mankiewicz ...”
– 2 page TLS from HST. Owl Farm, Aug 16. “Here’s another chunk – probably the last big one. What I have to do now is lace the shit together and try to cut it down to size.” “I’m feeling increasingly guilty about the long delay on this thing – but there’s been no way to avoid my ever- deepening involvement in the Watergate story. It’s just too damn big and critical to keep anything but a total fix on.” “The main problem here was my original/disastrous decision to try to do anything in tandem with Watergate. It’s been like trying to write both the Vegas & the Campaign ’72 books at the same time – not only 2 different things, but 2 different states of mind. It’s damn near impossible to go out to dinner with Dick Tuck, Adam Walinsky & Wisconsin congressman Les Aspin for a long argument about impeaching Nixon and then come back half-drunk to work on a story about drug-madness in Cozumel. But I’m trying, David ... trying. And in my spare time, as it were, I’m dealing with a federal drug blitz on Aspen that has already subpoenaed 10 or 12 of my friends for a Grand Jury gig in Denver – and which is likely to reel me in at any moment, on general principles; or maybe just on the basis of the Vegas book.” “But what the fuck? One thing at a time, eh? Barring the very real possibility of a nark-swarm on my house at any moment, I’ll spend the next few days on this Cozumel article and get it finished.”
– A long memo from David Butler to Arthur [Ketchmer – Playboy editor]. On Thompson: “Early next week, I want to call him to let him know if he can go ahead with a piece he very much wants to do for us. The idea is that he and Steadman (he’s very keen that Steadman be involved, though I told him I didn’t think we’d like the idea of looking that much like Rolling Stone) would report on boorish, whoring, boozing deep-sea fisherman off the coast of Texas or Mexico. ... This is something to think about in the next few days. HS urged me to get a copy of a piece on the Kentucky Derby he did for Scanlan’s to see what it would be like, but I haven’t been able to do that.” Ketchmer notes in the margin, “I like the Thompson part – not sure about Steadman.”
– A couple of scrappy memos with Butler’s notes to himself, including the sardonic note about Cozumel fishing events: “a lot looser than U.S.-run tournaments”
– A copy letter dated May 24 from Butler: “Dear Hunter: No problem here with a gonzo account of the Cozumel expedition. I’ll look forward to getting it.”
– Carbon from Butler, August 31. Nothing yet. Butler says he can finish it himself from the transcriptions, but “the thing really requires that middle section on the boats... So give me some fishing, from whatever perspective. The piece needs to be different from F&LinLV.”
– A somewhat desperate note from Butler “I know you’re bored with fishing. But isn’t there something to be said either about the bloody fish themselves, or more likely, about the fishermen?”
– Photocopy TLS from Butler: “I know the style and I like it. I wouldn’t think of asking you to fuck with it. What I tried to say last time was that the middle section didn’t have to be conventional at all. Maybe you can get off on the fish themselves. The fish lying there or thrashing or whatever they do on the deck. Or maybe on the guys. I mean, I know you’re not going to describe the tournament the way Sports Illustrated would.”
– Several documents concern the legal release from Michael Solheim, barman at the Hotel Jerome, and HST’s companion in Cozumel: he’s portrayed as Yail Bloor in the article. The release states inter alia that “I recognize that the story will describe in various detail, a number of my activities which are illegal under both U.S. and Mexican law.”
– Four 36 roll strips of 35 mm colour negative with contact sheets from the trip. With a modern CD of scans from the negatives. (Inventory #: 368689)
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