I read this when I was going through my "reading books by authors who did drugs" phase. (No really, that's what I called it.) I like it as an insight into an era, but as a piece of literature it's a bit too much of a beatnic Mary Sue.

This is a really uneven but charming book. That charming part might be a stretch given the amount of drug (ab)use, vulgarity and domestic-flavored violence, but I think it lends a gravity to the book that would be otherwise absent. Oh who am I kidding, drug use and vulgarity are naturally funny, they suck you into a ridiculous world you wish you could be a part of! Ahh, but the escapism is quelched by tragedy, major and minor.

I was gripped by one word ethoses; freaked out by the monkey demon; intrigued by the mysterious "Motherball". I am not sure what happened in some parts of this book. Sometimes this is due to sloppy writing, but at other times, it felt like intentional drug-soiled narration/shared perception. Very Pynchon-esque.

Farina does a couple things rather well. First, he fluidly integrates the third person narrative with the uncensored thoughts of our self proclaimed anti-hero, Gnossos. He also makes sure to finish and start each of the two books with compelling happenings and crisp prose. Overall, I felt the raw emotion of Gnossos and the era, when I wasn't a little bit bored. (I think this is more appropriately set in 60's, but whatev.)

I'd rather read something alternately fun and boring that finishes strong than even keeled mediocrity+1. Almost worth a distant-future reread. ( )

Fuck yes. ( )

Sigh . . . Another book I let slip away long ago and now regret. My original copy was old enough it did not have an ISBN. Aside from a good look into the culture of the early to mid 1960's, the book showed great promise for Richard Farina as an author. Sadly, a motorcycle accident took his life just as the book was being published.

One rollicking, rockin' great story that was true to the times. If you can find this book, acquire it and never let it go. Not exactly earth shattering, but a very forceful story nonetheless. Given that the author was a lyricist before becoming a novelist, it is no wonder the story and dialog flows so well. ( )

This was a hippie "must-read" that I just didn't get around to until recently. A bit precious, but not without its charm. Farina was an engaging writer, and his kinship with Pynchon is evident. ( )