Before his mysterious disappearance and probable death in 1971, Oscar Zeta Acosta was famous as a Robin Hood Chicano layer and notorious as the real-life model for Hunter S. Thompson's "Dr. Gonzo," a fat, pugnacious attorney with a gargantuan appetite for food, drugs, and life on the edge.
Written with uninhibited candor and manic energy, this book is Acosta's own account
Before his mysterious disappearance and probable death in 1971, Oscar Zeta Acosta was famous as a Robin Hood Chicano layer and notorious as the real-life model for Hunter S. Thompson's "Dr. Gonzo," a fat, pugnacious attorney with a gargantuan appetite for food, drugs, and life on the edge.
Written with uninhibited candor and manic energy, this book is Acosta's own account of coming of age as a Chicano in the psychedelic sixties, of taking on impossible cases while breaking all tile rules of courtroom conduct, and of scrambling headlong in search of a personal and cultural identity. It is a landmark of contemporary Hispanic-American literature, at once ribald, surreal, and unmistakably authentic.
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Kindle Edition
,
209 pages
Published
February 6th 2013
by Vintage
(first published January 1st 2013)
Anybody who has crossed Mr Acosta before in Hunter S. Thompson's infamous novel will have an idea as to just how unhinged he was, but that initial encounter only served to fuel my curiosity. It was this curiosity that ultimately led me to Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo.
It is genuinely difficult to explain this book to somebody who's not read it or heard of Acosta and his exploits, just because it would be easier to think that this type of person doesn't exist in the real world. That said, if y
Anybody who has crossed Mr Acosta before in Hunter S. Thompson's infamous novel will have an idea as to just how unhinged he was, but that initial encounter only served to fuel my curiosity. It was this curiosity that ultimately led me to Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo.
It is genuinely difficult to explain this book to somebody who's not read it or heard of Acosta and his exploits, just because it would be easier to think that this type of person doesn't exist in the real world. That said, if you can stick with it then this will be one of the more entertaining books you will encounter.
In his autobiography, Acosta takes you from the day he stepped down as a Legal Aid attorney to the beginning of his time as a Chicano activist and while that may read as a perfectly ordinary, pleasant career transition, the truth is the opposite. Scattered with intermittent drug trips and flashbacks to life growing up in Riverbank, the book definitely makes for an interesting read.
An unexpected positive for this book is that it provides an insight into the social attitudes of 1950s/1960s America and what life was like for migrant communities, social minorities and victims of the ever-lasting class war.
The moments of madness vastly outweigh those where you find yourself crediting Acosta for his writing ability, but then that shouldn't come as a surprise given that this is the autobiography of a man who beggars belief, a man who embodies the joys and sorrows of a life of excess.
(April 8, 1935 – disappeared 1974) was an American attorney, politician, minor novelist and Chicano Movement activist, perhaps best known for his friendship with the American author Hunter S. Thompson, who included him as a character the Samoan Attorney, Dr. Gonzo, in his acclaimed novel Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
“I have no desire to be a politician. I don’t want to lead anyone. I have no practical ego. I am not ambitious. I merely want to do what is right. Once in every century there comes a man who is chosen to speak for his people. Moses, Mao and Martin are examples. Who’s to say that I am not such a man? In this day and age the man for all seasons needs many voices. Perhaps that is why the gods have sent me into Riverbank, Panama, San Francisco, Alpine and Juarez. Perhaps that is why I’ve been taught so many trades. Who will deny that I am unique? For months, for years, no, all my life I sought to find out who I am. Why do you think I became a Baptist? Why did I try to force myself into the Riverbank Swimming Pool? And did I become a lawyer just to prove to the publishers I could do something worthwhile? Any idiot that sees only the obvious is blind. For God sake, I have never seen and I have never felt inferior to any man or beast.”
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“Since I was about ten years younger than this crew of alcoholics, I just listened and filled their cups with cheap wine. After they’d had enough, I’d tell them of my escapades in Riverbank and in Panama where I’d worked with the Southern Baptist Convention and Jesus Christ to save the black souls of niggers, spics and Indians. I used to keep my eye on Harris when I told my stories. He had this nasty habit of pulling out a little notebook in the middle of a conversation and jotting down, as he said, “story ideas.” Later on, after I’d transferred to S.F. State and taken his writing course, he asked me if I wanted to read his first draft of Wake Up, Stupid! I kept it for a week and returned it to him at the next short story seminar. I only read the first paragraph. After that, I was no longer afraid of the intellectuals. I knew I could tell a better story.”
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