treachery, lust, and drunkeness

Written in 1959 when he was only 22years old, Rum Diary is loosely based on Thompson’s experiences and thoughts at the time. It is his second novel after the unpublished Prince Jellyfish and was written a decade before his invent of Gonzo Journalism.

What captivated me the most is how Thompson presents the realities of living in a foreign country; the drunken escapades, lust, financial stability, and eventual hatred for ones new foot-hole, all of these seem too familiar and at times a little too real considering my current status quo. Subsequently, I think this enhanced my reading experience.

The story revolves around a fictitious (and autobiographical) journalist named Paul Kemp who moves to Puerto Rico from New York to work for a crappy local newspaper. The characters in the book are well developed, and without going into character profiles, each plays a pivotal role in the events that takes place for Kemp on San Juan.

As the book progresses, Kemp reveals the veneers of the sunny, rum-laden myth of his new habitat and discovers what his colleagues warns him of upon his arrival; the Government is corrupt, locals are violently opposed to the Americans and the newspaper he works for is about to collapse.

However, the heart of Rum Diary's story is Kemp's internal conflict with himself, whether it be falling in love with his colleagues girlfriend, or contemplating his morality while trapped in the snare of one lost weekend after another

I ... sat there and drank, trying to decide whether I was getting older and wiser, or just plain old

As the book progresses, we are exposed to his collisions with himself, and his analysis of his contemporaries.

I could see myself in Caracas and Bagota and Rio, wheeling and dealing through a world I had never seen but knew I could handle because I’m a champ. But it was pure masturbation, because deep down in my gut I wanted nothing more than a clean bed and a bright room and something to call my own at least until I got sick of it. There was an awful suspicion in my mind that I’d finally gone over the hump, and the worst thing about it was that I didn’t feel tragic at all, but only weary, and sort of comfortably detached.

Throughout the book, Kemp loathes the situation that he has gotten himself into and ponders on 'past highs'.

Listening to him I realized how long it had been since I felt I had the world by the balls, how many quick birthdays had gone by since that first year in Europe when I was so ignorant and so confident that every splinter of luck made me feel like a champion.

The Rum Diary is ultimately not so much of a novel about how to live in a foreign land, but serves as a cautionary tale about why it's worth escaping. To me, nothing can be more from the truth about my current situation.

When the sun got hot enough ... it burned away all the illusions and I saw the place as it was ... cheap ... sullen ... and garnish ... nothing good was going to happen here.