Pliny the Elder has been reading The Rum Diary by Hunter S Thompson. He finished it this morning.
What did you think of it, Pliny? I asked. Was it any good?
I cannot say, said Pliny.
But you've just read the whole thing! You must know, I said.
The problem is, said Pliny, it's not the sort of book I would normally choose. I borrowed it from your daughter, who told me she hadn't read it herself, but that a male friend of hers had read it while on holiday, and enjoyed it very much.
Well, what is it about? I asked.
It's about a young man who goes to San Juan in the 1950s to work on a newspaper, and all the shifty characters he meets. It's about jealousy and violence and treachery, and how much rum and beer he drinks.
That doesn't sound like you! Is there more to it?
Not much. The young man fears growing old. I suppose that is of interest. It was written in 1960, when Hunter S Thompson was only 22, but wasn't published until 1998, when he was more famous.
I see. So it wasn't any good when he first wrote it, but after he became famous for writing other things, it was published, and now it may actually be quite good?
I wouldn't say that, said Pliny, non-committally.
I noticed that you read it rather quickly, I observed.
Mmm, said Pliny, wandering off.
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