Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas / Страх и отвращение в Лас-Вегасе
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas / Страх и отвращение в Лас-Вегасе
Хантер Стоктон Томпсон
Abridged & Adapted
Доктор журналистики Рауль Дюк и его адвокат Доктор Гонзо отправляются в Лас-Вегас на поиски знаменитой американской мечты. Там они совершают самые немыслимые поступки, однако чудесным образом им всё сходит с рук. По словам самого автора, они открыли для себя способ «жить так, чтобы можно было веселиться, быть диким, пить виски, до утра не ложиться спать, гонять на автомобиле по пустым улицам, чтобы в лицо дул свежий ветер и чтобы не иметь в голове ничего, кроме желания кого-то любить и не быть арестованными».
В своём культовом сатирическом и автобиографическом романе икона контркультуры Хантер Томпсон ностальгирует по прошлому, прославляет революционную эпоху 60-х и глумится над консервативным американским обществом 70-х гг.
Текст сокращён и адаптирован. Уровень B1.
Хантер Томпсон
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas / Страх и отвращение в Лас-Вегасе
© Шитова А. В., адаптация, сокращение, словарь, 2023
© ООО «Издательство «Антология»,2023
* * *
PART ONE
1
We were somewhere near Barstow[1 - Барстоу – город в штате Калифорния, США], in the desert, when the drugs began to take hold[2 - нас торкнуло / начало накрывать / колбасить (жарг.)]. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit dizzy; maybe you should drive…” And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, flying around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas[3 - Лас-Вегас – город в штате Невада, США; один из крупнейших мировых центров развлечений и игорного бизнеса]. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn[4 - чёртовы / треклятые] animals?”
Then all was quiet again. My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest to speed up the tanning process.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, staring up at the sun with his eyes closed and covered with sunglasses.
“Never mind[5 - Ничего, забудь.],” I said. “It's your turn to drive.”
I hit the brakes and pulled the Great Red Shark[6 - Так автор книги Хантер Томпсон называл свой кабриолет «Шевроле Импала» 1971 г. (прим. сост.)] over to the side of the highway. No point mentioning[7 - Нет смысла упоминать]those bats, I thought. Soon the poor bastard will see them himself.
It was almost noon, and we still had more than a hundred miles to go. Difficult miles. Very soon, I knew, we would both be completely twisted[8 - нас будет штырить / плющить по полной (жарг.)]. But there was no going back, and no time to rest. We would ride it out[9 - Ничего, по дороге всё выветрится.]. Press-registration for the fabulous Mint 400[10 - Самые популярные гонки внедорожников по пустыне штата Невада в окрестностях Лас-Вегаса, впервые организованные в 1968 г. (прим. сост.)] had already started, and we had to be there by four to get our sound-proof suite. A fashionable sporting magazine in New York had paid for the reservations and this huge red Chevy[11 - «Шевроле» (разг.)] convertible we rented… and I was, after all, a professional journalist, so I had to cover the story, for good or ill[12 - так или иначе / в любом случае мне надо было провести репортаж с места событий].
The sporting-editors had also given me $300 in cash, most of which was already spent on extremely dangerous drugs. The trunk of our car looked like a mobile police narcotics lab. We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, a galaxy of uppers and downers, and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser[13 - «Бадвайзер» (или «Будвайзер») – светлое пиво, популярное в США], a pint of ether, and two dozen amyls.[14 - зд. перечислены различные сильнодействующие вещества: травка, мескалин, кислота, кокаин, опиаты, барбитураты, стимуляторы, эфир, амилнитрит и пр. (прим. сост.)] All this had been collected the night before. Driving all over Los Angeles[15 - Лос-Анджелес – город на юге штата Калифорния, США], we picked up everything we could get our hands on. It's not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug collection, you go as far as you can.
The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible than a man on ether. And I knew we’d get into that stuff pretty soon. Probably at the next gas station. We had tried almost everything else, and now – yes, it was time for ether. And then do the next hundred miles in a horrible stupor. The only way to stay focused on ether is to do a lot of amyls – not all at once, but regularly, just enough to drive at ninety miles an hour through Barstow.
“Man, this is the way to travel,” said my attorney. He turned the volume up on the radio, humming along.
I could hardly hear the radio because I turned our tape recorder all the way up on “Sympathy for the Devil”[16 - Ритмичная песня группы The Rolling Stones (прим. сост.)]. That was the only tape we had, so we played it over and over again[17 - снова и снова], along with the radio and also to keep our rhythm on the road. A constant speed, for some reason, seemed important at the time. Indeed, on a trip like this, one must be careful to avoid acceleration that draws blood to the back of the brain.
* * *
My attorney saw the hitchhiker long before I did.
“Let’s give this boy a lift,” he said, and before I could argue, he stopped, and this poor kid was running up to the car with a big grin on his face, saying, “Damn![18 - Чёрт возьми!] I never rode in a convertible before!”
“Is that so?” I said. “Well, I guess you’re ready then, eh?”
The kid nodded as we roared off.
“We’re your friends,” said my attorney. “We’re not like the others.”
Oh Christ, I thought, he’s already high[19 - да его уже торкнуло (жарг.)].
“No more of that talk,” I said sharply. “Or I’ll put the leeches on you.”
He grinned, seeming to understand. Luckily, the noise in the car was so awful – with the wind and the radio and the tape recorder – that the kid in the back seat couldn’t hear a word we were saying. Or could he?
How long can we maintain?[20 - Сколько мы ещё продержимся?] I wondered. How long before one of us starts jumping at this boy? What will he think then when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge rays coming down on the car? Well, we’ll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere. Because we can’t let him go. He’ll report us at once to some Nazi, and they’ll track us down[21 - и они нас выследят].
Jesus! Did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me? I glanced at my attorney, but he was watching the road, driving our Great Red Shark at a hundred and ten or so. There was no sound from the back seat. Maybe I’d better have a chat with this boy, I thought. Maybe if I explain things, he’ll relax. Of course. I turned around in the seat and gave him a fine big smile.
“By the way,” I said. “There’s one thing you should probably understand.”
He stared at me, not blinking.
“Can you hear me?” I yelled.
He nodded.
“That’s good,” I said. “Because I want you to know that we’re on our way to Las Vegas to find the American Dream[22 - Американская мечта – жизненные идеалы граждан США, «мечта о стране, в которой жизнь каждого человека будет лучше, богаче и полнее, и он сможет получить всё то, чего заслуживает»; впервые термин появился в трактате Дж. Адамса (1931 г.) (прим. сост.)].” I smiled. “That’s why we rented this car. It was the only way to do it. Understand that?”
He nodded again, but his eyes were nervous.
“I want you to understand it,” I said. “Because this is a very serious assignment… extreme personal danger… Hell, I forgot about this beer; you want one?”
He shook his head.
“How about some ether?” I said.
“What?”
“Never mind. Let’s see. About twenty-four hours ago we were sitting in the patio of the Beverly Hills Hotel[23 - Знаменитый роскошный пятизвёздочный отель в Лос-Анджелесе (прим. сост.)] under a palm tree when this uniformed dwarf came up to me with a pink telephone and said, ‘This must be the call you’ve been waiting for all this time, sir.’” I laughed and opened a beer can that spilled all over the back seat. “And you know what? He was right! I’d been waiting for that call, but I didn’t know who it would come from. Do you understand me?” The boy’s face was a mask of pure bewilderment.
I went on: “I want you to understand that this man at the wheel is my attorney! Jesus Christ, look at him! He doesn’t look like you or me, right? That’s because he’s a foreigner. I think he’s probably Samoan[24 - Самоанцы – коренное население островов Самоа в Полинезии (прим. сост.)]. But it doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Oh, hell no!” the boy cried.
“Exactly,” I said. “Because this man is extremely valuable to me.” I looked at my attorney, but his mind was somewhere else. I hit the back of the driver’s seat with my fist. “This is important, goddamn it[25 - Чёрт побери!]! This is a true story!”
The car swerved.
“Keep your hands off my goddamn neck!” my attorney screamed.
The kid in the back looked like he was ready to jump right out of the car. Our vibrations were getting nasty – but why? Was there no communication in this car?
I was puzzled, frustrated because my story was true. I was certain of that. And it was extremely important, I felt, for the meaning of our journey to be absolutely clear.
* * *
We had actually been sitting there in the Beverly Hills Hotel – for many hours – drinking gin cocktails with beer and mescaline. And when the call came, I was ready.
The dwarf came up to our table, as I remember, and when he handed me the pink telephone I said nothing, just listened. And then I hung up, turning to my attorney.
“That was headquarters,” I said. “They want me to go to Las Vegas now, and make contact with a Portuguese[26 - португалец] photographer named Lacerda. He’ll have the details. All I have to do is check into my suite and he’ll find me.”
My attorney said nothing for a moment, then he suddenly came alive in his chair.
“God hell!” he exclaimed. “ This one sounds like real trouble!” He called for more drink. “You’re going to need legal advice[27 - консультация адвоката / юридическая помощь] before this thing is over,” he said. “And my first advice is that you should rent a very fast car with no top and get the hell out of L.A. for at least forty-eight hours.” He shook his head sadly. “This ruins my weekend, because naturally I’ll have to go with you.”
“Why not?” I said. “If a thing like this is worth doing at all, it should be done right. We’ll need some equipment and lots of cash – for drugs and a tape recorder.”
“What kind of a story is this?” my attorney asked.
“The Mint 400,” I said. “It’s the richest off-the-road race for motorcycles and dune-buggies[28 - Багги – небольшой лёгкий автомобиль высокой проходимости (прим. сост.)] in the history of organized sport – a fantastic show in honor of some man named Del Webb, who owns the luxurious Mint Hotel in the heart of downtown Las Vegas… at least that’s what the press release says; my man in New York just read it to me.”
“Well,” he said, “as your attorney I advise you to buy a motorcycle. How else can you cover a thing like this?[29 - В 1960–1980 гг. «Минт» был известным в Лас-Вегасе отелем и казино, спонсировавшим гонку «Минт 400». Крупный владелец недвижимости Делберт Ю. Уэбб приобрёл отель в 1961 г. (прим. сост.)][30 - А иначе как ты сможешь вести репортаж с места событий?]”
“No way,” I said. “Where can we get a Vincent Black Shadow[31 - Британский скоростной мотоцикл, производившийся с 1948 г. По праву считается одним из лучших в истории мотоспорта (прим. сост.)]?”
“What’s that?”
“A fantastic bike,” I said. “The new model.”
“That sounds right for this thing,” he said.
“It is,” I told him. “The bike’s pure hell on the road.” “Can we handle that?[32 - А мы с ним справимся?]” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll call New York for some cash.”
2
The New York office did not know anything about the Vincent Black Shadow: they sent me to the Los Angeles office – which was actually just a few blocks from the hotel – but when I got there, the money-woman refused to give me more than $300 in cash.
She had no idea who I was, she said, and by that time I was sweating. I have never been able to properly explain myself in this California climate – not with the sweat… or wild red eyes and shaking hands.
So I took the $300 and left. My attorney was waiting in a bar around the corner.
“This won’t do[33 - Этого будет маловато.],” he said, “we have to have unlimited credit.”
I told him we would.
“You Samoans are all the same,” I told him. “You have no faith in the white man’s culture. Jesus, just one hour ago we were sitting in that hotel, broke and paralyzed for the weekend, when a call comes from some total stranger in New York, telling me to go to Las Vegas – and then he sends me to some office in Beverly Hills[34 - Беверли-Хиллз – город в округе Лос-Анджелес, США] where another total stranger gives me $300 in cash for no reason at all… I tell you, man, this is the American Dream in action!”
“Indeed,” he said.
“Right,” I said. “But first we need the car. And after that, the cocaine. And then the tape recorder, for special music, and some Acapulco shirts[35 - Акапулько – курортный город в Мексике; зд. имеются в виду яркие цветастые рубашки (прим. сост.)].” The only way to prepare for a trip like this was to dress up like peacocks, get crazy and cover the story.
But what was the story? Nobody had told us. So we would have to do it all on our own. Free enterprise. The American Dream. Do it now: pure Gonzo journalism[36 - Гонзо-журналистика (англ. gonzo – чокнутый) – стиль субъективного репортажа от первого лица, то есть непосредственного участника событий. Основоположником стиля является сам Хантер Томпсон (прим. сост.)].
* * *
Getting the drugs had been no problem, but the car and the tape recorder were difficult to find at 6:30 on a Friday afternoon in Hollywood[37 - Голливуд – район Лос-Анджелеса]. I already had one car, but it was too small and slow for the desert. We went to a Polynesian[38 - полинезийский] bar where my attorney made seventeen calls before finding a convertible with proper horsepower and color.
“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I heard him say into the phone. Then after a pause, he began shouting: “What? Of course the gentleman has a credit card! Do you realize who the hell you’re talking to?”
“Now we need a sound store with the finest equipment,” I said as he put the phone down. “We want a tape recorder with that new mike for picking up conversations in passing cars.”
We made several more calls and finally found our equipment in a store about five miles away. It was closed, but the salesman said he would wait, if we hurried. But there was an accident on the main road, and in the end we were late. Bad luck. The store was closed by the time we got there. There were people inside, but they refused to come to the glass door until we gave it a few kicks.
Finally two salesmen with tire irons came to the door and we managed to do the sale. They opened the door just wide enough to push the equipment out, before closing and locking it again.
“Now take that stuff and get the hell out of here,” one of them shouted.
My attorney shook his fist at them. “We’ll be back,” he yelled. “One of these days I’ll throw a goddamn bomb into this place! I have your names! I’ll find out where you live and burn your houses down! You psychos…”
* * *
We had trouble, again, at the car rental agency. After signing all the papers, I got in the car and almost lost control of it while backing across the lot to the gas pump. The rental-man was obviously shocked.
“Say. uh. you fellows are going to be careful with this car, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Well, good god!” he said. “You just backed and you didn’t even slow down! You were lucky to miss the pump.”
“No damage done,” I said. “I always test a transmission that way. For stress factors.”
Meanwhile, my attorney was busy carrying rum and ice to the back seat of the convertible. The rental-man watched him nervously.
“Say,” he said. “Are you fellows drinking?”
“Not me,” I said.
“Just fill the goddamn tank,” my attorney said. “We’re in a hell of a hurry. We’re on our way to Las Vegas for a desert race.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” I said. “We’re responsible people.”
I watched him fill the tank with gas; then I started the engine.
“Another psycho,” said my attorney. “To hell with him. We have a lot of business to take care of, before we can get on the road.”
“You’re right,” I said. “And for Christ’s sake[39 - Христа ради] don’t smoke that pipe at stoplights. We’re exposed[40 - В кабриолете мы же у всех на виду.].” He nodded. “We need a big hookah. Keep it down there on the back seat, out of sight. If anybody sees us, they’ll think we’re using oxygen.”
We spent the rest of that night gathering materials and packing the car. Then we ate the mescaline and went swimming in the ocean. At dawn we had breakfast in a Malibu[41 - Малибу – престижный курорт на побережье Тихого океана в южной части штата Калифорния (прим. сост.)] coffee shop, then drove very carefully across town and right onto the freeway, heading East.
3
I was still slightly shocked by our hitchhiker’s words that he had “never ridden in a convertible before.” Here’s this poor guy, living in a world of convertibles that are passing him on the highways all the time, and he’s never even ridden in one. I felt like giving[42 - Мне захотелось отдать] the car to this poor bastard, just saying: “Here, the car’s yours.” Give him the keys and then use the credit card to fly on a jet to some place like Miami[43 - Майами – город на побережье Атлантического океана в штате Флорида, США] and rent another huge red convertible for a ride all the way to Key West[44 - Ки-Уэст – город на острове архипелага Флорида-Кис в штате Флорида, США]… and then exchange the car for a boat… Keep moving…
But this crazy idea passed quickly. I had plans for this car. I was looking forward to driving around Las Vegas in it. Maybe do a bit of serious racing – pull up to a big stoplight and start screaming at the traffic: “All right, you suckers[45 - уроды / отморозки (груб.)]! When this goddamn light turns green, I’m going to step on it[46 - я сейчас как надавлю на газ] and blow every one of you off the road!” Right. Challenge the bastards, with a bottle of rum in one hand, revving the engine, skidding, waiting for the light to change. How often does one get a chance like that?
But our trip was different. It was a declaration of everything right and true that is present in the national character. It was a salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country.
My attorney understood this concept, despite his race, but our hitchhiker didn’t. He said he understood, but I could see in his eyes that he didn’t. He was lying to me.
* * *
The car suddenly turned off the road and we stopped. My attorney was leaning over the wheel.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled. “We can’t stop here. This is a bat country!”
“My heart,” he groaned. “Where’s the medicine?”
“Oh,” I said. “The medicine, yes, it’s right here.” I reached into the bag for the amyls.
The kid seemed terrified.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “This man has a bad heart. But we have the cure for it. Yes, here they are.” I took four amyls out of the tin box and handed two of them to my attorney. He cracked one under his nose and fell back on the seat, staring straight up at the sun. I did the same thing.
“Turn up the goddamn music!” he screamed. “Volume! Bass! What’s wrong with us? Are we some goddamn old ladies?”
I turned both the radio and the tape recorder up.
“You bastard,” I said. “Watch your language! You’re talking to a Doctor of Journalism!”
He was laughing out of control. “What the heck[47 - какого чёрта / хрена (груб.)] are we doing out here on this desert?” he shouted. “Somebody call the police! We need help!”
“Don’t pay attention to this pig,” I said to the hitchhiker. “He can’t handle the medicine. Actually, we’re both Doctors of Journalism, and we’re on our way to Las Vegas to cover the main story of our generation.” And then I began laughing.
My attorney turned to the hitchhiker.
“The truth is,” he said, “we’re going to Vegas to kill a drug baron named Savage Henry. I’ve known him for years, but he ripped us off – and you know what that means, right?”
I wanted him to shut up, but we were both helpless with laughter. What the hell were we doing here, on this desert, when we both had bad hearts?
“Savage Henry is a dead man!” my attorney yelled at the kid in the back seat. “We’re going to cut his heart out!”
“And eat it!” I shouted. “That bastard won’t get away with this! What’s going on in this country when a sucker like that can rip off a Doctor of Journalism?”
Nobody answered.
My attorney was cracking another amyl when the kid climbed out of the back seat.
“Thanks for the ride,” he yelled. “Thanks a lot. I like you guys. Don’t worry about me.”
His feet hit the asphalt and he started running back. In the middle of the desert, not a tree in sight.
“Wait a minute,” I yelled. “Come back and get a beer.”
But probably he couldn’t hear me. The music was very loud, and he was moving away from us very fast.
* * *
“Good riddance[48 - Избавились, и слава богу],” said my attorney. “That boy was a real freak. He made me nervous. Did you see his eyes?” He was still laughing. “Jesus, this is good medicine!”
I opened the car door and went to the driver’s side.
“I’ll drive,” I said. “We have to get out of California before that kid finds a cop.”
“That’ll be hours,” said my attorney. “He’s a hundred miles from anywhere.”
“So are we,” I said. “Open the tequila. We must get to the Mint Hotel before the end of the press registration, or we’ll have to pay for our suite.”
He nodded. “But let’s forget that bullshit[49 - чушь / брехня (груб.)] about the American Dream,” he said. “I think it’s time to chew a blotter[50 - промокашка – кусочек бумаги, пропитанный ЛСД (жарг.)]. That cheap mescaline wore off a long time ago, and I don’t know if I can stand the smell of that ether any longer.”
“Speaking of which,” I said. “I think it’s time to get into the ether and the cocaine.”
“Forget ether,” he said. “Let’s save it for the rug in the suite. But here’s this. Your half of the blotter. Just chew it.”
I took the blotter and ate it. My attorney was now taking out the salt shaker with the cocaine. Opening it. Spilling it. Then screaming and grabbing at the air, as our white dust blew up and across the desert highway. A very expensive little twister rising up from the Great Red Shark.
“Oh, Jesus!” he cried. “Did you see what God just did to us?”
“God didn’t do that!” I shouted. “You did it. You pig!”
“You better be careful,” he said, and suddenly he was waving a black.357 Magnum[51 - Американский револьвер большой мощности] at me.
“You fool,” I said. “When we get to Las Vegas, what do you think the local drug barons will do when I show up with a Samoan narcotics agent?”
“They’ll kill us both,” he said. “Savage Henry knows who I am. I’m your attorney.” He started laughing wildly.
“You’re full of acid, you idiot. It’ll be a miracle if we get to the hotel and check in before you turn into a wild animal. Are you ready for that?”
He was laughing again, then he put his nose down the salt shaker, together with the thin green roll of a $20 bill, straight into what was left of the powder.
“How long do we have?” I asked.
“Maybe thirty more minutes,” he answered. “As your attorney I advise you to drive at top speed.”
* * *
Las Vegas was just ahead of us. I could see the hotel skyline through the blue desert haze: The Sahara, the Landmark, the Americana and the Thunderbird – grey rectangles in the distance, rising out of the cactus.
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notes
Notes
1
Барстоу – город в штате Калифорния, США
2
нас торкнуло / начало накрывать / колбасить (жарг.)
3
Лас-Вегас – город в штате Невада, США; один из крупнейших мировых центров развлечений и игорного бизнеса
4
чёртовы / треклятые
5
Ничего, забудь.
6
Так автор книги Хантер Томпсон называл свой кабриолет «Шевроле Импала» 1971 г. (прим. сост.)
7
Нет смысла упоминать
8
нас будет штырить / плющить по полной (жарг.)
9
Ничего, по дороге всё выветрится.
10
Самые популярные гонки внедорожников по пустыне штата Невада в окрестностях Лас-Вегаса, впервые организованные в 1968 г. (прим. сост.)
11
«Шевроле» (разг.)
12
так или иначе / в любом случае мне надо было провести репортаж с места событий
13
«Бадвайзер» (или «Будвайзер») – светлое пиво, популярное в США
14
зд. перечислены различные сильнодействующие вещества: травка, мескалин, кислота, кокаин, опиаты, барбитураты, стимуляторы, эфир, амилнитрит и пр. (прим. сост.)
15
Лос-Анджелес – город на юге штата Калифорния, США
16
Ритмичная песня группы The Rolling Stones (прим. сост.)
17
снова и снова
18
Чёрт возьми!
19
да его уже торкнуло (жарг.)
20
Сколько мы ещё продержимся?
21
и они нас выследят
22
Американская мечта – жизненные идеалы граждан США, «мечта о стране, в которой жизнь каждого человека будет лучше, богаче и полнее, и он сможет получить всё то, чего заслуживает»; впервые термин появился в трактате Дж. Адамса (1931 г.) (прим. сост.)
23
Знаменитый роскошный пятизвёздочный отель в Лос-Анджелесе (прим. сост.)
24
Самоанцы – коренное население островов Самоа в Полинезии (прим. сост.)
25
Чёрт побери!
26
португалец
27
консультация адвоката / юридическая помощь
28
Багги – небольшой лёгкий автомобиль высокой проходимости (прим. сост.)
29
В 1960–1980 гг. «Минт» был известным в Лас-Вегасе отелем и казино, спонсировавшим гонку «Минт 400». Крупный владелец недвижимости Делберт Ю. Уэбб приобрёл отель в 1961 г. (прим. сост.)
30
А иначе как ты сможешь вести репортаж с места событий?
31
Британский скоростной мотоцикл, производившийся с 1948 г. По праву считается одним из лучших в истории мотоспорта (прим. сост.)
32
А мы с ним справимся?
33
Этого будет маловато.
34
Беверли-Хиллз – город в округе Лос-Анджелес, США
35
Акапулько – курортный город в Мексике; зд. имеются в виду яркие цветастые рубашки (прим. сост.)
36
Гонзо-журналистика (англ. gonzo – чокнутый) – стиль субъективного репортажа от первого лица, то есть непосредственного участника событий. Основоположником стиля является сам Хантер Томпсон (прим. сост.)
37
Голливуд – район Лос-Анджелеса
38
полинезийский
39
Христа ради
40
В кабриолете мы же у всех на виду.
41
Малибу – престижный курорт на побережье Тихого океана в южной части штата Калифорния (прим. сост.)
42
Мне захотелось отдать
43
Майами – город на побережье Атлантического океана в штате Флорида, США
44
Ки-Уэст – город на острове архипелага Флорида-Кис в штате Флорида, США
45
уроды / отморозки (груб.)
46
я сейчас как надавлю на газ
47
какого чёрта / хрена (груб.)
48
Избавились, и слава богу
49
чушь / брехня (груб.)
50
промокашка – кусочек бумаги, пропитанный ЛСД (жарг.)
51
Американский револьвер большой мощности
Хантер Стоктон Томпсон
Abridged & Adapted
Доктор журналистики Рауль Дюк и его адвокат Доктор Гонзо отправляются в Лас-Вегас на поиски знаменитой американской мечты. Там они совершают самые немыслимые поступки, однако чудесным образом им всё сходит с рук. По словам самого автора, они открыли для себя способ «жить так, чтобы можно было веселиться, быть диким, пить виски, до утра не ложиться спать, гонять на автомобиле по пустым улицам, чтобы в лицо дул свежий ветер и чтобы не иметь в голове ничего, кроме желания кого-то любить и не быть арестованными».
В своём культовом сатирическом и автобиографическом романе икона контркультуры Хантер Томпсон ностальгирует по прошлому, прославляет революционную эпоху 60-х и глумится над консервативным американским обществом 70-х гг.
Текст сокращён и адаптирован. Уровень B1.
Хантер Томпсон
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas / Страх и отвращение в Лас-Вегасе
© Шитова А. В., адаптация, сокращение, словарь, 2023
© ООО «Издательство «Антология»,2023
* * *
PART ONE
1
We were somewhere near Barstow[1 - Барстоу – город в штате Калифорния, США], in the desert, when the drugs began to take hold[2 - нас торкнуло / начало накрывать / колбасить (жарг.)]. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit dizzy; maybe you should drive…” And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, flying around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas[3 - Лас-Вегас – город в штате Невада, США; один из крупнейших мировых центров развлечений и игорного бизнеса]. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn[4 - чёртовы / треклятые] animals?”
Then all was quiet again. My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest to speed up the tanning process.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, staring up at the sun with his eyes closed and covered with sunglasses.
“Never mind[5 - Ничего, забудь.],” I said. “It's your turn to drive.”
I hit the brakes and pulled the Great Red Shark[6 - Так автор книги Хантер Томпсон называл свой кабриолет «Шевроле Импала» 1971 г. (прим. сост.)] over to the side of the highway. No point mentioning[7 - Нет смысла упоминать]those bats, I thought. Soon the poor bastard will see them himself.
It was almost noon, and we still had more than a hundred miles to go. Difficult miles. Very soon, I knew, we would both be completely twisted[8 - нас будет штырить / плющить по полной (жарг.)]. But there was no going back, and no time to rest. We would ride it out[9 - Ничего, по дороге всё выветрится.]. Press-registration for the fabulous Mint 400[10 - Самые популярные гонки внедорожников по пустыне штата Невада в окрестностях Лас-Вегаса, впервые организованные в 1968 г. (прим. сост.)] had already started, and we had to be there by four to get our sound-proof suite. A fashionable sporting magazine in New York had paid for the reservations and this huge red Chevy[11 - «Шевроле» (разг.)] convertible we rented… and I was, after all, a professional journalist, so I had to cover the story, for good or ill[12 - так или иначе / в любом случае мне надо было провести репортаж с места событий].
The sporting-editors had also given me $300 in cash, most of which was already spent on extremely dangerous drugs. The trunk of our car looked like a mobile police narcotics lab. We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, a galaxy of uppers and downers, and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser[13 - «Бадвайзер» (или «Будвайзер») – светлое пиво, популярное в США], a pint of ether, and two dozen amyls.[14 - зд. перечислены различные сильнодействующие вещества: травка, мескалин, кислота, кокаин, опиаты, барбитураты, стимуляторы, эфир, амилнитрит и пр. (прим. сост.)] All this had been collected the night before. Driving all over Los Angeles[15 - Лос-Анджелес – город на юге штата Калифорния, США], we picked up everything we could get our hands on. It's not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug collection, you go as far as you can.
The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible than a man on ether. And I knew we’d get into that stuff pretty soon. Probably at the next gas station. We had tried almost everything else, and now – yes, it was time for ether. And then do the next hundred miles in a horrible stupor. The only way to stay focused on ether is to do a lot of amyls – not all at once, but regularly, just enough to drive at ninety miles an hour through Barstow.
“Man, this is the way to travel,” said my attorney. He turned the volume up on the radio, humming along.
I could hardly hear the radio because I turned our tape recorder all the way up on “Sympathy for the Devil”[16 - Ритмичная песня группы The Rolling Stones (прим. сост.)]. That was the only tape we had, so we played it over and over again[17 - снова и снова], along with the radio and also to keep our rhythm on the road. A constant speed, for some reason, seemed important at the time. Indeed, on a trip like this, one must be careful to avoid acceleration that draws blood to the back of the brain.
* * *
My attorney saw the hitchhiker long before I did.
“Let’s give this boy a lift,” he said, and before I could argue, he stopped, and this poor kid was running up to the car with a big grin on his face, saying, “Damn![18 - Чёрт возьми!] I never rode in a convertible before!”
“Is that so?” I said. “Well, I guess you’re ready then, eh?”
The kid nodded as we roared off.
“We’re your friends,” said my attorney. “We’re not like the others.”
Oh Christ, I thought, he’s already high[19 - да его уже торкнуло (жарг.)].
“No more of that talk,” I said sharply. “Or I’ll put the leeches on you.”
He grinned, seeming to understand. Luckily, the noise in the car was so awful – with the wind and the radio and the tape recorder – that the kid in the back seat couldn’t hear a word we were saying. Or could he?
How long can we maintain?[20 - Сколько мы ещё продержимся?] I wondered. How long before one of us starts jumping at this boy? What will he think then when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge rays coming down on the car? Well, we’ll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere. Because we can’t let him go. He’ll report us at once to some Nazi, and they’ll track us down[21 - и они нас выследят].
Jesus! Did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me? I glanced at my attorney, but he was watching the road, driving our Great Red Shark at a hundred and ten or so. There was no sound from the back seat. Maybe I’d better have a chat with this boy, I thought. Maybe if I explain things, he’ll relax. Of course. I turned around in the seat and gave him a fine big smile.
“By the way,” I said. “There’s one thing you should probably understand.”
He stared at me, not blinking.
“Can you hear me?” I yelled.
He nodded.
“That’s good,” I said. “Because I want you to know that we’re on our way to Las Vegas to find the American Dream[22 - Американская мечта – жизненные идеалы граждан США, «мечта о стране, в которой жизнь каждого человека будет лучше, богаче и полнее, и он сможет получить всё то, чего заслуживает»; впервые термин появился в трактате Дж. Адамса (1931 г.) (прим. сост.)].” I smiled. “That’s why we rented this car. It was the only way to do it. Understand that?”
He nodded again, but his eyes were nervous.
“I want you to understand it,” I said. “Because this is a very serious assignment… extreme personal danger… Hell, I forgot about this beer; you want one?”
He shook his head.
“How about some ether?” I said.
“What?”
“Never mind. Let’s see. About twenty-four hours ago we were sitting in the patio of the Beverly Hills Hotel[23 - Знаменитый роскошный пятизвёздочный отель в Лос-Анджелесе (прим. сост.)] under a palm tree when this uniformed dwarf came up to me with a pink telephone and said, ‘This must be the call you’ve been waiting for all this time, sir.’” I laughed and opened a beer can that spilled all over the back seat. “And you know what? He was right! I’d been waiting for that call, but I didn’t know who it would come from. Do you understand me?” The boy’s face was a mask of pure bewilderment.
I went on: “I want you to understand that this man at the wheel is my attorney! Jesus Christ, look at him! He doesn’t look like you or me, right? That’s because he’s a foreigner. I think he’s probably Samoan[24 - Самоанцы – коренное население островов Самоа в Полинезии (прим. сост.)]. But it doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Oh, hell no!” the boy cried.
“Exactly,” I said. “Because this man is extremely valuable to me.” I looked at my attorney, but his mind was somewhere else. I hit the back of the driver’s seat with my fist. “This is important, goddamn it[25 - Чёрт побери!]! This is a true story!”
The car swerved.
“Keep your hands off my goddamn neck!” my attorney screamed.
The kid in the back looked like he was ready to jump right out of the car. Our vibrations were getting nasty – but why? Was there no communication in this car?
I was puzzled, frustrated because my story was true. I was certain of that. And it was extremely important, I felt, for the meaning of our journey to be absolutely clear.
* * *
We had actually been sitting there in the Beverly Hills Hotel – for many hours – drinking gin cocktails with beer and mescaline. And when the call came, I was ready.
The dwarf came up to our table, as I remember, and when he handed me the pink telephone I said nothing, just listened. And then I hung up, turning to my attorney.
“That was headquarters,” I said. “They want me to go to Las Vegas now, and make contact with a Portuguese[26 - португалец] photographer named Lacerda. He’ll have the details. All I have to do is check into my suite and he’ll find me.”
My attorney said nothing for a moment, then he suddenly came alive in his chair.
“God hell!” he exclaimed. “ This one sounds like real trouble!” He called for more drink. “You’re going to need legal advice[27 - консультация адвоката / юридическая помощь] before this thing is over,” he said. “And my first advice is that you should rent a very fast car with no top and get the hell out of L.A. for at least forty-eight hours.” He shook his head sadly. “This ruins my weekend, because naturally I’ll have to go with you.”
“Why not?” I said. “If a thing like this is worth doing at all, it should be done right. We’ll need some equipment and lots of cash – for drugs and a tape recorder.”
“What kind of a story is this?” my attorney asked.
“The Mint 400,” I said. “It’s the richest off-the-road race for motorcycles and dune-buggies[28 - Багги – небольшой лёгкий автомобиль высокой проходимости (прим. сост.)] in the history of organized sport – a fantastic show in honor of some man named Del Webb, who owns the luxurious Mint Hotel in the heart of downtown Las Vegas… at least that’s what the press release says; my man in New York just read it to me.”
“Well,” he said, “as your attorney I advise you to buy a motorcycle. How else can you cover a thing like this?[29 - В 1960–1980 гг. «Минт» был известным в Лас-Вегасе отелем и казино, спонсировавшим гонку «Минт 400». Крупный владелец недвижимости Делберт Ю. Уэбб приобрёл отель в 1961 г. (прим. сост.)][30 - А иначе как ты сможешь вести репортаж с места событий?]”
“No way,” I said. “Where can we get a Vincent Black Shadow[31 - Британский скоростной мотоцикл, производившийся с 1948 г. По праву считается одним из лучших в истории мотоспорта (прим. сост.)]?”
“What’s that?”
“A fantastic bike,” I said. “The new model.”
“That sounds right for this thing,” he said.
“It is,” I told him. “The bike’s pure hell on the road.” “Can we handle that?[32 - А мы с ним справимся?]” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll call New York for some cash.”
2
The New York office did not know anything about the Vincent Black Shadow: they sent me to the Los Angeles office – which was actually just a few blocks from the hotel – but when I got there, the money-woman refused to give me more than $300 in cash.
She had no idea who I was, she said, and by that time I was sweating. I have never been able to properly explain myself in this California climate – not with the sweat… or wild red eyes and shaking hands.
So I took the $300 and left. My attorney was waiting in a bar around the corner.
“This won’t do[33 - Этого будет маловато.],” he said, “we have to have unlimited credit.”
I told him we would.
“You Samoans are all the same,” I told him. “You have no faith in the white man’s culture. Jesus, just one hour ago we were sitting in that hotel, broke and paralyzed for the weekend, when a call comes from some total stranger in New York, telling me to go to Las Vegas – and then he sends me to some office in Beverly Hills[34 - Беверли-Хиллз – город в округе Лос-Анджелес, США] where another total stranger gives me $300 in cash for no reason at all… I tell you, man, this is the American Dream in action!”
“Indeed,” he said.
“Right,” I said. “But first we need the car. And after that, the cocaine. And then the tape recorder, for special music, and some Acapulco shirts[35 - Акапулько – курортный город в Мексике; зд. имеются в виду яркие цветастые рубашки (прим. сост.)].” The only way to prepare for a trip like this was to dress up like peacocks, get crazy and cover the story.
But what was the story? Nobody had told us. So we would have to do it all on our own. Free enterprise. The American Dream. Do it now: pure Gonzo journalism[36 - Гонзо-журналистика (англ. gonzo – чокнутый) – стиль субъективного репортажа от первого лица, то есть непосредственного участника событий. Основоположником стиля является сам Хантер Томпсон (прим. сост.)].
* * *
Getting the drugs had been no problem, but the car and the tape recorder were difficult to find at 6:30 on a Friday afternoon in Hollywood[37 - Голливуд – район Лос-Анджелеса]. I already had one car, but it was too small and slow for the desert. We went to a Polynesian[38 - полинезийский] bar where my attorney made seventeen calls before finding a convertible with proper horsepower and color.
“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I heard him say into the phone. Then after a pause, he began shouting: “What? Of course the gentleman has a credit card! Do you realize who the hell you’re talking to?”
“Now we need a sound store with the finest equipment,” I said as he put the phone down. “We want a tape recorder with that new mike for picking up conversations in passing cars.”
We made several more calls and finally found our equipment in a store about five miles away. It was closed, but the salesman said he would wait, if we hurried. But there was an accident on the main road, and in the end we were late. Bad luck. The store was closed by the time we got there. There were people inside, but they refused to come to the glass door until we gave it a few kicks.
Finally two salesmen with tire irons came to the door and we managed to do the sale. They opened the door just wide enough to push the equipment out, before closing and locking it again.
“Now take that stuff and get the hell out of here,” one of them shouted.
My attorney shook his fist at them. “We’ll be back,” he yelled. “One of these days I’ll throw a goddamn bomb into this place! I have your names! I’ll find out where you live and burn your houses down! You psychos…”
* * *
We had trouble, again, at the car rental agency. After signing all the papers, I got in the car and almost lost control of it while backing across the lot to the gas pump. The rental-man was obviously shocked.
“Say. uh. you fellows are going to be careful with this car, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Well, good god!” he said. “You just backed and you didn’t even slow down! You were lucky to miss the pump.”
“No damage done,” I said. “I always test a transmission that way. For stress factors.”
Meanwhile, my attorney was busy carrying rum and ice to the back seat of the convertible. The rental-man watched him nervously.
“Say,” he said. “Are you fellows drinking?”
“Not me,” I said.
“Just fill the goddamn tank,” my attorney said. “We’re in a hell of a hurry. We’re on our way to Las Vegas for a desert race.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” I said. “We’re responsible people.”
I watched him fill the tank with gas; then I started the engine.
“Another psycho,” said my attorney. “To hell with him. We have a lot of business to take care of, before we can get on the road.”
“You’re right,” I said. “And for Christ’s sake[39 - Христа ради] don’t smoke that pipe at stoplights. We’re exposed[40 - В кабриолете мы же у всех на виду.].” He nodded. “We need a big hookah. Keep it down there on the back seat, out of sight. If anybody sees us, they’ll think we’re using oxygen.”
We spent the rest of that night gathering materials and packing the car. Then we ate the mescaline and went swimming in the ocean. At dawn we had breakfast in a Malibu[41 - Малибу – престижный курорт на побережье Тихого океана в южной части штата Калифорния (прим. сост.)] coffee shop, then drove very carefully across town and right onto the freeway, heading East.
3
I was still slightly shocked by our hitchhiker’s words that he had “never ridden in a convertible before.” Here’s this poor guy, living in a world of convertibles that are passing him on the highways all the time, and he’s never even ridden in one. I felt like giving[42 - Мне захотелось отдать] the car to this poor bastard, just saying: “Here, the car’s yours.” Give him the keys and then use the credit card to fly on a jet to some place like Miami[43 - Майами – город на побережье Атлантического океана в штате Флорида, США] and rent another huge red convertible for a ride all the way to Key West[44 - Ки-Уэст – город на острове архипелага Флорида-Кис в штате Флорида, США]… and then exchange the car for a boat… Keep moving…
But this crazy idea passed quickly. I had plans for this car. I was looking forward to driving around Las Vegas in it. Maybe do a bit of serious racing – pull up to a big stoplight and start screaming at the traffic: “All right, you suckers[45 - уроды / отморозки (груб.)]! When this goddamn light turns green, I’m going to step on it[46 - я сейчас как надавлю на газ] and blow every one of you off the road!” Right. Challenge the bastards, with a bottle of rum in one hand, revving the engine, skidding, waiting for the light to change. How often does one get a chance like that?
But our trip was different. It was a declaration of everything right and true that is present in the national character. It was a salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country.
My attorney understood this concept, despite his race, but our hitchhiker didn’t. He said he understood, but I could see in his eyes that he didn’t. He was lying to me.
* * *
The car suddenly turned off the road and we stopped. My attorney was leaning over the wheel.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled. “We can’t stop here. This is a bat country!”
“My heart,” he groaned. “Where’s the medicine?”
“Oh,” I said. “The medicine, yes, it’s right here.” I reached into the bag for the amyls.
The kid seemed terrified.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “This man has a bad heart. But we have the cure for it. Yes, here they are.” I took four amyls out of the tin box and handed two of them to my attorney. He cracked one under his nose and fell back on the seat, staring straight up at the sun. I did the same thing.
“Turn up the goddamn music!” he screamed. “Volume! Bass! What’s wrong with us? Are we some goddamn old ladies?”
I turned both the radio and the tape recorder up.
“You bastard,” I said. “Watch your language! You’re talking to a Doctor of Journalism!”
He was laughing out of control. “What the heck[47 - какого чёрта / хрена (груб.)] are we doing out here on this desert?” he shouted. “Somebody call the police! We need help!”
“Don’t pay attention to this pig,” I said to the hitchhiker. “He can’t handle the medicine. Actually, we’re both Doctors of Journalism, and we’re on our way to Las Vegas to cover the main story of our generation.” And then I began laughing.
My attorney turned to the hitchhiker.
“The truth is,” he said, “we’re going to Vegas to kill a drug baron named Savage Henry. I’ve known him for years, but he ripped us off – and you know what that means, right?”
I wanted him to shut up, but we were both helpless with laughter. What the hell were we doing here, on this desert, when we both had bad hearts?
“Savage Henry is a dead man!” my attorney yelled at the kid in the back seat. “We’re going to cut his heart out!”
“And eat it!” I shouted. “That bastard won’t get away with this! What’s going on in this country when a sucker like that can rip off a Doctor of Journalism?”
Nobody answered.
My attorney was cracking another amyl when the kid climbed out of the back seat.
“Thanks for the ride,” he yelled. “Thanks a lot. I like you guys. Don’t worry about me.”
His feet hit the asphalt and he started running back. In the middle of the desert, not a tree in sight.
“Wait a minute,” I yelled. “Come back and get a beer.”
But probably he couldn’t hear me. The music was very loud, and he was moving away from us very fast.
* * *
“Good riddance[48 - Избавились, и слава богу],” said my attorney. “That boy was a real freak. He made me nervous. Did you see his eyes?” He was still laughing. “Jesus, this is good medicine!”
I opened the car door and went to the driver’s side.
“I’ll drive,” I said. “We have to get out of California before that kid finds a cop.”
“That’ll be hours,” said my attorney. “He’s a hundred miles from anywhere.”
“So are we,” I said. “Open the tequila. We must get to the Mint Hotel before the end of the press registration, or we’ll have to pay for our suite.”
He nodded. “But let’s forget that bullshit[49 - чушь / брехня (груб.)] about the American Dream,” he said. “I think it’s time to chew a blotter[50 - промокашка – кусочек бумаги, пропитанный ЛСД (жарг.)]. That cheap mescaline wore off a long time ago, and I don’t know if I can stand the smell of that ether any longer.”
“Speaking of which,” I said. “I think it’s time to get into the ether and the cocaine.”
“Forget ether,” he said. “Let’s save it for the rug in the suite. But here’s this. Your half of the blotter. Just chew it.”
I took the blotter and ate it. My attorney was now taking out the salt shaker with the cocaine. Opening it. Spilling it. Then screaming and grabbing at the air, as our white dust blew up and across the desert highway. A very expensive little twister rising up from the Great Red Shark.
“Oh, Jesus!” he cried. “Did you see what God just did to us?”
“God didn’t do that!” I shouted. “You did it. You pig!”
“You better be careful,” he said, and suddenly he was waving a black.357 Magnum[51 - Американский револьвер большой мощности] at me.
“You fool,” I said. “When we get to Las Vegas, what do you think the local drug barons will do when I show up with a Samoan narcotics agent?”
“They’ll kill us both,” he said. “Savage Henry knows who I am. I’m your attorney.” He started laughing wildly.
“You’re full of acid, you idiot. It’ll be a miracle if we get to the hotel and check in before you turn into a wild animal. Are you ready for that?”
He was laughing again, then he put his nose down the salt shaker, together with the thin green roll of a $20 bill, straight into what was left of the powder.
“How long do we have?” I asked.
“Maybe thirty more minutes,” he answered. “As your attorney I advise you to drive at top speed.”
* * *
Las Vegas was just ahead of us. I could see the hotel skyline through the blue desert haze: The Sahara, the Landmark, the Americana and the Thunderbird – grey rectangles in the distance, rising out of the cactus.
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notes
Notes
1
Барстоу – город в штате Калифорния, США
2
нас торкнуло / начало накрывать / колбасить (жарг.)
3
Лас-Вегас – город в штате Невада, США; один из крупнейших мировых центров развлечений и игорного бизнеса
4
чёртовы / треклятые
5
Ничего, забудь.
6
Так автор книги Хантер Томпсон называл свой кабриолет «Шевроле Импала» 1971 г. (прим. сост.)
7
Нет смысла упоминать
8
нас будет штырить / плющить по полной (жарг.)
9
Ничего, по дороге всё выветрится.
10
Самые популярные гонки внедорожников по пустыне штата Невада в окрестностях Лас-Вегаса, впервые организованные в 1968 г. (прим. сост.)
11
«Шевроле» (разг.)
12
так или иначе / в любом случае мне надо было провести репортаж с места событий
13
«Бадвайзер» (или «Будвайзер») – светлое пиво, популярное в США
14
зд. перечислены различные сильнодействующие вещества: травка, мескалин, кислота, кокаин, опиаты, барбитураты, стимуляторы, эфир, амилнитрит и пр. (прим. сост.)
15
Лос-Анджелес – город на юге штата Калифорния, США
16
Ритмичная песня группы The Rolling Stones (прим. сост.)
17
снова и снова
18
Чёрт возьми!
19
да его уже торкнуло (жарг.)
20
Сколько мы ещё продержимся?
21
и они нас выследят
22
Американская мечта – жизненные идеалы граждан США, «мечта о стране, в которой жизнь каждого человека будет лучше, богаче и полнее, и он сможет получить всё то, чего заслуживает»; впервые термин появился в трактате Дж. Адамса (1931 г.) (прим. сост.)
23
Знаменитый роскошный пятизвёздочный отель в Лос-Анджелесе (прим. сост.)
24
Самоанцы – коренное население островов Самоа в Полинезии (прим. сост.)
25
Чёрт побери!
26
португалец
27
консультация адвоката / юридическая помощь
28
Багги – небольшой лёгкий автомобиль высокой проходимости (прим. сост.)
29
В 1960–1980 гг. «Минт» был известным в Лас-Вегасе отелем и казино, спонсировавшим гонку «Минт 400». Крупный владелец недвижимости Делберт Ю. Уэбб приобрёл отель в 1961 г. (прим. сост.)
30
А иначе как ты сможешь вести репортаж с места событий?
31
Британский скоростной мотоцикл, производившийся с 1948 г. По праву считается одним из лучших в истории мотоспорта (прим. сост.)
32
А мы с ним справимся?
33
Этого будет маловато.
34
Беверли-Хиллз – город в округе Лос-Анджелес, США
35
Акапулько – курортный город в Мексике; зд. имеются в виду яркие цветастые рубашки (прим. сост.)
36
Гонзо-журналистика (англ. gonzo – чокнутый) – стиль субъективного репортажа от первого лица, то есть непосредственного участника событий. Основоположником стиля является сам Хантер Томпсон (прим. сост.)
37
Голливуд – район Лос-Анджелеса
38
полинезийский
39
Христа ради
40
В кабриолете мы же у всех на виду.
41
Малибу – престижный курорт на побережье Тихого океана в южной части штата Калифорния (прим. сост.)
42
Мне захотелось отдать
43
Майами – город на побережье Атлантического океана в штате Флорида, США
44
Ки-Уэст – город на острове архипелага Флорида-Кис в штате Флорида, США
45
уроды / отморозки (груб.)
46
я сейчас как надавлю на газ
47
какого чёрта / хрена (груб.)
48
Избавились, и слава богу
49
чушь / брехня (груб.)
50
промокашка – кусочек бумаги, пропитанный ЛСД (жарг.)
51
Американский револьвер большой мощности
Хантер Томпсон
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Литература 20 века
Язык: на английском языке
Стоимость: 129.00 ₽
Издательство: Антология
Дата публикации: 10.03.2025
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О книге: Доктор журналистики Рауль Дюк и его адвокат Доктор Гонзо отправляются в Лас-Вегас на поиски знаменитой американской мечты. Там они совершают самые немыслимые поступки, однако чудесным образом им всё сходит с рук. По словам самого автора, они открыли для себя способ «жить так, чтобы можно было веселиться, быть диким, пить виски, до утра не ложиться спать, гонять на автомобиле по пустым улицам, чтобы в лицо дул свежий ветер и чтобы не иметь в голове ничего, кроме желания кого-то любить и не быть арестованными».