And what pours out of the almost-mystical experience-following a group of misfits who grok over the long roads & ever-expanding horizons of the motherland-is something unforgettable, unattainable for any other writer than this one, the overly ambitious writer of "Bonfire of the Vanities," Mr. Once the novel is one-fourth over, it finally becomes accessible, cracking open like some golden egg. Is it all nonfiction? Really?! Or is it a horror film in disguise (no, no, no, just hear me out!) wherein body snatchers captivate the fragile minds of the youth, ensnaring them in major LSD consumption, "intersubjectivity," codependent thinking and a fantastical creation of genuine communal attachment? The hippies were a group that's just (if not more, at the time) self-aware & as conceited as all of them are. A mega doozy! A unique faux/dopey emblem of hippie Americana that blows angelic trumpets in your face with the celebration of a dadaesque topsy-turvy rover's lifestyle.
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