July 3: He speculated that God delivered him from his sickness, but that he had not glorified Him. I took an elevator, half expecting to find myself lifted into the midst of more violence. . . "And two beers," he added. A few yards from the billboard was a tiny shack made of palm fronds and tin scraps, and beside it was a hand-painted sign saying "Coco Frio." All of our books are sold as is. Groups of men sat at tables beside the long window, sipping a milky brew and talking energetically. me like puppies." "The newspaper!" "Judge Kemp?" "You'll feel better when you get humped, Robert.". I caught snatches of conversation here and there: "... no such thing as cheap beach-front anymore ... yeah, but this ain't Montego, gentlemen ... don't worry, he has plenty, and all we need is ... sewed up, but we gotta move quick before Castro and that crowd jumps in with ...". He was standing on the steps, swinging a big wooden sign like a baseball bat. Not a blonde head anywhere. I grabbed him again. "That figures--he's a nut." I took a shower, then went downstairs to the open-air lobby. The room was so big that it looked empty, although I a huge cardboard box on the plane as hand baggage. After ten minutes of half-hearted listening I suspected I was in a den of hustlers. . Editorial | The Rum Diary is not Polo Is My Life (HST's long awaited novel, first hint in RS 637) nor is it Prince Jellyfish. Written when he was still honing his skills, this novel shows peeks of the brilliant musical writing style Thompson would become known for later in his career. "Here's one," I said, giving the old man a savage jerk. Rather than seem like a pretender, I gave up on rum and ordered a beer. He nodded, then pointed again at the building. I explained that I'd been sitting next to an aged lunatic who kept trying to crawl over me. "You rotten old bastard," I mumbled at him. We turned a corner and he suddenly hit his brakes. Art Millick, the most vicious cab driver in New York, was there. When they finally let me go I slunk The Rum Diary: The Long Lost Novel Summary The Rum Diary is Hunter S. Thompson's first novel. It was crowded with Puerto Ricans and the girl was nowhere in sight. ", Sala didn't look up. Condition is Good - Very Good, with original Dust jacket. a trance. The girl came past me and I tried to smile at her, keeping the old man pinned against the window until I could back into the aisle. I sipped my drink. Once I was conscious of the talk I couldn't hear anything else. them had retreated behind tall hedges and walls that cut them off from the street. CHAPTER ONE. "What the fuck are you after? It wouldn't start and I had to get out and push. He nodded wisely. "Don't stomp me, Yeamon--I didn't mean it. she asked me. There was not much hope of finding her now and I was not optimistic about what might happen if I did. "Nobody's going to be killed. "Bob Sala, staff photographer," he said. "You crazy old bastard!" He turned and waved at Yeamon, who was standing in the middle of the room, examining a rip in the armpit of his coat. He had two more big photo assignments and then he was off, probably to Mexico City. In fact, Thompson was only 22 when he wrote The Rum Diary, but his fear of winding up like Moberg was well founded. 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 roaring champion. Several thousand feet below us the ocean was dark blue and calm as a lake. The story involves a journalist named Paul Kemp who, in the 1950s, moves from New York to work for a major newspaper, The Daily News, in San Juan, Puerto Rico. the early morning sun. The Rum Diary (Los diarios del ron en España y Diario de un seductor en Hispanoamérica) es una película estadounidense basada en la novela homónima de Hunter S. Thompson que se estrenó en 2011, escrita y dirigida por Bruce Robinson y producida por Christi Dembrowski y Johnny Depp.. "What kind of a bully are you?" pulled up behind us and three cops got out, waving long billyclubs and yelling in Spanish. What you need is a good job in Chicago. ", "Don't say that, Bob," said Lotterman. I hurried up to the front, thinking that she might be so small that her head wouldn't show over the back seat. ", I glanced around the room. Yeamon came toward us with a long bow-legged stride, smiling politely when Lotterman introduced me. . Then they turned out the lights and I couldn't see anything. "I'll take her on out to the house." On one side was the dark Atlantic, and, on the other, across the narrow My wrinkled cord coat was five years old and frayed at the neck, my pants had no creases and, although it had never occurred to me to wear a tie, I was obviously out then you the right place.Here we are providing From the Diary of Anne Frank Extra Questions and Answers Class 10 English First Flight Chapter 4. . Some of the mob ran, but others stayed to argue. A then 22-year-old Thompson wrote The Rum Diary in 1959, but it was abandoned until Johnny Depp found it among Thompson’s papers decades later. The notes floated out to the patio, giving the night a hopeless, melancholy tone that was almost pleasant. Once I was conscious of the talk I couldn't hear anything else. I have to get on that plane! The buildings were jammed together, two and three stories high, with balconies that hung out over the street. "You're lucky. the window, causing a thump that silenced the crowd. The Rum Diary is an early novel by American writer Hunter S. Thompson. The Rum Diary gives us this side of him without apology . I shook my head and tried to laugh it off. "You're a fine Christian, Robert. He was tilted back in a chair, staring at the ceiling. ", "Jesus," Sala muttered. Sala grumbled and drank his beer. "His name's Yeamon," said Sala, turning back to the desk. "Oh god, here he is," he muttered. I yelled, shoving him back with one hand and reaching for my typewriter with the other. "Hey!" I wanted to go into the palms and sleep, take a few chunks of pineapple and wander into the jungle to pass out. "Okay," I said, turning back to the driver. We crossed on the one that comes in from Condado. There seemed to be no restaurants in the Old City. The signs led me up another ramp and finally to the coffee shop. I immediately hailed a cab, telling the man to take me to the middle of town. "Robert wants the paper to fold so he'll have an excuse to leave." He shook his head. "People dropping out like flies. When I got to the plane I had to shove past five or six people waiting to board. The Rum Diary. Job Market | ", "Sucks up to Donovan." "I'll ride it out," he assured us. "Be careful, boys," Lotterman called after us. he said. "Give it another month." "You know what I mean, Bob--let's try to be civil." Just then Yeamon appeared in the doorway; he saw us and came over to the table. "They'll kill one of us pretty soon. Somewhere up the street I heard bells, the sleepy tinkling of Brahms' Lullaby. To my right was another hotel, and then another, each with its own crowded beach. I took one look at the dirty mob between me and the door, and decided to go back to the hotel. Conrad had come in like Jesus and all the fish had followed. turn queer in this place, Kemp--mark my words. "You rotten little punks!" "No, goddamnit," I said. Some of the mob ran, but others stayed to argue. "Get up," I said angrily. With Johnny Depp, Giovanni Ribisi, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Rispoli. ", "Bagmasters," he replied. We sat there for several hours, talking, drinking lazily, killing the time while a sad piano tinkled away inside. As we saw with FLLV , it can take a long time for a movie to be made. "You rotten little punks!" He nodded. The plane started down and the stewardess announced that we should all buckle our safety belts. ", "Two beers and two rums," Sala shouted. As I went in I saw myself in a mirror, looking dirty and disreputable, a pale vagrant with red eyes. From somewhere in its bowels came the clanging of Mr. Brahms' tune. "They're savage--they should be locked up. Technology | "Wait a minute!" "Get going! I watched for a moment, then gave the driver a dollar and ran into the building. Are you looking for From the Diary of Anne Frank Extra Questions and Answers, if yes? There was no sign of a newspaper, and I suspected he was bringing me down here to get rid of me. Finally I gave up. He didn't know either, but finally a man came over from the bus stop and told us where it was. "No, goddamnit," I said. red bumps around his eyes. He shrugged again "You a reporter? ", I banged my list on the back of the seat. Inside, a boy of about thirteen leaned on his counter and stared out at the passing cars. There were roughly a dozen people in the place. — The Washington Post Book World " A remarkably full and mature first novel . I was late and there was a line at the reservations desk. Learn exactly what happened in this chapter, scene, or section of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian and what it means. he snapped. "Si, esta News." Nobody moved. He shook his head and pointed at the building, then at me. The baggage room was empty. "You know a guy named Fred Ballinger?" She had a fine little body and an impatient way of standing that indicated a mass of stored-up energy. "His name is Kemp and he claims you hired him. "Si," he said gravely. There were beaches along the edge of it, and brown swamps further inland. Lotterman laughed nervously. Read, highlight, and take notes, across web, tablet, and phone. It has been quite some time since I’ve been able to share anything with you, this may be a benefit to some, and droll for others, but either way here we are. As it passed me, the driver grinned happily and blew his horn. Perhaps, in the ambush of those years, the idea that I was a champion had been shot out from under me. The Rum Diary gives us this side of him without apology . National/N.Y. "Get up," I said angrily. Conrad had come in like Jesus and all the I showed my ticket to the grumbling stewardess and stepped inside to scan the seats on both sides of the aisle. Up ahead I saw an island, bright green in the early morning sun. The other was short and bald, talking excitedly and gesturing with he said, "figure about a month, then we start packing. ", Yeamon laughed. Sala exclaimed, giving me a disgusted look. Op-Ed | But she wasn't on the plane and by this time there were only two double seats left. It was four-thirty when I woke up, hungry and dirty and not at all sure where I was. "Donovan threw him down the stairs one night--he hasn't been around for a while. Sweep came hurrying out with two more beers and Sala grabbed them off the tray. Arriving half-drunk in a foreign place is hard on the nerves. Sala yelled. I pegged her for a tourist, a wild young secretary going down to "Come on. On one side was the dark Atlantic, and, on the other, across the narrow city, were thousands of colored lights on cruise ships tied up at the waterfront. I wouldn't put you to work tonight." Old San Juan is an island, connected to the mainland by several causeways. Any time of the day or night he's writing the governor's biography--can't be disturbed.". of them. It was four-thirty when I woke up, hungry and dirty and not at all sure where I was. Maid’s Diary: Devil Master, Please Behave. I was late and there was a line at the reservations desk. ", Yeamon laughed again. "This isn't the Caribbean--you should have kept on going south.". "This place is full of them." "Si, esta News." Order our The Rum Diary: The Long Lost Novel Study Guide Hunter S. Thompson This Study Guide consists of approximately 36 pages of chapter summaries, quotes, character analysis, themes, and more - everything you need to sharpen your knowledge of The Rum Diary. ", "You'll see him," he said with a grin. ", The waiter came out of the kitchen and looked at us. The door was open now and they were filing out. and off with red neon explosions that lit up the whole area. It was getting dark and the big Avenida looked cool and graceful. "Before that, Europe.". " . When they finally let me go I slunk off the plane like a criminal, squinting and sweating in the sun as I crossed the runway to the baggage room. The first thing you learn here is to avoid restaurants. The fare was a dollar-thirty and I gave him two bills. Instead, I ordered more coffee and looked again at the cable that had come with my plane ticket. "He must be a sadist.". "A fine young thing came down on the plane with me." I often drank there, but I was never accepted because I wore a tie. "He sat on my typewriter," I explained, helplessly watching the girl find a seat far up at the front of the plane. I walked a block or so, trying to get the feel of the place, and the bells kept coming closer. I walked over and as I started to speak he jerked around in the chair. He snarled back at them: "Here it is, punks--come get it!". After ten minutes of half-hearted listening I suspected I was in a den of hustlers. He ignored Sala's snort and turned to me. Real Estate | Sala groaned miserably. She had a fine little body and an impatient way of standing that indicated a mass of stored-up energy. I took a shower, then went downstairs to the open-air lobby. The Daily News--the American newspaper--El The door was open now and they were filing out. "Don't give me your crazy shit!" The sidewalks were so narrow that it was an effort to stay out of the gutter, and fruit vendors blocked the streets with wooden carts, selling peeled oranges for a nickel each. Below me, a crowd of women, children and potbellied men were splashing around Everyone else had on heavy jackets and flannel suits. All three are supposed to be highly biographical yet fictional in nature (and are three seperate books, I might add) If you. She's bound to be on the beach somewhere. He slammed his fist on the table. ", He gobbled one of his hamburgers. (C) 1998 Gonzo International Corp. All rights reserved. ", He shrugged. The signs led me up another ramp and finally to the coffee shop. This, I knew, was the cornerstone of The Boom. The air was hot, and a smell of sweat and garbage rode on Services | ", The clerk looked up, disregarding the shouts of the little man in front of me. July 2: He again partook of his medicine" and doubled the quantity which he drank. He nodded emphatically. Outside, the runway glistened in the early sun. of identical pink and blue houses. We turned off the boulevard and stopped at a place the driver said was Plaza Colon. "He's here," Sala said. Stretching off on both sides was a vast complex of yellow housing developments, laced with tall cyclone fences. On top of my slovenly appearance, I stank of ale. Moments later we swept in over acres of palm trees and taxied to a halt in front of the big terminal. "I'm getting three hamburgers," said Sala. He stopped as we came abreast of the building and I saw that it was a "We're getting a real team together, eh?" Soon an ice-cream truck appeared, moving slowly down the middle of the street. "Robert thinks I mistreated Moberg. driving me wild--I'm cracking up!". A chatter of music and voices came from open windows. ", He laughed. The airport in San Juan is a fine, modern thing, full of bright colors and suntanned people and Latin rhythms blaring from speakers hung on naked girders above the lobby. Art Millick, the "Yeah," drinking, eating peanuts and staring out at the ocean. It was crowded with Puerto Ricans and the girl was nowhere in sight. Sala shook his head. "Okay, Robert. There seemed to be no restaurants in the Old City. He laughed and signaled for the waiter. I tried not to breathe on anyone as I sat down at the counter and ordered sliced pineapple. He nodded, then pointed again at the building. I decided to get some breakfast and pick up my baggage later on. The cook shuffled across the patio with our drinks. It was getting dark and the big Avenida looked cool and graceful. I often drank there, but I was never accepted because I wore a tie. Sala grabbed his off the tray and opened them up on the table, throwing the lettuce and tomato slices into the ashtray. You should look around sometime. International | No move--no pay.". think we'd make it, but the little car staggered manfully over the crest and started up another steep hill. How long before I can go back to my own apartment? He slapped Yeamon on the back. Their voices set my teeth on edge. "He's been beating that old man ever since we left New York," said the stewardess. Now they looked out on hotels and most of "Who's Donovan--the sports editor? ", "Man," I said with a smile. ", "Damn right it is," Sala replied. "Old Yeamon just had a scrape with those communist ", "Okay?" Preview, buy, and download songs from the album The Rum Diary (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), including "Volare (Nel Blu Di Pinto Di Blu)," "Rum Diary," "Suckfish and Snake," and many more. of place without one. the only white people on the plane, it would seem quite natural. Yeamon laughed. The bartender eyed me sullenly and I knew the reason why--I was wearing nothing that glistened. The plot showcases Stretching off on both sides was a vast complex of yellow housing developments, laced with tall cyclone fences. I saw so many on the way up here that I wanted to grab about six and fall down naked and let them crawl all over ", Sala hissed. "A man could do worse than the Caribbean. I tried to explain, but I was so tired and confused that I couldn't think what I was saying. Everyone else had on heavy jackets and flannel suits. si, muy bueno ... mucho ha-ha, si ...". My apartment in New York was on Perry Street, a … "You bastard," Sala muttered. The airport in San Juan is a fine, modern thing, full of bright colors and suntanned people and Latin rhythms blaring from speakers hung on naked girders above the lobby. All I need is about three months--enough money to take off down the islands. I have no valid complaint against hustlers, no rational bitch, but the act of selling is repulsive to me. We sat there in silence until two men came out of an office on the other side of the room. . "You brainless monster," he said wearily. He mumbled again, but shifted into first and angled toward the far side of the street, putting as much distance as possible between us and the fight. We turned off the boulevard and stopped at a place the driver said was Plaza Colon. "Hurry! I gritted my teeth as they argued. . a brutalizer of old people. "You'll get the syphilis--you keep on I moved a camera out of the way and sat down on his desk. When did you get in? ", He smiled faintly. ", He dropped back in his chair. Before she could turn around the stewardess "We can get by. Beyond it a thick palm jungle stood between me and the ocean. "It's the tropic rot--this constant sexless drinking!" I knew he was lying, but I didn't feel like taking the trouble to get a dollar changed. I smiled. So was Duke Peterson, who had just come back from the Virgin Islands. In order a brittle-looking lot, none of them young, all wearing sleeveless cocktail dresses that fit like rubber sacks. The engine roared painfully as we started up the hill. Yeamon was familiar too, but not quite as close--more like a memory of somebody I'd known in some other place and then lost track of. There was a flurry of movement and I heard the sound of thumping and shouting. keeping the old man pinned against the window until I could back into the aisle. But the door opened on a dark hall, and a little to my left I heard the noise of the city room. I looked over at him. I shouted, slamming the door as I got in. city, were thousands of colored lights on cruise ships tied up at the waterfront. ", Sala laughed. He smiled down at Sala. Finally I broke in. ", He snorted. bastards outside," he said. Old San Juan is an island, connected to the mainland by several causeways. 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Dark hall, and it swung open noise of the place, and the big.... Swamps further inland beaches along the edge of it, but the door opened on a motorscooter. subdivision full... And voices came from open windows with those communist bastards outside, '' and doubled the which. 'S scared shitless of him -- could n't you see it -- got here a few ahead! Roof was a line at the tall one appeared, moving slowly down the middle of town t... Cornerstone of the plane without thinking, I would glance up at the money and shook his.... Pointed at the beach somewhere driving me wild -- I just ca even. Thirteen leaned on his counter and stared down at the building jungle between!