I first became aware of Tom Wolfe, who died Monday at 88, when an English teacher at my Jesuit high school in Maine turned me on to (classical reference in that phrase) his 1975 exercise in New Journalism, “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test.”
Wow. I mean WOW! South Portland, Maine, had never encountered anything like it. Shakespeare, yes. Dante, but of course. Even a little Virgil and Descartes along the way. But this hypersonic chronicle about the novelist Ken Kesey (“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”) and his Merry Pranksters motoring around California in a school bus decked out in Day-Glo psychedelic paint riding the ineffable wave of 1960s excess? That was something entirely new.
You’ll know one of Kesey’s slogans, which entered the language thanks to Wolfe: “You’re either on the bus or you’re off the bus.” I was decidedly on the Tom Wolfe bus.
Next up was “The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby,” a collection of essays published a decade before “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test.” Who knew that anyone could write with such serve, with SO MANY CAPITAL LETTERS and EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!? When you’re 16 and have been battened on “The Scarlet Letter” and Kipling’s “If,” it is both a revelation and an emancipation.