Like the bad seed of Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas" meets "A Clockwork Orange". Although Thompson's detailed accounts of his various drug trips tended to be overly-long, they were at least amusing to laugh-out-loud funny; and Clockwork was super-creative and interesting about its invented language. This unintelligible mess - which the book jacket described as a "meaningful search for true values" (?!) - was penned while the author was a full-blown heroin addict, complete with every junkie drug-use term every invented, and endless (endless!) descriptions of the grinding squalor and misery that go with being said junkie.
Burroughs claims not to remember writing any of it, which is probably a smart move because I know if I were held responsible for having authored this, I would probably do the same.
This book is very good if you read it like poetry i.e. random pages at a time. It doesn't make sense since it is not supposed to. I highly reccomend reading the history about it before hand or else it just seems like a long trip. I found out later that the first chapter is the ending from Junky, and that is going off drugs snad hallucinates, I just thought that he has Hallucenating that whole time. Fun though.
This was not a book I could get into. It was one of those books that put me in a strange and foreign place - the world of drug addiction. Though not the first book I have opened that covered this theme, I found the way the content was covered to be quite depressing - disappointing, as I had read reviews lauding this particular book.