Richard Brautigan developed a truly original style of prose that often seemed to point towards the thin line between the conscious and the subconscious mind ; this aspect of his work , while making it at times relatively surreal , also seems to give it , rather paradoxically , an added layer of 'realism' . In spite of this I have never seen Brautigan described as 'the most important American author' of even the 'psychedelic era' or the Sixties, and I'm beginning to wonder why. Perhaps his writing just wasn't tacky enough to be widely championed .
This collection of largely wistful anecdotes give the reader a good taste of what arguably made Brautigan great ; reading it left me with a strange subsequent feeling that I had actually visited some of these places with him .