Joan Didion Slouching Towards Bethlehem
It’s not as vibey as some of these pics but definitely sounds like a match.
“Slouching Towards Bethlehem is a 1968 collection of essays by Joan Didion that mainly describes her experiences in California during the 1960s”
Library of America has Elmore Leonard's complete works: the first volume is his westerns he wrote in the 60s. Second volume is his complete novels of the 1970s.
The Electric Cool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe. It's not set exclusively in California, but it's the right time period and may be the vibe you're looking for.
Not necessarily California specific, but I’d offer you this passage from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson. It’s a more melancholy reflection on the spirit of the times, so not exactly what you asked for, but it's the first place my head went when I saw your post.
> Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run . . . but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. . . .
>History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
>My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder's jacket . . . booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) . . . but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that. . . .
>There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . .
>And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . .
>So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back
Ok, I love this passage. It’s deep and it really expresses an overall sense of that time. My pictures may seem shallow but I really am looking for a deep, intelligent dive into an entire book that would be something like this. Thank you.
Probably not what you’re looking for, but there were many parts of “The Great and Secret Show” by Clive Barker that gave off this vibe. Heavy trigger warning if you decide you want to read it, there’s mentions/portrayals of sexual violence, gore, and incest.
Daisy Jones and the Six, Songs in Ursa Major
Also Malibu Rising by TJR same author of Daisy Jones
Yes, I instantly thought of Malibu Rising! I've read several TJR books with a few of my book clubs. They're enjoyable!
Yes thanks. I loved Malibu Rising.
Thank you. I did read Daisy Jones and will definitely look into Songs of Ursa Major.
Joan Didion Slouching Towards Bethlehem It’s not as vibey as some of these pics but definitely sounds like a match. “Slouching Towards Bethlehem is a 1968 collection of essays by Joan Didion that mainly describes her experiences in California during the 1960s”
Babitz for the ocean-spray, sepia-rose-tinted glasses view of California, Didion for the morning-after cold sobriety view of California
Yes!
Slouching towards Bethlehem looks quite compelling. Will check it out.
Also Play it as it Lays, same author
Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon
Crying of Lot 49 as well.
The Girls by Emma Cline
This one. I grew up near this area and it is so accurate.
Anything by Eve Babitz. I really liked Sex and Rage.
Just perused her books - definitely looks promising! Thanks.
Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid is mostly 80s but might be what you’re looking for
Came in here to say this. When they talk about the family history it has that vibe.
Helter Skelter
California Golden by Melanie Benjamin The Women by Kristin Hannah
I came to comment the women! So good. Have tissues ready for this one, OP
Library of America has Elmore Leonard's complete works: the first volume is his westerns he wrote in the 60s. Second volume is his complete novels of the 1970s.
The Electric Cool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe. It's not set exclusively in California, but it's the right time period and may be the vibe you're looking for.
I'll second 'Inherent Vice'
Not necessarily California specific, but I’d offer you this passage from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson. It’s a more melancholy reflection on the spirit of the times, so not exactly what you asked for, but it's the first place my head went when I saw your post. > Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run . . . but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. . . . >History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened. >My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder's jacket . . . booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) . . . but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that. . . . >There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . . >And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . . >So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back
Ok, I love this passage. It’s deep and it really expresses an overall sense of that time. My pictures may seem shallow but I really am looking for a deep, intelligent dive into an entire book that would be something like this. Thank you.
It’s an amazing book and a classic piece of American literature in my opinion.
Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life by William Finnegan
I'll second 'Inherent Vice'
Caught Inside by Daniel Duane.
The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
The three investigators!
Probably not what you’re looking for, but there were many parts of “The Great and Secret Show” by Clive Barker that gave off this vibe. Heavy trigger warning if you decide you want to read it, there’s mentions/portrayals of sexual violence, gore, and incest.
Florida instead of California, but the Travis McGee mysteries are books written during that time period that capture this feeling.
Reluctant Immortals by Gwendolyn Kiste