Ecco, 229 pp., $25.95
We are more than halfway through Prime Green before Robert Stone finally explains the title of his lyrical, witty, evasive, protective, unrepentant, and exasperating memoir. The year is 1966. A twenty-nine-year-old Stone, awaiting publication of his first novel, A Hall of Mirrors, is only too happy to quit a hack job at a down-and-dirty New York tabloid and debark for Mexico. His old buddy Ken Kesey, the magus-prankster-shaman, is hiding out near Manzanillo from an arrest warrant in a California drug bust, and Esquire wants an article about it.
Review, 4190 words
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