Given Chiaramonte’s credentials, it is not surprising that
this book can be read as a philosophical and existential reflection on one
person’s inexorable attraction to impending disaster. The narrative is filled with
drugs and rock-and-roll that typified the times (although notably, very little
sex). It is also filled with fast cars and the vicarious horrors that were the
crime scenes, both physically in the LaBianca and Tate/Polanski homes, and in
the psyches of the drug-deranged family members. During the prison visit scenes,
in which the author speaks with the object of his desire through bullet-proof
glass, one gets the impression that he is actually looking himself in a
Narcissus-inspired mirror. Zeus, it is humorously said, advised Narcissus to “watch
yourself.” Chiaramonte is given the same advice throughout the book by various
and sundry actors that populate both his and Van Houten’s lives. As the reader vicariously
races through the hell of the Manson experience in the author’s “shotgun seat,”
often watching the blur of scenery through spread fingers of hands over eyes, one
realizes that among many other things, No Journey’s End is a cautionary tale that
retrieves the ancient trope, there but for the grace of God go I. Chiaramonte
does a masterful job reflecting on what might – but could never – have been, looking
for adventure, taking the world in a love embrace, and exploding into space.
"I don't want them to believe me, I just want them to think." - Marshall McLuhan
"It requires a very unusual mind to undertake the analysis of the obvious." - Alfred North Whitehead
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