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Last Words

Few who spent time reading Hunter S Thompson would have been surprised at the blaze in which his life ended. Once quoted as saying he wouldn't live in a world where he wasn't able to commit suicide, the author of The Great Shark Hunt and Fear & Loathing on the Campaign Trail did just that on 20 February at the age of 67. His obituaries and elegies from famous friends like Ralph Steadman and Paul Theroux seemed dull and stale, mostly because in life every story by and about Thompson came drink- and drug-fuelled, screaming invective and waving a loaded shotgun above its head.

In its aftermath, his suicide has yielded some curious stories; but that Thompson's death could be free from attendant delectable detail will surprise none of his readers. The Aspen Daily News reported that Thompson shot himself while on the phone to his wife Anita, when his children and grandson were in the house. His son Juan, who found his father's body at the kitchen table, showed an admirable appreciation of the fitting gesture by taking the gun and letting off three commemorative shots from the porch of Thompson's estate.

Thompson's ashes are to be shot by cannon, dispersing them over his ranch and presumably in part over the lands of his long suffering neighbours. He left (on the kitchen table) a solitary sheet of paper with one word written on it – 'counsellor'. The scramble for meaning in this has exercised the press corps in the States, with reporters coming up with a gamut of meanings for Hunter's final message. In death, just as he did in life, Hunter S Thompson made the world just a little bit wilder, a little bit weirder. If all this generation can offer in recompense is Michael Moore and his preening protest, the wait to pass on the gonzo crown will be a long one.

Dude, Where's My Care?

Speaking of Michael Moore, he seems to have found a comfortable niche for himself this decade, preaching to the willing left and cynical conservatives. His profile has been remarkably high since Stupid White Men was first published and has been fuelled by his later books and incendiary documentaries like Farenheit 9/11. There has however been a period of retrenchment since Bush's re-election shattered his dream of being the man who changed the world. Vanity Fair magazine ran a very interesting profile on him this month, making the case for blaming Moore for Kerry's loss. Only six months ago he was being touted as the man who would depose Bush. Moore seems to have a padded ego and is unlikely to be beaten down for too long. Next up for him will be a typically objective and restrained look at the US Healthcare system.

Selling Stalin

Robert Harris, who wrote Selling Hitler about the sale of the fake Hitler Diaries to Stern magazine, will retread similar ground when his third novel is transferred to television this week. The BBC adaptation of Archangel which is to be shown this weekend, was appropriately filmed on sets in freezing temperatures of –30° in Riga and Moscow last year. It has been adapted by Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais who did a bang up job on last month's The Rotters' Club, so hopes are high. Daniel Craig (last seen in Ian McEwan's Enduring Love) stars in Archangel as Fluke Kelso, the drunk and divorced lecturer who follows a chance for greatness when he gets a lead on the whereabouts of Stalin's diaries. Previous adaptations of Harris' works (Fatherland and Enigma) have failed to live up to the source material and we will see how the latest fares when Archangel shows on BBC1 on 19/20 March.

Everyone Loves A Winner

The Awards never stop these days. Nominations for the Orange prize were released by judges (including author Joanne Harris and comedian Jo Brand) on Monday. Nicknamed the "lemon prize" by Auberon Waugh to emphasize a supposedly bitter, female-only stance, last year we were handed Andrea Levy's delightful Small Island.

The prize is awarded to the best book in a year by a female author and generally can be relied upon to present a quality choice. Some of the notable inclusions are current favourite We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver and Whitbread nominee Case Histories by Kate Atkinson.

The Impac prize, which will be awarded in Dublin, not only carries the biggest prize of them all – £100,000 – but also the most varied shortlist, having been culled from over 165 books nominated by nearly 50 countries. The most familiar names on the list will be Damien Calgut's Booker nominated The Good Doctor, Pulitzer Prize winning The Known World by Edward Jones and The Fortress of Solitude, Jonathan Lethem's much trumpeted love story to New York City. Both Prizes will be awarded in June.