Bear: The Life and Times of Augustus Owsley Stanley III Hardcover – November 15, 2016

In 1985, when I became initiated into my new life as a latter generation Deadhead—it’s called “getting on the bus,” referencing a lyric from the Dead’s psychedelic classic “That’s It for The Other One”—I had certainly heard of Augustus Owsley Stanley III. As an aficionado of the 1960s social revolution I had missed by virtue of being born in the midst of it, my knowledge of important figures of the day included the most famous purveyor of LSD, the “high octane rocket fuel” that helped usher in what many felt was the beginning of a new age.Even back in 1967's legendary Summer of Love, Owsley, a street chemist nicknamed “Bear,” had already acquired a reputation for brilliance and mystery. Credited with manufacturing millions of doses of a drug capable of transforming an individual’s worldview as well as that of society itself, Owsley cut a figure of enigmatic renown, in particular because so little seemed known about the man behind the legend. The new biography Bear by journalist and author Robert Greenfield (Dark Star: An Oral History of Jerry Garcia, Timothy Leary: A Biography) seeks to fill in many of those missing details.From an interesting and somewhat unsettled childhood as grandson of a progressive (for the time) U. S. Senator from Kentucky, and son of a troubled father forever laboring in the shadow of his more accomplished patriarch, Owsley would become far more notable, and notorious, than either could have dreamed. An autodidact with a brilliant, computer-like mind—an epigraph from Garcia that opens the book reads “There’s nothing wrong with Bear that the loss of a few billion brain cells wouldn’t cure”—Owsley acquired a deserved, if overbearing, reputation for being the smartest person in any given room.But Bear knew a great deal about more than chemistry: his contributions to live audio reinforcement would make the Grateful Dead famous not only for their lengthy musical improvisations, but for the clarity and power of their sound system. In an era when Beatles performances came piped through baseball stadium PA horns, Bear’s commitment to devising new and elaborate methods of amplifying the output of onstage instruments would alter the way music lovers enjoy live rock concerts.An inveterate womanizer and irascible, intractable egoist, in time Bear would not only wear out his welcome with the band for whom he provided early financial as well as lysergic support, but beginning in 1970 also served a two-year prison stretch. During this incarceration, he learned the fine arts of metallurgy and jewelry making, which would sustain him financially throughout the rest of his life in place of his former chemical endeavors. (Cultivating cannabis would also serve as a vocation, though Bear himself expressed disinterest about using this particular plant for its psychoactive properties.)Ever the iconoclast, after suffering a series of recurring dreams about environmental disaster in the Northern hemisphere of the Earth, in the early 1980s Bear attempted to persuade the members of the extended Dead family to immigrate to Australia. While finding no takers, Owsley himself made the move, living out the rest of his years in converted shipping containers in a barren and secluded part of that vast continent. While he returned to America to attend Dead shows (I met and spoke with him at a couple), Australia would become his final home.As health problems began to plague him, the once indomitable Bear began to show signs of frailty and fragility, particularly after a bout with radiation to treat an instance of cancer in his neck, a disease he attributed to breathing second-hand cigarette smoke during his years working in rock & roll sound reinforcement. This illness on top of open heart surgery a few years earlier left this iconic counterculture figure a skeletal version of his former hearty self, though to the end he hosted his own version of Down Under acid tests, as well as lived to see, and criticize, the release of over a dozen of his audio recordings.While Greenfield includes a thorough bibliography, end notes, and discography, for such a towering, world-famous figure—his name, which became synonymous with LSD itself, enjoys a listing in various dictionaries—this biography ends up feeling somewhat thin and anecdotal. Intended more, perhaps, for the general public than scholars of the Grateful Dead experience for whom much of this material will read as duly familiar, Bear still provides a solid, humanizing overview of a cultural enigma who just may have changed the world more than few other twentieth-century figures outside of politics or medicine. Augustus Owsley Stanley may have finally been brought to a prosaic end in a roadside traffic accident, but his spirit, intellect, and contributions to sound reinforcement will most assuredly live on.

The book seems pretty accurate. I was very young, and I encountered Owsley three times but I knew rather well, several of those involved in Greenfield's book. Perry Lederman resided in a studio apartment of my childhood home during the summer of 1967. In retrospect, I'm am all but certain that Lederman's admitting to outing Owsley during an LSD transaction, as Greenfield describes, was simply cover for his turning state's evidence on Stanley, under pressure from a related drug arrest.The caption below the picture of Owsley with Ravi Shankar at Monterey is wrong. The tabla player listed incorrectly, is Alla Rakha, Zakir Hussein's father. Though Owsley was briefly involved with Ali Akbar Khan, the sarod master, it was not at Monterey. He came around a Scripps funded American Society for Eastern Arts music school at which Khan was teaching. Lederman no doubt made the introduction, I was in the room when they met. I never witnessed Owsley doing anything directly, but I recall his offering of acid being discussed in the aftermath. He talked his way into doing sound reinforcement for an Ali Akbar Khan, Berkeley Community Theater show. It was about a 2500 seated show and the audience got pissed off because he ran it way too loud and there was feedback.Now reading Greenfield's book, 50 years later, it is difficult to believe that my siblings and I emerged from that chaos without more consequences.

A must read for anybody interested in the strange and adventourous life of Stanley "The Bear" Owsley and the Gratefull Dead band.The bear, among many things, was also a true pioneer of the keto/carnivore/ zero carb way of eating.Well written and detailed, this bio by Robert Greenfield is a proper tale of the life of an extraordinary man.

This was an interesting read, especially for one who lived through those years, was a Deadhead, and yes, indulged in the product that Owsley was so famous for producing.However, there was one glaring error in fact that makes me question other facts contained within, but of which I am not as familiar. Mr. Greenfield states at the beginning of Chapter 13 " . . . to perform free at shows he [Ron Rakow] began putting on at the Carousel Ballroom at 1805 Geary Boulevard in San Francisco."The Carousel Ballroom -- which became the venue called "Fillmore West" -- was at 10 South Van Ness Avenue. The Fillmore Auditorium is at 1805 Geary Boulevard. It was not called The Fillmore after Bill Graham opened Fillmore West, was called the Elite Club for a while, and was closed after damage caused by the Loma Prieta earthquake. The Fillmore reopened on April 27, 1994 and is still quite active. In fact, I was at the Fillmore Auditorium this past weekend tour managing a band that played there.Upon reading this error in "Bear," it was difficult to read the remainder of the book without wondering if what I was reading had a basis in fact. This, obviously, colors my opinion of the book and makes it difficult to recommend to others.Information about The Fillmore, and the Carousel Ballroom/Fillmore West, is not hard to find. Whoever did fact-checking for this book did not do a very good job. Maybe they were tripping.

Really wanted to like this book but I am afraid it really doesn't do the subject justice failing to create the narritive that essential to a good biography. This needs to be much more than just a list of "facts" and dates. The writer pretty much assumes that the book is going to read by old heads who know the background. It is mainly recycled interviews and bits from other books, to be fair he does credit his sources in good US journalistic fashion. But there are so many niggles e.g. he says the Prankesters were not entirely truthful with Tom Wolfe (surely not ?) but then gives no examples and happily uses Electric Cool Aid as a source. Two thirds of the way through book he decides we need to be told that Jerry Garcia was the lead guitarist of the Grateful Dead (really ?). And let's not discuss Mr Greenfield's prose, for a professional writer he struggles to write a decent sentence (so do I but I am not being paid to write this).All in all wait for 2nd hand one when it comes out in paperback.

Hi, really enjoyed this book, took me back to the days of flower power, be-ins, love-ins, great music, freedom, friends with benefits, wholefood, country living, growing your own food, lovely clothes, also Swinging London, dolly birds, Hyde Park concerts, bells & caftans, also the road to India, (6 weeks on a bus), Christmas on Goa beaches, full moon parties, and of course all the wonderful substances that gave it sparkle, not least Owsley`s massive contribution. Can still flash 45 years later it was that strong. Thanks for the memories xxx

What an excellent volume this is. Owsley was such a major figure on the San Francisco scene it is wonderful to have a book about him at last. Robert Greenfield has done a really good job to pull together what information we have about this mysterious character. A very welcome addition to my library of books on the San Francisco scene.

Sex drugs and rock n roll.

Great insite