Christopher Hitchens was a man of many words, most of them sharp enough to draw blood. He was also a man of many identities. When he sat down to write Hitch 22: A Memoir, he wasn’t just looking to recap a career spent at the bar and the front lines of various wars. He was trying to solve a puzzle. Specifically, the puzzle of himself. You’ve likely seen him on YouTube, glass of scotch in hand, dismantling an opponent with a terrifyingly precise subordinate clause. But the book is something else. It’s a messy, gorgeous, and frequently heartbreaking attempt to reconcile the "socialist" with the "neocon," and the Englishman with the sudden discovery of his Jewish heritage.
Reading it feels like sitting across from the man himself. It’s loud. It’s exhausting. Honestly, it’s a bit of a flex.
The Dual Nature of the Hitch 22: A Memoir Experience
The title isn't just a clever play on Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. It refers to the internal contradictions that defined Hitchens. He loved the military but hated authority. He championed the working class while sipping champagne with the elites. He was a staunch atheist who found his most profound connection to his mother through a religious identity she had kept hidden from him until shortly before her tragic suicide in an Athens hotel room.
That discovery is the emotional spine of the book.
Hitchens recounts finding out he was Jewish with a mix of shock and a strange sense of "of course." It changed how he viewed his own history. If you’re looking for a dry chronological list of jobs and awards, this isn't it. He jumps through time. He focuses on friendships—Martin Amis, Ian McEwan, Salman Rushdie—as if his friends were the mirrors he used to see his own face. The prose is dense. You’ll need a dictionary. You’ll also probably need a drink.
He writes about his mother, Yvonne, with a tenderness that feels almost voyeuristic. She wanted the "exotic" for him. She didn't want him to be a boring, middle-class Englishman. She got her wish. But the cost was a lifetime of her own repression and a final, lonely act of despair alongside a defrocked priest. Hitchens doesn't look away from the gore of it. He looks right at it.
Why the Politics Still Make People Angry
You can't talk about Hitch 22: A Memoir without talking about Iraq. By the time the book came out in 2010, Hitchens had become a pariah to many of his old leftist comrades. He didn't care. Or rather, he cared immensely but refused to apologize.
He frames his support for the Iraq War not as a pivot to the right, but as a continuation of his lifelong hatred of fascism. To Hitchens, Saddam Hussein was a "Ba'athist" monster who mirrored the European dictators of the 1930s. He saw the liberation of the Kurds as a moral imperative that overrode any concerns about American imperialism. It’s a tough read today. History hasn't been kind to the Iraq intervention, and Hitchens’s certainty can feel grating.
But that’s the point of the memoir. It’s an exercise in intellectual honesty, even when that honesty leads to a dark alley. He documents his falling out with Edward Said and Gore Vidal with a mix of regret and fierce intellectual combativeness. He wasn't looking for consensus. He was looking for the truth, or at least his version of it.
The Art of the Argument
One thing people get wrong about Hitchens is thinking he just liked to argue. He didn't. He lived for it. In the book, he describes the "Socratic" method not as a classroom tool but as a way of life. If you aren't questioning your own premises, you're dead.
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- The Public Intellectual: Hitchens was one of the last of a dying breed who could bridge the gap between high-brow literary criticism and muddy-boots journalism.
- The Foreign Correspondent: His dispatches from Argentina, Cyprus, and Sarajevo in the memoir aren't just travelogues. They are witnesses to the "crimes of the century."
- The Contrarian: He hated the word, but he earned it. From attacking Mother Teresa to Henry Kissinger, he took on the untouchables.
The Physicality of the Prose
Most memoirs are ghostwritten or polished into a bland sheen. Hitchens wrote his own stuff. You can tell because the rhythm is so specific. He uses words like "meretricious" and "internecine" like they’re common slang. It’s intimidating. But it’s also deeply human because he admits to his own vanities. He talks about his looks, his drinking, and his need to be the center of attention.
There’s a section where he talks about the "double life." The life of the mind versus the life of the flesh. He spent his days reading and his nights carousing. He claims he never had a hangover because he never stopped drinking long enough to get one. It’s a boast that feels tragic in hindsight, given that he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer during the book tour for this very memoir.
The irony is thick. A man who lived by his voice and his throat was silenced by a tumor in the very place that produced his art.
The Salman Rushdie Factor
A huge chunk of the book is dedicated to the "Fatwa" against Salman Rushdie. For Hitchens, this was the defining moment of his adult life. It was the moment he realized that the "theocratic" threat was real and global. He saw his friend forced into hiding for writing a novel, and it radicalized him in a way no political theory ever could.
He describes the dinner parties and the clandestine meetings with a sense of urgency. It wasn't just about a book; it was about the right to exist. This chapter is probably the most vital part of Hitch 22: A Memoir because it explains everything that came after—his turn against radical Islam, his "New Atheism," and his break with the anti-war left.
Is It Worth Reading Now?
Basically, yes. Even if you hate his politics. Especially if you hate his politics.
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We live in an era of "curated" identities. We present the best, most consistent versions of ourselves online. Hitchens does the opposite. He shows the seams. He shows the contradictions. He shows the "Hitch 22."
It's a masterclass in how to live a life of the mind. He didn't just have opinions; he had reasons. He didn't just travel; he immersed. He didn't just meet people; he engaged them. The book is a reminder that being an intellectual isn't about being right all the time. It's about being willing to be wrong in public.
What Most People Miss
People think the book is an ending. It was supposed to be a mid-career summation. Then the cancer happened. The paperback edition includes an afterword written after his diagnosis that is some of the most harrowing, beautiful writing about mortality ever put to paper. He discusses the "Land of Malady" with the same detached, curious eye he used for war zones.
He didn't find God on his deathbed. He found more questions.
He describes the feeling of being "penned in" by his own body. He talks about the loss of his voice. It’s a brutal ending to a life lived out loud. But it’s also a testament to his consistency. He didn't blink. He didn't fold.
Actionable Steps for Engaging with the Text
If you’re going to dive into this 400-plus page beast, don't just read it. Attack it. Here is how to actually get the most out of it:
- Keep a Notebook: Hitchens references hundreds of books, poems, and historical events. If you don't look them up, you’re missing half the conversation. Start with The Prelude by Wordsworth and work your way up to the history of the Kurds.
- Watch the Debates: Go to YouTube and find the C-SPAN clips of Hitchens from the same era he’s writing about. Seeing the physical man helps you hear the "voice" in the prose.
- Read the Critics: Don't take his word for it. Read the reviews by his enemies. Read the takedowns of his Iraq stance. Hitchens thrived on friction; the book is better when you provide some.
- Focus on the Friendships: The chapters on "Martin" (Amis) and "The Fenton" (James Fenton) are the heart of the book. Pay attention to how he describes loyalty. It’s his highest virtue.
The memoir isn't a map of a perfect life. It’s a map of a lived life. It’s messy, brilliant, arrogant, and deeply moving. Whether you view him as a hero of free speech or a warmonger, you cannot deny the sheer power of the writing.
Pick up a copy. Read the chapter on his mother first if you want the emotional hook. Read the chapter on the "Basics" if you want the political fire. Just don't expect to come away from it without feeling a little bit challenged. That’s exactly what the Hitch would have wanted.