Gaining notoriety during the '60s for his screenwriting, Terry Southern eventually became a well known and much respected writer in Hollywood, although his novels, as much as anything else that he's associated with are as unique as other works from the time period.
Being raised in Texas, Southern eventually left the States and made his way to France and was a part of the post World War II literary boom that occurred there. While Southern may not have been perceived as enormous a literary figure as William Burroughs or others that made a name for themselves during the '50s in Paris, his wit and ability to lampoon stereotypes made him a sought after commodity. Again, even with his film writing credits - which included Dr. Strangelove as well as Easy Rider - Southern wasn't ever granted the wide spread notoriety of his literary brethren.
Between 1958 and 1970, Southern would write the majority of what he would be remembered for. There was a book of short stories, but only four novels were resultant from this period. And while a few of them eventually saw the light of a movie screen back lighting them, Flash and Filigree, his first long form effort in '58, didn't get the same attention. The book wasn't as risqué as Candy or The Magic Christian, but it did include a number of tropes that Southern would return to repeatedly over the duration of his career.
The initial scene in Flash and Filigree is one of confusion and violence. Immediately, the reader is dumped into some bizarre scenario where analysts physically attack patients, only to leave calmly. And even if the situation is somehow partially explained later in the narrative, the beginning of this book announced that Southern would not bother himself with sensible and traditional unfolding of story lines.
As the narrative unfolds a Dr. Frederick Eichner is followed through a series of mysterious encounters including a car crash, the hiring of a private detective and ingesting copious amounts of controlled substances after having a few drinks. It's in this latter detail that Southern would find some way by which to ingratiate himself to the burgeoning counter culture springing up in California. Although, the fictitious doctor has no real intention of imbibing these substances, it becomes clear that, to a certain extent, he's pleased by the effects - even if the following morning Eichner's a bit under the weather.
In reading the prose of Southern, whether his characters are filmic or cartoonish, the language is more than manageable - and probably more than a few scholarly folks would add pedestrian at times. But some of the plain-speak that readers encounter is purposeful on the part of Southern. Its ease allows readers to move along at a quick clip and indulge the imagination with visuals of these bizarre scenes that are so well described. But there are still passages - not difficult mind you - that sport prose as flowery and artful as anything in western literature. That sentiment probably isn't shared by all too many readers, but it's true none the less.

