Hitchens was asked to write a series of letters advising a young student how to live a radical or "contrarian" life. Taking his role as mentor very seriously, he adopts a didactic and often patronising tone, beginning with a rather boastful account of how his contrary views helped to change public opinion on issues as diverse as the war in Bosnia; the (dis)honesty of Bill Clinton; and the saintliness - or otherwise - of Mother Teresa.
There is plenty more boasting and name-dropping in this book, and it can be very tiresome. Hitchens is fond of quoting liberally from his heroes, then explaining his own personal connection with them. But in among the roll-call of famous dissidents, he offers some original observations on the nature of radicalism. He advises, for example, that although many of the dissidents he most admires are on the Left, true radicals are "self-appointed", not conforming to any absolutist belief system, nor afraid to be dubbed "elitist".
While his recent heroes are anti-Soviet dissidents, the "eighty-niners" who brought down so many authoritarian governments just over a decade ago, Hitchens describes himself as belonging to an earlier generation; a "soixante-huitard", with views shaped by 1960s civil rights campaigns and opposition to the Vietnam war. His opinions honed in an atmosphere of confrontation, he attacks the notion of consensus as a good in itself, arguing that only an open conflict of ideas and principles can produce clarity. This makes for refreshing reading; consensus is too often regarded as a worthy goal, yet no healthy society lacks dissent.
Equally refreshing are Hitchens's uncompromising views on religion. He defines himself as an "antitheist", who finds the arrogance and illogic of all religions disturbing. Much of his writing, as here, is deadly serious, but he engages in a wry humour at times, advising that radicals must retain a sense of irony even in adversity. Bitter jokes can emerge from the most repressive regimes, because "the sharp aside and the witty nuance are the consolation of the losers".
Humour aside, Hitchens is passionately angry about the betrayal of multiethnic secular Bosnia by the West, so much so that he travelled to Sarajevo during that time to offer support. One feels an immense sense of grief and shame on reading of his experience; how could we have let this happen, so close in time and place? Why were we not all there to defend Bosnia? This is Hitchens at his most persuasive, reminding us that many did go to Sarajevo; that it was a meeting-place for dissidents of all generations.
Looking ahead, he sees the next battle as "the fight to extend the concept of universal human rights, and to match the 'globalisation' of production by the globalisation of a common standard for justice and ethics." This fight has already begun. We eighty-niners, who became politically active when students all over Europe were tearing down establishment structures, have been joined by a new generation seeking to tear down multinational complacencies in Seattle, Prague and Genoa. Exciting times lie ahead.
But perhaps the biggest problem with Hitchens' Letters is that, despite his advice for future campaigns, he conveys little sense of excitement or of willingness to engage in struggle. His tone is complacent, morally smug; the rest of the world may be wrong, but he is always right.
Ultimately, this begs the question: is it worth being contrary for its own sake? Is it not better to hold one set of principles, and try to persuade others of their merit, than to live constantly "at a slight acute angle to society"?
Being right all the time is simply not enough.
Ivana Bacik was a student activist in 1989. She is now a barrister and Reid Professor of Criminal Law and Criminology at Trinity College Dublin