In Great Jones Street, the themes of drugs and rock music boldly stride to the forefront, enticing readers to delve into a possible roman a clef. Some may embark on a quest to uncover the true essence of rock legend Bucky Wunderlick, pondering if he mirrors icons like Jagger, Dylan, or Jim Morrison. However, such speculation fades into insignificance compared to the novel's deeper inquiry. At its heart lies an exploration of the tangled web between a public persona and the enigmatic "self." There is no preordained solution here, especially not the traditional humanistic one that deems the self as genuine and the persona as a mere facade.

Here, artificiality thrives unabashedly, and indeed, the swirling whirlpool of rumors and publicity holds as much substance as the private self. Bucky Wunderlick is constantly bombarded with tales of his supposed adventures and locales, yet both he and the reader grasp the truth — he has remained in the shadowy confines of Great Jones Street, engaging in little beyond witnessing others' attempts to steer him. In a world where cause and effect govern the apparent reality, it becomes crystal clear that the self is both fragile and dispensable. Meanwhile, the public persona—spawned from the chaotic mix of rumor, hunger for fame, and paranoia—emerges not only as a tangible entity but one with tangible ramifications.

This passage delves into the compelling theme of how self-interest can twist, fragment, and undermine philosophical ideals and moral values. Yet, it also starkly illustrates the futility of seeking refuge in a "neutral" position to avoid such devastation. Bucky's quest to retreat from the spotlight and embrace a life of privacy is swiftly satirized by the members of the Happy Valley Farm Commune, transforming his noble intent into something perilously corrosive. Though they honor his desire for personal sanctuary amidst a consumer-driven, media-centric world, they themselves have shifted from their rural roots to become urban dwellers. Once cohesive, they are now fractured; once pacifists, they have turned toward aggression. True to DeLillo's masterful play with names and titles, this group embodies the very antithesis of what their name suggests. Whether under the banner of enterprise, counterculture, crime, or sheer avarice, all human endeavors become ensnared in a web of irony and self-conflict.