Absinthe
The Green Fairy (The Bus 6.30)
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ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED (2.10) 3 NOVEMBER 2022
The Stop
Absinthe is a high-alcohol,1 yellowish-green distilled spirit which turns to a cloudy white when mixed with water. It is made from a combination of plants and aromatics, including the flowers and leaves of wormwood (Artemisia absinthum) which provides its distinctly dry, bitter taste. Other ingredients include aniseed, hyssop, Angelica root, liquorice, fennel and wild marjoram which have been bruised and soaked in alcohol before distillation.2
Though similar concoctions appeared in ancient Greece and Rome as both an insect repellent and antiseptic, the modern version was invented in Switzerland not long after the end of the French Revolution by Pierre Ordinaire - a ‘well-known French physician.’ Adapting an ancient recipe into what he intended as a medical tonic for his patients, the spirit became quickly popular for non-medical reasons as people began to acquire a taste for it. In 1797, Henry-Louis Pernod became the first commercial producer of the beverage and it quickly became fashionable as an aperitif. Not a little part of its appeal was the ritual surrounding its preparation: a measure would be poured into a glass before being diluted with ice-cold water poured through a sugar cube, turning the beverage milky pale.
Initially, absinthe was a middle- and upper-class indulgence, but over time it developed an ‘exotic appeal’ with its supposedly hallucinogenic effects ‘based in part on literary descriptions from the likes of Baudelaire and Rimbaud.’3 Soon, more and more drinkers were enjoying ‘l’heure verte, the “green hour” of early evening when the unique smell of absinthe wafted through the air.’ With its high proof, absinthe delivered more power for the cost and when diluted with water it would stretch even further. While only a ‘minority of artists and poets evangelised loudly in favour of the Green Fairy,’ absinthe quickly became ‘synonymous with mad genius’ and began to be blamed for a number of society’s moral failings. Dubious ‘scientific’ experiments purportedly proved that ‘absinthistes’ suffered from ‘seizures, violent fits, and bouts of amnesia,’ while the drink was accused of contributing to spontaneous abortions and male sterilisation - with one leading scientist ‘declaring absinthe the root of all social evil.’4
In August 1905 after a day of heavy drinking that had begun with two shots of absinthe, Jean Lanfray killed his pregnant wife and his four- and two-year-old daughters in the Swiss village of Commugny. Following this highly-publicised murder, the growing anti-absinthe movement quickly pointed to the beverage as the source of his crime.5 Riding a swell of anti-absinthe fervour, the local mayor declared absinthe the ‘principal cause of a series of bloody crimes in our country’ and a petition to outlaw it reached 82,000 signatures in a few days. Numerous local bans of the drink began to be passed, with Switzerland declaring absinthe illegal in 1910 and the Netherlands quickly following. Though never illegal in England, Spain or Czechoslovakia, absinthe was banned across the majority of Europe and outlawed in the United States in 1912.6 Despite long being the centre of the absinthe subculture, France banned the drink in 1915.
However, Swiss bootleggers continued to produce absinthe, Spain never outlawed it and as a result a few distilleries continued to make it throughout the 20th century. Over time – ‘noting the lack of modern ‘absinthe murders’ – European bans on absinthe were reconsidered in the light of modern understandings of the science behind the spirit and its central ingredient - wormwood. In the late 1990s, laws were repealed and small amounts of wormwood-produced thujone7 were allowed back into the drink. Legal once more, the Green Fairy was released back into society.
The Detour
Today’s Detour is to a video episode (18:29) of NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert by the Greek composer/performer Theodore. It’s an outstanding performance from five musicians who exhibit - to quote the NPR release - ‘finesse and attention to detail … the sort of spare elegance you can hear in Sigur Rós or Pink Floyd.’ Well, they had me at Pink Floyd (though I don’t mind a bit of Sigur Rós when the urge for a little Icelandic music raises its occasional head) - but this is something else entirely. Give it a watch.
The Recommendation
Today’s recommendation is Proof: The Science of Booze, by Adam Rogers (2014).8 It’s a great, accessible read which dissects the science, history, taste and mystery surrounding humans and their love of alcohol.
From the back: Humans have been perfecting the science of alcohol production for ten thousand years, but modern scientists are only just beginning to distill the complex reactions behind the perfect buzz. In a spirited tour across continents and cultures, Adam Rogers puts our alcoholic history under the microscope, from our ancestors’ accidental discovery of fermented drinks to the cutting-edge laboratory research that proves why - or even if - people actually like the stuff.
From fermentation to distillation to ageing, Proof offers a unique glimpse inside the barrels, stills, tanks, and casks that produce iconic drinks. Rogers ventures from the whisky-making mecca of the Scottish Highlands to the most sophisticated gene-sequencing labs in the world - and to more than one bar - introducing us to the motley characters and evolving science behind the latest developments in boozy technology. He uncovers alcohol’s deepest mysteries, chasing the physics, molecular biology, organic chemistry, and even metallurgy that power alcohol production, and the subtle mixture of psychology and neurobiology that fuels our taste for these products.
With intoxicating enthusiasm, Rogers reveals alcohol as a miracle of science. If you’ve ever wondered exactly how your drink of choice arrived in your glass, or exactly what will happen to you once you empty it, Proof makes for an unparalleled drinking companion.
The Sounds
Today’s playlist is compilation of five tracks I’ve recently added to my playlist. Nothing to do with today’s Stop - just good music: ‘Where Did We Go Wrong’ (Ben Harper, 2022), ‘Timothy’ (Tennis, 2014), ‘The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness’ (The National, 2017), ‘Vitamin Sunday’ (Mandrake Handshake, 2022) and ‘Oblivion’ (Victoria Bigelow, 2022). Enjoy!
The Thought
Today’s Thought is from the Greek Stoic philosopher Epictetus:9
‘You become what you give your attention to.’
If you have a thought on this Thought - or any part of today’s issue - please leave a comment below:
And that’s the end of this Stop - I hope you enjoyed the diversion!
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Until the next stop …
The average is around 68% by volume.
My first - and probably only - drink of absinthe was in 1994. A couple who had toured Europe the previous summer brought back two bottles buried in the bottom of their suitcases and generously shared their (at the time) illicit beverage. Though the thrill of trying something new and forbidden was satisfied and it was an almost unreal shade of green, I found the taste about one step too close to medicinal for my liking. Sources for today’s Stop include: Absinthe (Britannica), St Clair, Kassia. The Secret Lives of Colour. London: John Murray, 2016, and Absinthe (sciencehistory.org)
For more about these two French poets, see: Baudelaire (Britannica) and Rimbaud (Britannica)
This was Valentin Mangan - chief physician of France’s main mental asylum and as such the national authority on mental illness. Attempting to prove ‘absinthism’ was different from alcoholism, in an 1869 experiment he put one guinea pig in a glass case with a saucer of pure alcohol and a second one in a separate case with a saucer of wormwood oil. In two other cases he put a cat and a rabbit, both with saucers of wormwood oil. As he watched, the ‘three animals inhaling wormwood fumes grew excited and then fell into seizures. The alcohol-breathing animal merely got drunk.’ Despite immediate criticism of his methodology, not least of which was the fact he ignored the inherent difference between a ‘guinea pig inhaling high doses of distilled wormwood’ and a ‘human consuming trace amounts of diluted wormwood,’ his theories provided potent fuel to the ‘larger cultural conversation.’
In typical prohibitionist fashion, they ignored any impact that might have come from the seven glasses of strong wine he’d had before leaving work at a local vineyard, the coffee with brandy he had on the way home and the litre of wine he drank when he arrived home.
The US Pure Food Board called absinthe ‘one of the worst enemies of man,’ and vowed ‘if we can keep the people of the United States from becoming slaves to this demon, we will do it.’
The active ingredient in absinthe, thujone - the essence of wormwood - was thought for a while to be the source of the drink’s purportedly hallucinogenic properties. Research into thujone has been spotty, with reports in the 1970s reporting its intoxication to be similar to cannabis. However, further investigation showed this was erroneous. While in extremely high doses thujone can cause spasms and convulsions, it is unlikely that in the small amounts found in absinthe it has a toxic effect. Ironically, the amount of thujone allowed in modern absinthe is actually greater than that allowed in pre-ban absinthe when all of its negative influences were supposed to be happening.
Rogers is a Senior Correspondent at WIRED and previously a Knight Science Journalism Fellow MIT and a reporter for Newsweek. For additional articles, see: Adam Rogers (WIRED)
For a very thorough biography, see: Epictetus (Stanford)
I tried this crazy 🟢 stuff once in London - I seem to remember it being on fire! 🔥 A fascinating trip on the bus, Bryan - thank you!