The French nicknamed it ‘La Fee Verte’ or ‘The Green Fairy’, and it has been rumoured to incite madness and cause hallucinations. Its consumption can be dated back to ancient , where people used it to prevent malaria, and it was even banned in the US until 2007. I am, of course, writing about absinthe, the spirit which has a reputation as salacious and misunderstood as the bohemian creatives who popularised it.
My first introduction to the concept of absinthe was when I was thirteen years old watching Baz Luhrmann’s camp masterpiece for the first time. In one of the film’s opening scenes, the story’s protagonist, Christian, a poet played by Ewan McGregor, helps a troupe of eccentric performers finish their play, after which they celebrate by all drinking absinthe. The film depicts the drink as a hallucinogenic drug, with Kylie Minogue portraying a literal green fairy who almost hypnotises the group in a serialist sequence familiar to Luhrmann’s fantastical visual .
By the end of the scene, I was fascinated not just by the chaotic artistic world which the film indulges but with the drink. Now, nine years later, I’m in for a late afternoon absinthe tasting and tour of the exhibition at the The space includes an absinthe bar, and is home to the a museum in the basement filled to the brim with a collection of bizarre and morbid items including a mermaid skeleton, a two-headed lamb, old dolls, and religious pornography; whilst also almost acting as a shrine to its owner. When I inspect the basement with my friend Isaac Benigson, who accompanied me, we were both unsure whether to be intrigued or deeply disturbed by the experience.
I think it’s a little bit of both. The current exhibition in the absinthe bar, however, examines the rise and fall of the illicit spirit, taking its name from Marie Corelli’s 1890 novel , which includes the line ‘Let me be mad, then, by all means! mad with the madness of absinthe, the wildest, most luxurious madness in the world!’ A fitting title since the novel played into the debauched mythology around the drink, which led to its ultimate downfall. When Isaac and I arrive at the venue we’re each immediately greeted with a glass of the green spirit, sugar cubes and fountain.
For those unaware of the traditions around drinking absinthe, I must inform you that it is not as simple a task as drinking a cocktail. Since it has a far too high alcohol content to be drunk straight, it must be diluted with water, so the French designed a ‘ritual’ to help consumers drink it slowly. The drink also has an intense flavour similar to black liquorice, since it contains anise, so the sugar helps to make it less bitter.
The absinthe is poured in a small, stemmed glass, with a sugar cube then placed on a holed spoon on the rim of the glass. The glass sits below a fountain of distilled water, which pours one drop at a time, until the sugar is all dissolved and the alcohol diluted. This method, which also involves some concentration and precision, gives you plenty of time to converse with a drinking partner whilst still sober.
In our case, it allows us to eagerly listen to one of the museum's managers, as he explains the intriguing history of absinthe. He talks about the height of the drink’s popularity, when absinthe was extremely prevalent amongst the hedonistic artists, who came to Paris during the ; a period of history between 1871 to 1914, when was the epicentre of creative, commercial and technological innovation. Like the characters in , a film set in 1899 Paris, artists and writers including Vincent Van Gogh, Edward Munch and Ernest Hemingway, were known absinthe drinkers, perpetuating the avant-garde mythology surrounding the drink and some even blaming the spirit for their erratic behaviour.
Once our drinks are properly diluted, we walk around the museum, a glass of green liquor in hand, learning about the spirit’s downfall and controversial legacy. Much of this is due to extreme propaganda fuelled by the wine industry, which wanted to eradicate their competition by perpetuating the narrative that absinthe was morally abhorrent. This smear campaign around the drink focused on the side effects of so-called ‘absinthism’: a fictitious syndrome that was said to cause attacks of delirium, leading to extreme violence, as well as hallucination.
Although the side effects from absinthe possess no less distinction from alcoholism, the propaganda was successful, and the drink was banned in the US and much of Europe. However in the 21 century there has been a resurgence in the green liquor, reappearing in countries which never fully banned the drink, until eventually remerging legally in the US in 2007. I I first tried absinthe, since I, like many, was somewhat victim to the illicit rumours surrounding the drink.
At the time, I was both relieved and slightly disappointed to discover that the modern-day legal consumption didn’t give me hallucinogenic visuals and instead made me only drunk. Now, although it’s not exactly my go-to order at a bar, I do indulge from time to time and even offer it at my late-night poetry nights, as a homage to the late 19 century creatives who favoured it. where I host most of my poetry nights is luckily complete both with a fountain and a bar manager, Jack Porter, who seems to possess an encyclopaedic knowledge on absinthe as well as seemingly every other drink known to man.
Still, when discussing the drink with people who aren’t overly familiar, it’s clear the spirit has yet to shed its controversial reputation. When I spoke to Jenny Gardener, the so called ‘Queen of Absinthe’ and founder of drinks company she explained that she still has to frequently tell shoppers the drink doesn’t possess any hallucinogenic qualities. However, she is a ‘firm believer in the placebo effect’, believing that 'if you really believe you'll get an 'effect' from drinking absinthe, then you probably will.
' Although Gardener also describes the drink as ‘medicine’, this is not yet an image endorsed by the , many of whom still view it as a recreational drug. It is hard to say whether the so-called ‘green fairy’ will ever distance itself from its provocative reputation, but I personally like the idea that people think I’m engaging in some sort of classical debauchery, when in fact I’m simply enjoying a strong drink. It never hurts for people to think you’re far more interesting than you truly are.
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