Potted history
KATE DAVISON enjoys a rollicking ride through the history of our enduring love-hate relationship with alcohol
A Short History of Drunkenness by Mark Forsyth Viking, 256 pages, £12.99
Covering the entire story of “how, why, where and when mankind has got merry, from the Stone Age to the present” is a tall order for a self-proclaimed ‘short history’. Indeed, a little over 200 pages is not much to relate thousands of years’ history of anything, let alone drunkenness, which – as Mark Forsyth points out – probably predates human society itself. Yet, he succeeds in distilling a coherent narrative with a dry sense of humour, making for a highly readable account.
Forsyth’s search for the sozzled of centuries past results in a romp through an array of historical drinking occasions. The reader is whisked from an ancient Sumerian bar to a 1920s New York speakeasy, via a Greek symposium, a medieval English alehouse and a dinner party with Stalin. The chapters cover such an assortment of times and places that the book’s central premise – that drunkenness is (and always has been) a human reflex – is difficult to deny.
Also hard to argue with is the intrinsic allure of the topic, especially when recounted with such a keen eye for detail. Forsyth includes not just where and when people got drunk, but how: the jokes and songs that animated the taverns of Ur in ancient Mesopotamia; the seating plan of a Roman convivium; or the customers and conventions of a Wild West saloon – without the Hollywood trappings. Almost every page contains something to arouse curiosity. We learn how Socrates could hold his drink, that vodka may have caused the Russian Revolution and that, once George Washington had hung up his presidential seal, he got down to the real business of running one of America’s biggest distilleries, serving a range of flavoured whiskies and brandies made from apple, persimmon and peach.
Drunkenness may be everywhere in human history, but its manifestations and meanings are specific to each society. This is what makes it such rich pickings for cultural history: embedded in the how, where and when of drinking are cultures’ rituals, customs and beliefs. Although Forysth notes this potential, his pace is too brisk to exploit it fully. Veering across centuries and continents, there’s no time to dwell on wider social attitudes revealed by drinking habits. For all its wealth of descriptive detail, the book is self-consciously light on scholarly analysis.
The off-the-cuff style is well suited to this approach and will entertain many, though perhaps not all: a chapter called ‘The Dark Ages’ is unlikely to win over early medievalists, nor would w historians working in the vibrant field of intoxicants agree that, as he suggests, they have ignored the minutiae of drinking. However, readers looking for a lighter take on a fascinating aspect of history will surely raise a glass to this enjoyable book, and deservedly so.