Seeking the elixir: Escape through religion, alcohol
THE philosopher Alfred Alder once said: “It is easier to fight for one’s principles than to live up to them”, and the social scientist, Karl Marx, pointed out that “religion is an opium of the people”.
It is through the philosophies of the great men cited above that the concept of escapism will be examined.
Principles are a set of regulations that shape the individual’s destiny as they determine how he/she interacts with others in a cosmopolitan context. Hence, principles mould the family unit, the community and the nation.
If principles are ignored society is bound to disintegrate.
However, characters in literary works, as in life, are worn down by hardships and frustration to the extent that they abandon their responsibilities.
Failing to find solace in the physical sites of both the family unit and the national one, they use the psychological site as a vent for escape.
Mostly, women escape through the religious vent, while many men and some women find the elixir in alcoholic beverages.
It is surprising though that most religions accommodate alcohol.
The Christian Bible is not contemptuous of alcohol as there is no clear verse one can cite to condemn it.
According to the Gospel of John, Jesus Christ’s first miracle was at a wedding in Cana where he was revered for turning water into wine drawn from the top drawer.
Alcohol envelops one in merriment, so Christ Jesus kindled the exuberance at the nuptials in Cana by providing alcohol when all seemed to be lost.
The “tree” of knowledge in Genesis, whose forbidden fruit Adam was cajoled into eating, was a grapevine.
Men of worth were blessed with rich vineyards. Yes, the Bible is not contemptuous of alcohol, no wonder why the Roman Catholics and Anglicans have no qualms with it. The Vatican City is believed to be the world’s highest consumer of wine.
So, is alcohol virtuous then?
If used in moderation, as posited by scientists, alcohol is not destructive, since it has some medicinal properties — motivational and inspiring. It is about knowing when and where to draw the line.
Who really draws that line for one to prevent drinking oneself to a stupor?
Though the Word of God seems to condone alcohol, it is uncompromising to “drunkenness” and “revellings”, as espoused by the Apostle Paul in Galatians 5:21 and Romans 13:13 when he implores; “Let us walk honestly as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envings”.
Noah, God’s chosen one was disgraced because of excessive drinking. Nadab and Abihu, Aaron’s sons, entered the Tabernacle under the influence of alcohol and were consumed by a fire issuing from heaven. David also drank himself to an ennobling and high-spirited dance to his Lord much to the chagrin of his wife.
Judaism incorporates alcohol, for it relaxes inhibitions and weakens the body’s natural defence systems to make it work in tandem with the soul to create an inspirational ambiance.
“Wine represents what Judaism is all about: the fusing of the holy and the mundane, the spiritual and physical, the body and soul,” clarifies Rabbi Avon Moss. A life of asceticism and abstinence is rather unrealistic as it defeats the communion that should prevail between the body and the soul.
Alcohol imbibing is described as “bringing joy to God and man”, (Judges 9:13); every sacrifice offered in the Holy Temple was accompanied by a wine libation. However, escapism is considered dangerous and unacceptable, for it robs the individual of responsibility by creating a surreal world.
Notwithstanding the reasons that may be proffered for the consumption of alcohol as espoused in most religions, the element of escapism is prevalent. Little wonder why the Torah, which is the revealed will of God, extols the virtue, courage and holiness of the Nazirite, who vows to abstain from wine.
In the African traditional milieu, alcohol has been used since time immemorial, not only for pleasure, but for divinity and communion. It is used at traditional ceremonies for rain, weddings, harvesting and other social gatherings.
Moslems, on the other hand, consider the consumption of alcohol as despicable and unholy. According to an Indonesian Chief, Habid Muhammad bin Toha Assegaff, “alcoholic beverages are linked to sexual violence and episodes of adultery”. Use of alcohol is frowned at and punishment is usually meted out unsparingly.
Egyptians are allowed only two purchases of three litres (3, 2 quarts) each per year and foreigners are allowed four purchases annually. Considering such draconian regulations to contain its use in the Moslem world, is alcohol really that bad? Maybe an analysis of its use in literature may proffer some answers.
In George Orwell’s “Animal Farm”, after realising the folly of alcohol through its abuse by their master, Mr Jones, who becomes his nemesis, the animals resolve to ban its use in their kingdom by coining the maxim, “No animal shall drink alcohol”. However, this noble idea is soon jeopardised by the pigs’ propensity for opulence and the bizarre. The maxim is changed to, “No animal shall drink alcohol in excess”, and thereafter the pigs, who constitute the leadership, are no better than Man, their enemy.
Owing to frustration and hardships, alcohol has become a substance used for pleasure and drowning sorrows.
Peter Abrahams exposes the use of alcohol in this vein in “Mine Boy” (1946). In “Kachasu-a killer” (2005), Julius Chingono examines how poverty and frustration drive people to seek comfort in alcohol. The affable Henchard, the protagonist in Thomas Hardy’s “The Mayor of Casterbridge”, is haunted by an incident in which he sells his wife to a sailor in drunken stupor and madness.
This culture of consumption, which reduces individuals to alcoholics, is a bad precedent in the shaping of an authentic vision for the nation.
This folly is also explored by Shimmer Chinodya in “Queues” (2003), “Tavonga” (2005) and “Chairman of Fools” (2005). In “Queues” the narrator in the collective voice boasts: “We knocked lager after lager and gorged ourselves on sadza and cows’ hooves”.
In “Tavonga”, the narrator is known as “Bhiya” “alias Beer”, and he lives by the name. Like the narrator in “Queues” and Farai in “Chairman of Fools”, he imbibes like a sponge and does not seem to do anything for his children as a father ought to do nor does he seem to do anything else.
Charles Mungoshi also lambasts such tendencies in “Walking Still” (1997). In “The Empty House”, Gwizo escapes from the reality of his situation through the alcoholic vent much to the detriment of his marriage. By escaping from responsibility and accountability as an artist and a husband, he exposes his vulnerable and lonely white wife, to the prying eyes of his father, who later on impregnates her, thus complicating the situation that he thought good to escape from.
Since beer is symbolic of pleasure and abandonment of obligation, Farai in “Chairman of Fools”, is unable to release himself from the labyrinth in which he entangles himself. His perpetual state of drunkenness is responsible for his loss of grasp of reality.
His clinging on to hallucinations and recurrent dreams of death may be a result of extreme reliance on alcohol, and as a result discord plays havoc with the music of his soul.
Religion, as Marx reasons, is an intoxicating drug, which makes people escape into reverie as they grapple with their daily tribulations.
Religion makes people not to forget their problems, but to tolerate them as they hallucinate over them.
Religion, like alcohol, therefore, only offers a temporary reprieve, instead of providing solutions. By using nihilistic aspects of modernism, Chinodya holds up religion as having a negative impact on the national psyche.
Like alcohol, religion intoxicates and makes people to negate their values, duties and responsibilities.
The narrator’s family in “Tavonga” has broken down because of a combination of excessive belief in alcohol and religion.
This is also true of Farai’s family in “Chairman of Fools”.
Although religion and alcohol may help people “to bolster their waning sanity in a vicious world” (“Queues”), the phenomena are destructive to the family unit and impinge on the national consciousness. Religion and alcohol are two “evils” at the centre of the social neurosis, malaise and paralysis negatively impacting the family, community and nation as principles are traded for pleasure.