ABSINTHE: EXQUISITE TO THE EYE AND MIND

Absinthe is a word that invokes a cacophony of sordid imagery and anecdotes. The liquor itself carries a legacy as a bohemian panacea — one that is praised and demonized in written works and immortalized in imagery. There has been a shared belief through history that the Green Fairy inspired artists and writers alike to bursts of creative genius as a reward to those willing to step into her world.

Absinthe is forever immortalized in the colorful writings of those who found themselves seduced by its power to fuel creativity, a virtue with which it was often credited. And in the pigments and paints that one glimpses across the passage of time and through the harsh lens of reality, haunting figures emerge from the past, illustrating the full palette of color associated with the café culture of the Belle Époque — the Beautiful Period.

It is in the smoky, bustling cafés of Paris that many an irreverent idea emerged, giving birth to a new genre of artists that shunned the old norms of Realism in favor of embracing the freedom of Impressionism.

Absinthe Is Mightier Than the Pen

The mists of absinthe curl through the very Zeitgeist of Paris’s Bohemian Period. The tapestry of colors, the richness of language — the liquor was considered an artistic muse during the decadence that marked the age. From sculpture to paint, and prose to poetry, the creative works of the time bear its unmistakable imprint.

One such poet, Symbolist Charles Baudelaire, became enveloped in the fashionable excesses of intoxicants requisite for a bohemian existence in Paris. And while the city provided a wealth of subject matter for his musings, he scoffed at its culture, referring to it as “a center radiating universal stupidity.”

Baudelaire’s angst often found him at odds with the public and critics alike. His work, Les Paradis Artificiels, disparaged the fake mysticism that was riding a wave of popularity. In an era that Baudelaire viewed as plagued by a desire to seek shortcuts to spiritual enlightenment, he praised drugs and alcohol as the most convenient route to an instant paradise, insisting, “Be drunk always!” The subversive nature of his works drew legal action to suppress what were deemed attacks upon morality. Eventually, he would come to terms with his addictions, noting that he had felt “a breath of wind of the wings of madness.” However, he would eventually succumb to the consequences of his indiscretions in 1867 at the age of forty-six.

Poetry through Clouds of Chaos and Passion

Another member of the Symbolist poetical movement was lauded French poet Paul Verlaine. Like Baudelaire, Verlaine applied symbolic meaning to imagery and objects. And like Baudelaire, Verlaine was an absinthe drinker. In 1870, the twenty-six-year-old Verlaine married a young woman about ten years his junior, who became pregnant soon thereafter.

Following two years of marriage, Verlaine’s life became unduly complicated when he relinquished regular employment in favor of a career in drinking. It would become only more so upon receiving a letter from a rambunctious young poet named Arthur Rimbaud. A free-spirited youth of sixteen, Rimbaud’s poetic genius and disregard for social convention fascinated Verlaine, who introduced him to his circle of bohemian friends and their absinthe-drinking lifestyle. Eventually the two would become lovers, which had the effect of adding even more upheaval to Verlaine’s troubled world.

With Verlaine becoming increasingly fixated upon Rimbaud and absinthe, he all but lost interest in his wife and child, whom he physically abused and soon abandoned. Common sense had been replaced by violence and debauchery. To further this trend, Rimbaud’s cavalier abandonment of all social convention tested the moral standards of even the most liberal of Verlaine’s bohemian associates. Rimbaud’s pursuit of perpetual derangement challenged the tolerance of those around him. Rimbaud’s recklessness and Verlaine’s inability to restrain him became a constant source of turbulence and quarreling.

The two traveled to London in 1872 amidst a cloud of tension, and scratched together an impoverished living. The situation soon became unbearable for Verlaine, who returned to Paris in 1873. Unable to abandon his longing for Rimbaud, Verlaine traveled to Belgium, inviting Rimbaud to join him. The reunion would reignite the old quarreling, and Verlaine took refuge in drink. Soon thereafter, while in a fit of rage, Verlaine fired a pistol at Rimbaud, which caused a superficial wound.

Rimbaud handled the incident calmly, but decided to leave. This had the effect of enraging Verlaine, giving Rimbaud sufficient cause to contact the police. An investigation soon revealed the homosexual nature of their relationship, and Verlaine was sentenced to two years in prison. Upon his release, he found himself estranged from his family and friends. Swearing off the evil absinthe, Verlaine soon traveled again to England, where he resumed his life as an educator.

In 1877, Verlaine returned to France, where he became an English teacher in Paris. It is during that time that he met a pupil, Lucien Létinois, who inspired Verlaine to write more poetry. When Létinois suddenly died from typhus in 1883, Verlaine was shattered. In his latter days, he became a destitute alcoholic and addict. He was frequently spotted milling about the cafés of the Quartier Latin in tatters, having become reduced to a rather pathetic muse to a curious public. Verlaine’s ragged lifestyle would soon get the better of him, as by his own admission, “For me, my glory is a humble, ephemeral absinthe.” He died in 1896, at the age of fifty-one.

Upon his departure from the world of Paul Verlaine, Rimbaud briefly indulged himself in writing, composing several notable works. In 1876, he abandoned writing and joined the Dutch Colonial Army, traveling to the Dutch East Indies. Shortly thereafter, he deserted and returned to France. Rimbaud assumed a life as a trader and merchant, spending most of his time in East Africa. In 1891, he returned to France for treatment for a lesion on his knee. It turned out to be bone cancer. He would die in Marseilles later that year at the age of thirty-seven.

Oscar Wilde

Perhaps the most famous of Great Britain’s absinthe imbibers was a young Irish playwright who was already decorated for his skill in verse even before attending Oxford. A man of physical stature and a flare for style, Oscar Wilde founded the Aesthetic Movement, which promoted the value of purely aesthetic art, literature, and music, sometimes described with the maxim, “Art for art’s sake.”

Wilde’s razor-sharp wit and skill in both written verse and conversation vaulted him into notoriety. He is credited with forging quips such as, “What difference is there between a glass of absinthe and a sunset?” and “Absinthe makes the tart grow fonder.” His expertise in Aestheticism earned him an invitation to travel to America on a lecture tour, where he is recorded to have had experiences as diverse as drinking whiskey with miners in Colorado and visiting the Old Absinthe House in the Paris of the New World, New Orleans. Similarly, Wilde enjoyed extensive stays in Paris, where he indulged in the irreverent bohemian culture and his writings, only to return to London upon running out of money. It is during his time in Paris, circa 1882, that one evening at the Café François Premier Wilde was brought vis-à-vis with Paul Verlaine. It was a rather memorable incident, with the flamboyant Wilde being somewhat dumbstruck with pity at the relatively tattered Verlaine. An account of the meeting noted that Wilde’s pleasantries went largely unheeded, as Verlaine kept nodding to his (empty) absinthe glass. Wilde was so distressed by his interaction with Verlaine that he remarked that he could not bear to meet him again.

Wilde was no stranger to the virtues of extended Café visits, where he occasionally indulged in the liquid green lubricant. In London, Wilde is known to have been a patron of the famous Café Royal, which remains in operation at its original location at 68 Regent Street in the Piccadilly district. It is in this venue that Wilde is said to have made a fateful decision that would forever change is life.

A man of reasonable means, Wilde had married Constance Lloyd in 1884 with whom he had two children. His interest in his marriage waned after several years, however — particularly upon meeting and beginning an affair with a young Canadian by the name of Robert Ross. Over the course of the next several years, Wilde penned children’s books, hit plays, and what became a popular novel. In 1895 Wilde was left a calling card by John Douglas, the Marquess of Queensberry, which bore the accusation, “For Oscar Wilde posing Somdomite [sic],” letting Wilde know that the Marquess had become aware of the affair Wilde was having with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas. It was in the Café Royal, under the admonishment of the younger Douglas and against the advice of his friends, that Wilde decided to pursue legal action for libel.

Wilde’s fateful decision resulted in damning evidence being brought forth that demonstrated Wilde was a practicing homosexual, which resulted in charges of sodomy and gross indecency, and a subsequent jail term. Following two years of incarceration, Wilde was released and promptly traveled to Naples to meet Douglas before relocating permanently to Paris. Wilde’s existence in Paris would be short-lived, as he became critically ill from cerebral meningitis. As Wilde convalesced in a hotel that would be his final stop, his last words are said to be something to the effect of, “This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. Either it goes or I go.” He succumbed to his illness shortly thereafter, dying bankrupt at the age of forty-six.

Speaking Truth to Power through the Absurd

The literary world has produced few characters as colorful as Surrealist and Symbolist Alfred Jarry. As a schoolboy, Jarry couldn’t help but poke fun at a bumbling teacher, which evolved into a play involving marionettes. The caricatures invoked in this pastime would give birth to one that became the bizarre character known as Ubu, the star of Jarry’s most famous work, Ubu Roi (1896).

Jarry would soon discover the wonders of absinthe, which he affectionately referred to as the “green goddess.” Upon being discharged from the army amidst a gaggle of laughs, Jarry took up residence in Paris, where he indulged in writing clever absurdities. He was viewed as an intelligent, albeit bizarre and unpredictable character, which no doubt caused minor controversy in social settings. Furthermore, given Jarry’s disdain for water as a poison (in part because fish urinate in it), he would take his absinthe without it, seemingly confirming the age-old wisdom that only a lunatic would take it neat. Like fellow Symbolists who preceded him, Jarry also adopted the philosophy that intoxication was the path to artistic purity.

The evening of December 10, 1896, saw the opening of his play Ubu Roi, the production of which was a feat in itself, given the absurdity of the work. Of particular note was the opening line, “Merdre!” — a humorous twist on the expletive shit. The effect was a solid fifteen minutes of audience pandemonium — a blend of laughter, cheers, boos, and whistling. Despite an evening of such interruptions, the spectacle vaulted Jarry into fame, something he capitalized on by immersing himself in his absurd world.

Jarry’s mockery of Parisian society led him to adopt the absurdities expressed by his fictitious characters, undoubtedly to the annoyance of those he encountered. He was known for pronouncing every silent letter in the French language — with emphasis. He named his bicycle Clément, and carried a loaded pistol. His apartment was configured such that the ceiling was just high enough for his small five-foot stature, which necessitated that his guests stoop or crouch. Perhaps Jarry’s most amusing “accomplishment” came through his invention of pataphysics, a pseudoscience of bizarre explanations, in which every event in the universe, no matter how mundane and repeatable, is deemed extraordinary.

Jarry’s antics fortified his heroic status among his peers, but his lifestyle of intoxicants, complicated by the ravages of tuberculosis, brought about an early end. His penchant for the absurd was seemingly uninterrupted by the deathbed, where it is said that his last request was, oddly enough, for a toothpick. Jarry died in 1907 at the age of thirty-four.

Ernest Hemingway

The works of Ernest Hemingway frequently reference absinthe, and it’s no surprise that the author was a lifelong aficionado of the drink. From For Whom the Bell Tolls to The Sun Also Rises, Hemingway’s characters frequently turn to and savor absinthe as a drink of choice.

The author likely first encountered absinthe after he relocated to Paris at the admonishment of novelist Sherwood Anderson, who described it as where “the most interesting people in the world live.”

His association with Gertrude Stein and acquaintance with famous Parisian writers and artists during his stay in Paris (1921–1928) ensured that he became well versed in the role absinthe played during the Belle Époque — but being born in 1899, he was a bit late to the party. France, however, served as a convenient launching point for excursions into Spain, and it is there that Hemingway cultivated his penchant for the green muse, sipping it with friends in Barcelona, and going so far as to note in his short story The Strange Country (1946) that surviving stocks of pre-ban absinthe in those times were preferable to the contemporary Spanish versions of pre-ban French brands being produced under license.

Upon returning to the Western Hemisphere in 1928, Hemingway relocated to Key West, Florida, during the terrible period known as Prohibition, where he evidently procured bottles of absinthe while on fishing trips to nearby Cuba.

In a 1931 letter, he remarks,

“Got tight last night on absinthe and did knife tricks. Great success shooting the knife underhand into the piano. The woodworms are so bad and eat hell out of all the furniture that you can always claim the woodworms did it.”

Eventually, Hemingway’s association with absinthe would be widely known, as an absinthe-laced champagne cocktail from the period was dubbed Death in the Afternoon, clearly in homage to his nonfiction account of Spanish bullfighting of the same name, first published in 1932. After a lengthy, distinguished career in writing, Hemingway would take his own life in 1961, following episodes of heavy drinking and depression.

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Sips

Until the mid-nineteenth century, the art world was subject to standards of content and style that largely restricted fine art to the subjects of religious events, mythological scenes, and portraits. In France, the Académie des Beaux-Arts upheld these standards, going so far as to scrutinize art based on the attention to finishing details; few observable traces of the artist’s individuality, such as brushstrokes or technique, remained. Such was the pattern of Realism, which aimed to depict scenes most objectively, without the influence of supernatural elements or dramatic color.

Édouard Manet hailed from a family of respectable social status, and opened his own Parisian art studio in 1856 following travels around Europe to study various works of art. Having clearly followed the standards of Realism in his earlier days, Manet undertook a deliberate departure from those rules. He favored instead an unorthodox style, one that discarded traditional tones and exhibited an unusual technique in which his brushstrokes remained distinct, infusing his works with an individualistic texture. Such brazen unconventionality simultaneously drew the admiration of young bohemian artists and the criticism of the Académie.

It is the notorious rejection of Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe (The Luncheon on the Grass, 1862) that some credit as the launch of the Impressionist age. The Académie was appalled by Manet’s use of vivid colors and “slapdash” brushstrokes — not to mention, the subject matter of a completely nude woman having a picnic luncheon with two fully dressed men seemed contrary to propriety. However, it is his first original and first important work, Le Buveur d’absinthe (The Absinthe Drinker), from 1859, that showcases Manet’s departure from “good taste,” which was reinforced upon its rejection that same year from the Salon, the annual exhibition by the Académie des Beaux-Arts.

Manet was known to frequent the popular Tortoni’s Café at the time, where his peers included contemporary figures such as fellow artist Gustave Courbet and Baudelaire. Manet and Baudelaire were good friends, which suggests the influence of Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du mal in Manet’s choice of subject for his painting — a man by the name of Collardet, a beggar who frequented the Louvre.

The rejection of Manet’s early works by the Salon was hardly surprising given the relatively subversive nature of these paintings, but this only strengthened his resolve as an artist, giving confirmation to Baudelaire’s idea that the confines of societal norms should not deter artists from remaining true to their vision.

Green Clouds at the Café

During Manet’s time, the burgeoning working-class population in Paris supported a tremendous number of cafés and cabarets, which were well versed in serving absinthe to thirsty patrons. Some of these venues, such as the Moulin Rouge in the red-light district of Pigalle, became globally renowned for their artistic, risqué revelry. They were frequented by colorful characters such as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Vincent van Gogh, and Paul Gauguin. But of all the cafés and bistros in the city, perhaps none were as familiar with L’Heure Verte , or the Green Hour, as those in the Montmartre area, which served as the epicenter around which the bohemian writers and artists revolved.

One such popular café was the Nouvelle-Athénes at Place Pigalle. In 1876, this café served as the backdrop from which Edgar Degas would create his famous painting L’Absinthe (The Absinthe Drinker) — with his acquaintances, fellow artist Marcellin Desboutin and actress Ellen Andrée — serving as its subjects. The pair is depicted sitting at a marble table, with Desboutin drinking what appears to be an innocuous coffee while smoking a pipe. Sitting next to him in an apparent stupor and seemingly oblivious to her surroundings is Andrée, and placed before her on the table is a glass of cloudy green liquid that is unmistakably absinthe.

Degas’s painting caused quite a stir, with Andrée being chastised in particular for her role in allowing Degas to create such a monstrosity. The criticism was so severe, in fact, that the painting was put into storage, not being shown again until it was taken to England in 1893. London Victorian society considered the painting an abomination of morality, and it stoked feelings of Francophobia. Additionally, the work was perceived to be a warning against the consumption of absinthe and the degradation to propriety it caused. The painting was eventually sold to a British collector, and survives today as a classic example of Impressionist art.

The Condition of van Gogh

Perhaps none of the absinthe-quaffing artists of the period was as famous and controversial as Vincent van Gogh. While his problems began well in advance of his arrival in Paris in the spring of 1886, van Gogh no doubt found Paris to be welcoming of his habits of drinking and smoking in excess. Some claim that it was the two artists he befriended, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and Paul Gauguin, who introduced him to absinthe and prostitutes, but it is quite likely that he would have found them anyway. Having completed more than two hundred paintings in two years’ time, van Gogh found himself exhausted by Paris, and moved to Arles in the south of France.

Despite dealing with chronic illnesses as a result of his smoking and absinthe drinking, van Gogh intended to establish a utopian art colony in Arles. Eventually, he convinced his Parisian acquaintance Gauguin to visit in Arles, and the two shared a house. After a couple of months, Gauguin grew increasingly intolerant of van Gogh, who similarly resented Gauguin’s superior attitude. The two quarreled about art, and there was an air of constant tension. The situation reached a crisis point upon Gauguin announcing his departure, which triggered van Gogh to make physical threats, culminating in the famous self-mutilation incident in which he severed part of his ear, almost bleeding to death as a result.

Theories abound as to the causes of van Gogh’s mania, but it seems clear that he suffered from a host of psychiatric disorders and possibly syphilis, all of which were undoubtedly exacerbated by his substance abuse and weak physical condition. He checked himself into a mental hospital in May 1889, the remainder of his short life mottled with numerous paintings in between psychotic episodes. It was during these experiences that the artist was said to have resorted to such habits as drinking turpentine and ingesting paints. It is also claimed that he continued drinking absinthe during this time, often being gifted bottles from well-wishing friends. The constant cloud of depression eventually became too much for van Gogh to endure, and he shot himself in July 1890. And while van Gogh managed to sell merely one painting in his entire lifetime, his works are now priceless.

Toulouse-Lautrec: Absinthe’s Favored Son

One individual van Gogh befriended while in Paris was an eccentric character of relatively diminished physical stature by the name of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Having originated from an aristocratic family that was subject to inbreeding — his own parents were first cousins — Lautrec suffered congenital issues as a child, most notably resulting in stunted growth after breaking both femurs when he was an adolescent. While his upper body was normally proportioned, his legs ceased growing and his mature height barely reached five feet as a result. Being unable to participate in physical activities, the young Lautrec took a keen interest in art, for which he displayed considerable talent. By the age of eighteen, he was sent by his mother to study with the masters in Paris. While being formally schooled in the finer points of classical art, Lautrec soon abandoned that direction in favor of Impressionism.

Lautrec became an inhabitant of the bohemian center of Montmarte, where he resided for some twenty years. It is there, amidst the avant-garde revelry of this bohemian center, that Lautrec developed his niche for portraying taboo subjects, such as workers in the sex industry, in a manner that was deemed sensible and humane. Lautrec’s paintings were the subject of art exhibitions and open-air displays, both of which earned him considerable notoriety and secured much commissioned work. One distinguishing element of Lautrec’s style was derived from his interest in Japanese woodblock prints — an influence evident in many of his commissioned posters. The proceeds from such work earned Lautrec a reasonable living. Also, being a reasonably good English speaker, Lautrec traveled to London, where he befriended Oscar Wilde, and engaged in additional commissioned advertisements.

When the Moulin Rouge opened nearby in 1889, Lautrec was commissioned to create a series of posters for the now famous venue. Befittingly, the Moulin Rouge always reserved a seat for Lautrec, who was a regular patron and befriended the performers, many of whom appeared in his paintings. Lautrec also frequented other cabarets, brothels, dance halls, and bars of Montmartre, all of which profoundly impacted his continuous stream of ideas, which he would sketch by night and paint by day. Being viewed somewhat as a physical outlier, it is no surprise that Lautrec often hired the services of prostitutes. He empathized with them as sharing a similar dilemma: he was excluded from society because of his physical condition, they because of their moral transgressions.

Lautrec’s limited physical stature did nothing to limit his propensity to drink, which was hardly considered inappropriate in the parlors of excess that he favored. Lautrec found a friend in absinthe, and to ensure he was never without it, he sported a hollow walking stick that was filled with the liquid green elixir. He is noted for louching his absinthe with not water but cognac, the resulting mix being referred to as a Tremblement de Terre (Earthquake). Lautrec expressed other ideas in the creative mixing of absinthe, also louching it with red or white wine in artfully layered cocktails he called “Rainbow Cups.”

Lautrec’s philosophy of “drink little, but drink often,” eventually overcame his constitution, causing him to collapse from exhaustion and chronic alcoholism. He was committed to a sanatorium for three months in 1899, where his recovery resulted in thirty-nine circus-performer portraits. Upon his release, he returned to Paris briefly, and then departed his city studio to travel around France. Eventually, alcoholism and syphilis, the latter of which he contracted from a prostitute, caught up with him. He died of complications from his indiscretions in 1901, at the age of thirty-six.

Mists of Green through the Blue Period

Paris became home to another of the most influential figures of Belle Époque art, the inimitable Pablo Picasso. A native of Andalusia, Picasso moved to Paris at the age of twenty in 1901 to further his art skills. Devastated by the suicide of his friend Carlos Casagemas, Picasso’s “Blue Period” spawned dark works that illustrated beggars, prostitutes, and addicts — the seedy underbelly of Parisian society. Picasso traveled back and forth between Paris and Barcelona, collecting impressions of the darker elements of bohemian life from both of these vibrant cities. While not noted to be a habitual absinthe fancier himself, Picasso bore witness to scenes of nocturnal absinthe drinkers, and immortalized several stunning works in gothic palettes that depict what are oftentimes gaunt and ghastly characters indulging in the green liquid. Picasso’s perspective from his subjects appears to be one of a voyeur, likely in part due to his apparent restraint from allowing himself to become engulfed in the common intoxicants of the era. Furthermore, Picasso was able to attract buyers for his works of art, which endowed him with some fame and finances from a relatively early age. It is almost certainly Picasso’s discretion as a young man that afforded him a lifespan well beyond those of many of his less fortunate contemporaries.

Curiously enough, many of the artistic works of the Belle Époque would go largely unappreciated in their time. Those who broke the rules followed by their masters and mentors did so because they rejected the conventions of the bourgeoisie in favor of the freedom to enjoy each passing moment, as opposed to structuring their lives around a predetermined path toward eventual wealth and delayed gratification. Absinthe served as a liquid catalyst for these ideas, and the sheer popularity of the green spirit earned it its place as an icon of freedom — a ticket into a carefree world of unregulated intoxication, revelry, and promiscuity. This era would come to an abrupt end at the onset of the First World War, which carved a path of destruction through the heart of the French nation.

By Betina J. Wittels and T.A. Breaux in " Absinthe: The Exquisite Elixir", Fulcrum Publishing, USA, 2017, excerpts  pp.28-58. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.