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 Egypt, 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 Moulin Rouge 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 style. 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 Hackney for a late afternoon absinthe tasting and tour of the exhibition Let Me Be Mad at the Last Tuesday Society. The space includes an absinthe bar, and is home to the Viktor Wynd Museum of Curiosities, 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.