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A review by 1and8pence2much
Confessions of an English Opium Eater by Thomas De Quincey
3.0
This was, weirdly enough, the first work of “classic literature” that I have ever read (though, I must say I understand why this was my choice: who would not be interested in reading a book about a man in the early nineteenth century taking opium?) I can well remember bombarding my friends with various specific details about Thomas de Quincey’s life for days after first reading it (a particular favourite of mine to discuss is an extract from the revised edition from 1856, where de Quincey described himself crossing a river (on which there was a tidal wave; an ordinary occurrence in Wales? I do not think so!), complete with a meticulous description of the exact place near the river in which he was standing and two Greek mythology references: in only one and a half pages!)
The book’s contents fall into amusing (de Quincey’s near-failed attempt to carry his baggage through his headmaster’s house upon leaving), miserable (his times spent in a lodging on Oxford Street) and downright concerning (de Quincey’s wonderings concerning the question: “if I keep dreaming of lakes, might I have oedema?”) The book, being written by a person who was well aware of the fact that he was writing a popular account that would be a first in Western literature, is completely unreliable as a genuine source on opium use (which, to me, makes it even better) though, if one is researching drug use in media, this will prove to be extremely interesting (there is a lengthy part in one of the book’s appendices where De Quincey thoroughly criticised the portrayal of opium use in another work or literature, “Anastasius”, supposedly, as I assume, written by an author never having taken opium. Though concerning other works, such discussions still persist two centuries on, which is very interesting to me!) Other than that, it well embodies what some would typically imagine a stereotypical nineteenth century text to be like: that is, the beginning of the section titled “The Pains of Opium” reeks painfully of orientalism and there are several sentences that last well over half a page.
Although it is not the most enjoyable reading to me now, I am somewhat glad I know it exists (and have an author to blame for myself writing sentences that run on for a third of a page). Is it something I would recommend to everyone and anyone? No. Does it successfully fill the part of my brain scavenging for odd and unusual literature-related information? It sure does!
The book’s contents fall into amusing (de Quincey’s near-failed attempt to carry his baggage through his headmaster’s house upon leaving), miserable (his times spent in a lodging on Oxford Street) and downright concerning (de Quincey’s wonderings concerning the question: “if I keep dreaming of lakes, might I have oedema?”) The book, being written by a person who was well aware of the fact that he was writing a popular account that would be a first in Western literature, is completely unreliable as a genuine source on opium use (which, to me, makes it even better) though, if one is researching drug use in media, this will prove to be extremely interesting (there is a lengthy part in one of the book’s appendices where De Quincey thoroughly criticised the portrayal of opium use in another work or literature, “Anastasius”, supposedly, as I assume, written by an author never having taken opium. Though concerning other works, such discussions still persist two centuries on, which is very interesting to me!) Other than that, it well embodies what some would typically imagine a stereotypical nineteenth century text to be like: that is, the beginning of the section titled “The Pains of Opium” reeks painfully of orientalism and there are several sentences that last well over half a page.
Although it is not the most enjoyable reading to me now, I am somewhat glad I know it exists (and have an author to blame for myself writing sentences that run on for a third of a page). Is it something I would recommend to everyone and anyone? No. Does it successfully fill the part of my brain scavenging for odd and unusual literature-related information? It sure does!