Devotees of ye Green Fairy

[hopfrog]

"After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see them as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world."
--Oscar Wilde
(Quoted in "Reminiscences" by Ada Leverson, aka "The Sphinx")

[hopfrog]

The primitive sun has set, ushering forth an embryonic darkness that holds much promise. The glass of cool elixir is in my hand. I add unto the absinthe the flakes of dried infant's blood that I have collected in honor of Baudelaire. I lift my face to the night wind and watch the birth of starlight. I bring the smooth rim of the chilly goblet to my lips and let the bitter liquid spill into my mouth. Wormwood churns my acidic heart. Violently, I smash my glass against the rocks on which I kneel and then pick up the largest shard and hold it to dim starlight. I whisper promises to whatever dark god may heed my black prayers. I touch the shard of glass to my forehead and etch thereon an elder sign.

Starlight begins to sing. No -- not starlight; rather, the sound issues from the shapes that swirl above me in black sky. I listen to these cosmic Sirens as they swim the sea of night. Ah, their sweet voices! I am lured unto them, those airy nymphs who take hold of my reaching hands and pull me deeper into an eldritch dark.
--W. H. Pugmire, Esq.
(from "Uncommon Places," a work in progress)

[Bleak&Icy]

"Absinthe" by Raoul Ponchon

Absinthe, I adore you, truly!
It seems, when I drink you,
I inhale the young forest's soul,
During the beautiful green season.

Your perfume disconcerts me
And in your opalescence
I see the full heavens of yore,
As through an open door.

What matter, O refuge of the damned!
That you a vain paradise be,
If you appease my need;

And if, before I enter the door,
You make me put up with life,
By accustoming me to death.

[Bleak&Icy]

"Absinthe makes the tart grow fonder."

--Attributed to the poet Ernest Dowson

[Bleak&Icy]

"Absinthia Taetra" by Ernest Dowson

Green changed to white, emerald to opal; nothing was changed.

The man let the water trickle gently into his glass,
and as the green clouded,a mist fell from his mind.

Then he drank opaline.

Memories and terrors beset him. The past tore after him like a
panther and through the blackness of the present he saw the
luminous tiger eyes of the things to be.

But he drank opaline

And that obscure night of the soul, and the valley of
humiliation, through which he stumbled, were forgotten.
He saw blue vistas of undiscovered countries, high prospects
and a quiet, caressing sea. The past shed its perfume over him,
to-day held his hand as if it were a little child, and to-morrow
shone like a white star: nothing was changed.

He drank opaline.

The man had known the obscure night of the soul, and lay
even now in the valley of humiliation; and the tiger menace
of the things to be was red in the skies. But for a little while
he had forgotten.

Green changed to white, emerald to opal: nothing was changed.

[hopfrog]

"La Legende de l'Absinthe" by Aleister Crowley
(a translation from ye French, translator unknown)

Apollo, who mourned at Hyacinthe's demise,
Refused to concede this victory to Death.
Much better that the soul, adept in transformation,
Had to find a holy alchemy for beauty.
Thus with his celestial hand he drained and crushed
The subtlest harvest of the garden goddess,
The broken bodies of the herbs yielding a golden essence
From which we measure out our first drop -- of Absinthe!
In lowly hovels and in glittering courts,
Alone, in pairs, drink up this potion of desire!
For it is sorcery -- as one might say --
When the pale opal wine ends all misery,
Opens beauty's most intimate sanctuary --
- Bewitches my heart, and exalts my soul to ecstasy!

[hopfrog]

"What is there in absinthe that makes it a separate cult? ... Even in ruin and in degradation it remains a thing apart: its victims wear a ghastly aureole all their own, and in their particular hell yet gloat with a sinister perversion of pride that they are not as other men." -- Aleister Crowley

[hopfrog]

"With the first kiss his mouth will taste of wormwood. After that it will taste only of me--of my blood, my life, siphoning out of my body and into his. I will feel the sensations Louis felt: the shrivelling of my tissues, the drying-up of all my vital juices. I care not. The treasures and the pleasures of the grave? They are his hands, his lips, his tongue."

Poppy Z. Brite, "His Mouth Will Taste of Wormwood"

[The New Nonsense]

I am the green fairy by Marie Corelli


"I am the green Fairy
My robe is the color of despair
I have nothing in common with the fairies of the past
What I need is blood, red and hot,
The palpitating flesh of my victims
Alone, I will kill France, the present is dead,
Vive the future...
But me, I kill the future and in family I destroy
The love of country, courage, honor,
I am the purveyor of hell, penitentiaries, hospitals.
Who am I finally?
I am the instigator of crime
I am ruin and sorrow
I am shame
I am dishonor
I am death
I am Absinthe"


With Flowers and With Women by Charles Cros


"With Flowers, and with Women,
With Absinthe, and with this Fire,
We can divert ourselves a while,
Act out our part in some drama.

Absinthe, on a winter evening,
Lights up in green the sooty soul;
And Flowers, on the beloved,
Grow fragrant before the clear Fire.

Later, kisses lose their charm
Having lasted several seasons;
And after mutual betrayals
We part one day without a tear.

We burn letters and bouquets.
And fire takes our bower;
And if sad life is salvaged
Still there is Absinthe and its hiccups.

The portraits are eaten by flames.
Shriveled fingers tremble.
We die from sleeping long
With Flowers, and with Women."



I'm an avid absintheur. There are many lovely absinthes recently available in the US. However, a word of warning: Two days ago I picked up a bottle of Le Tourment Verte (The Green Torment), a product of France. It comes in a deceptivly attractive bottle. Once opened, I was deeply disappointed. I had erroneously assumed the bottle glass was emerald green. I was wrong. It was the acutal absinthe. Now, absinthe doesn't get that shade of green naturally. Sure enough, dye had been added. What's worse, it tasted like Scope mouthwash with a hint of aftershave. Dreadful stuff. An incredible dissappointment after becoming accustomed to high-quality brands like Lucid, St. George, Kubler and Taboo. So, to my fellow imbibers, avoid this abomination at all costs.

[Ligeia]

“Let me be mad…mad with the madness of Absinthe, the wildest, most luxurious madness in the world"

Marie Corelli