Craze:
Gin and Debauchery in the Age of Reason
By Jessica Warner
Four Walls Eight Windows
The
first thing one must do upon reading Jessica Warner’s Craze:
Gin and Debauchery in the Age of Reason is to reconcile the vast
amount of gin consumption among 18th century lower-class Londoners
with the present-day notion that England is a culture drowning in
lager. However, Warner’s in depth knowledge of the many “gin
acts” and their accompanying rebellions and riots leaves little
doubt that it was gin and not beer that caused all the trouble
several centuries ago, and that for nearly a hundred years, gin threatened
to squeeze beer and other spirits out of the market altogether.
Not
that the decline of beer sales was the foremost concern of lawmakers
and enforcers. In a display of typical English classism, London’s
elite eventually sought to curtail gin consumption only because they
perceived that it threatened their source of cheap labor – cheap
wages were a crucial ingredient in keeping them rich and the working
class poor, and if the working class poor were busy being drunk on
gin they weren’t working hard and earning those cheap wages.
Less practically, lower-class drunkenness also offended the upper
classes’ sense of good taste. For their part, London’s
poor felt as though they were entitled to drink as much gin as they
pleased, so colorless were most other parts of their lives. They therefore
steadfastly refused to give it up, regardless of what lawmakers tried
to impose upon them.
Warner
begins her account with a bit of a gimmick: a cast of characters.
Indeed, the book is framed as if it were an 18th century play –
a ploy that was likely meant to bring the reader into the time and
essence of the story it tells, but which in actuality serves mostly
to make one feel as though she were reading an issue of McSweeney’s.
This stands in startling contrast to the text, which reads in a straightforward
and mostly earnest manner – certainly very readable, but a bit
confusing nonetheless. Why use the theatrical language in fruity chapter
titles if the tone is not to be carried out in the prose?
The
book, then, is divided into three “acts,” and it is in
the first of these that we learn how gin came to be the drink of choice
among London’s working classes. (It should be said that although
Warner touches on gin consumption in other parts of England, where
the “craze” took hold as well, the bulk of her attention
is rightly given to London, where the phenomenon really flourished.)
This became possible only when grain prices decreased significantly
due to surpluses, and the landowners who farmed grain thus sought
new markets for their harvests. This motivated distillers, who added
flavors and other modifications in order to make their gin more drinkable.
As imports began to be taxed more heavily, England’s masses
acquired their taste for domestic gin, or geneva, as it was originally
called.
What
makes such anecdotes interesting is the way in which they offer a
slice of what life was like in 18th century London. The book’s
strength is that it uses one small series of events to give readers
a wider glimpse into the inner workings of a time and place that can
otherwise be difficult to imagine. Warner impressively unearths, for
example, several stories of specific nights and specific people, and
she describes how gin affected specific areas of London. The only
drawback to these stories is Warner’s occasional tendency to
change directions, or even make two contradictory points, sometimes
in the course of a single paragraph. She opens one paragraph, for
example, by stating that “[t]he need for anonymity, in turn,
effectively barred informers from all towns except London.”
She then spends the majority of the paragraph recounting cases of
informers in other English cities. This doesn’t take too much
away from her engaging prose, but it does throw the reader off several
times over the course of the book.
The
final chapter of Craze, though, is an unqualified joy. In
it, Warner muses on the implications of the 18th century gin craze
on today’s culture -- although she seems to stick to current
American culture, even though the obvious comparison would be between
18th century and contemporary England, with its own version of archaic
drinking laws. Today's equivalent of polite society has taken
up arms against any number of mind-altering substances in an attempt
to keep the lower classes in their place. It is Warner’s belief
that more often than not the criticisms are unfounded, having more
to do with who takes the drug and what class of society they fall
into. One can’t help but wish that Warner had spent more time
on comparisons between 21st and 18th cultures and less time on the
intricacies of laws that have been dead for hundreds of years. It’s
one thing to know that there was a law concerning gin, and quite another
thing to know exactly how that law came to pass in Parliament, after
all. Unless you are a lawyer (and even then), such things are most
often better left merely summarized. Making the 18th century relevant
to contemporary life, on the other hand, is endlessly fascinating.
Warner
states on page four that the central theme of the book is “why
people worry at some times and not at others.” This seems to
sell the book short, as the “central theme” could be more
aptly described by saying that things never change; that the upper
classes will always look out for themselves at the expense of the
lower classes, that people will always drink to escape boredom and
pain, and that profit will always be a chief motivation for lawmakers.
It is in today’s America as it was in 18th century England.
In the case of Craze, it is through the eyes of geneva that
we are able to see as much.
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