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Better Together
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With personages from Khun Sa to Coleridge to Kurt Cobain populating its far-ranging pages, Opium: A History provides a comprehensive look at the drug as it's been used, abused, fought over, and profited from throughout the millennia. In all likelihood, one of the first medicinal drugs known to mankind, opium and its derivatives have eased and caused suffering in almost equal measure, a fact that the evenhanded Booth takes pains to point out. In fact, he quotes rock musician Frank Zappa with approbation: "A drug is neither moral nor immoral--it's a chemical compound. The compound itself is not a menace to society until a human being treats it as if consumption bestowed a temporary license to act like an asshole." Booth's book traces opium's history from the first evidence of poppy cultivation (possibly as early as 4,000 B.C.) to the drug wars of today, exploring its uses in different cultures, its roles in British and Chinese political affairs, its use by artists and musicians, and its horrifying ramifications for addicts.
Booth writes with admirable attention to detail, if very little élan. Plowing through some of his sentences is a little like chewing on a mouthful of sawdust: "There are several reasons suggested for the popularity of the hypodermic but the primary one is the lowering standard of heroin purity caused by the success of legislation on production and by the selling methods employed by Italians who took over distribution from Jewish gangs, leading to an increase in price and higher levels of adulteration." It's enough to drive a reader to drugs. Nonetheless, the power of his narrative can't be entirely erased by the unwieldiness of his prose. The book is filled with striking images and surprising facts--for instance, opium-addicted Victorian children, fed "soothing syrups" by minders to keep them quiet. Undernourished, yellow-skinned, in the words of one contemporary observer, they "shrank up into little old men or wizened like a little monkey." In the end, Booth finds few answers to the problems posed by the opium trade--a scourge he says has "destroyed millions of lives, enslaved whole cultures and invidiously corrupted human society to its very core." In writing this exhaustively researched history, however, Booth brings us that much closer to understanding--and thereby conquering--the most tenacious of human addictions. --Mary Park
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Publishers Weekly
A novelist (Hiroshima Joe) and nonfiction writer (Opium: A History), Booth is a British author too little known here. This very strong book, shortlisted for the Booker Prize last year, should introduce him to discriminating readers. As in Hiroshima Joe, the hero is an ordinary man thrust into a forgotten corner of history, who becomes a player in an extraordinary situation. Alexander Bayliss was a British businessman on a visit to the Soviet Union in the 1950s when he was arrested as a spy and sent into the Siberian gulag. Now, on his 80th birthday, he has become a cherished fixture in the tiny Russian village where he went to live after his release with the daughter of one of his dear companions of the gulag, who had died in a mining accident. Known to the peasants as Shurik, he has been the village schoolteacher, an angel of enlightenment who has helped open the eyes of some of the local children to a wider world. But his identity has at last been discovered; the British Embassy in Moscow has sent a car, and a long-forgotten cousin is on his way to meet him. Shurik/Bayliss must decide: what is he to do with what remains of his life? The book is at once a poignantly lyrical portrait of his life in Myshkino (as if the Russian countryside in summer were seen through the eyes of an English nature poet) and a harrowing account of his life as a zekAone of the countless thousands of political prisoners who toiled in inhumanly brutal conditions in the Arctic wastes. That life also brought undying comradeship of a kind that makes conventional friendships seem tame, and in one unforgettable scene Bayliss has to make a terrible choice for his dearest friend. In another indelible passage, his little crew is sent to uncover a woolly mammoth long frozen in the ice. Through it all, Bayliss is a model of modest goodness and tenderness, one of the most lovable creations in recent fiction. His story is at once horrifying and deeply affecting, a paean to what is eternal in the Russian spiritAand the work of a sharp-eyed humanist whose powers are at full stretch. (Oct.)
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
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