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    Confessions of an English Opium Eater
    Confessions of an English Opium Eater
    Confessions of an English Opium Eater
    Ebook135 pages2 hours

    Confessions of an English Opium Eater

    By Thomas De Quincey

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    About this ebook

    "Opium! Dread agent of unimaginable pleasure and pain!"

    A masterful memoir about addiction, Thomas De Quincey's Confessions is a literary tour-de-force and intimate portrayal of an opium eater's inner struggle. Written in poetic language that conveys the seductive power of the drug, this page-turning account pieces together an addict's highs and lows. It is both an imaginative description of opium-induced reverie and an urgent attempt to convey the dangers of dependency. The mind of an addict has never been captured so eloquently.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArcturus Publishing
    Release dateFeb 11, 2019
    ISBN9781789506440
    Author

    Thomas De Quincey

    Thomas De Quincey was born in Manchester in 1785. Highly intelligent but with a rebellious spirit, he was offered a place at Oxford University while still a student at Manchester Grammar School. But unwilling to complete his studies, he ran away and lived on the streets, first in Wales and then in London. Eventually he returned home and took up his place at Oxford, but quit before completing his degree. A friend of Coleridge and Wordsworth, he eventually settled in Grasmere in the Lake District and worked as a journalist. He first wrote about his opium experiences in essays for The London Magazine, and these were printed in book form in 1822. De Quincey died in 1859.

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    Reviews for Confessions of an English Opium Eater

    3.5/5

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    • 4/5
      A good attempt to write an honest account of what it is like to live as a Male Lifelong Opium Eater; that is in drops of Red Poison Tincture gotten from the Chemist, whose first use was to relieve the pain of toothache.
      Da Quincey is less inclined to open his heart as to the negative effects of Opium which he defends to the end and even tries to take himself off it- a difficult exercise which leads to much suffering which he details in his book.
      The Author is nomadic, homeless (what you would get today), independent, suffering the full effect of uninhibited memory release as a result of the Opium.
      When he tries to come off it as if Memories buried beneath the fog of the drug come to the surface.
      A very interesting book and one of many I am reading into the lives of those who are addicted.
    • 4/5
      This is the autobiography of Thomas de Quincey, a 19th century intellectual who indulged in opium use for a large proportion of his life. The book only gets onto the opium after half way through, and spends a while detailing his childhood and younger years. Smaller sections toward the end give account of the pleasures and pains of opium, and are just as interesting to read as the earlier parts. What is distinctive of this book is the apparent candor with which the author writes, the details of his thoughts and feelings through the various times in his life, and his observations on human nature. This is as much a view onto life in the period as it is a view onto the life of Quincey, and as it also contains his views of literary contemporaries, it should be of interest to fans of literature of this time.
    • 1/5
      i found this book to be very dry and difficult to get through
    • 3/5
      Back in the 19th century Erowid trip reports featured a lot more orientalism and bragging about how much Ancient Greek you knew but were otherwise essentially as we know them now.

    Book preview

    Confessions of an English Opium Eater - Thomas De Quincey

    Confessions of an English Opium Eater

    Thomas De Quincey

    Contents

    Introduction

    Part I

    To The Reader

    Preliminary Confessions

    Part II

    The Pleasures of Opium

    Introduction to The Pains of Opium

    The Pains Of Opium

    Appendix

    Introduction

    Thomas De Quincey, English essayist and critic, was born on 15 August 1785 in Manchester, Lancashire. Born into a wealthy merchant family, his father died when De Quincey was young, making him a sensitive child who spent much of his time alone. His mother was an intelligent, albeit strict, woman who transferred De Quincey to an inferior school in Wiltshire out of fear of him becoming conceited. It was there that he first read and admired the lyrical ballads of William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, which ignited his love of writing.

    While he showed promise during his later education at Manchester Grammar School, De Quincey ran away in 1802, making his way to Chester, then to Wales and on to London. After a period of solitude and starvation, he reconnected with his family in 1803 and enrolled at Worcester College, Oxford with newfound determination to become ‘the intellectual benefactor of mankind’. He became well read on numerous subjects, such as history, economics, psychology and literature.

    Unfortunately, only a year later, an extreme case of facial neuralgia plagued De Quincey, forcing him to take his first opium to relieve the pain. He could not have foreseen how much it would influence his life.

    It did not take long for De Quincey to become wholeheartedly devoted to the drug. By 1813, he was ‘a regular and confirmed opium-eater’ and he kept a personal supply on him at all times. Even after he married Margaret Simpson in 1816, he could not abandon the drug.

    While he continued to write essays and worked as a journalist, De Quincey published little of note until his magnum opus, Confessions of an English Opium-Eater. First serialised in the London Magazine of 1821, it was reprinted in book form a year later. The work was an intricately woven masterpiece, displaying De Quincey’s eloquent prose, poetic aptitude, journalistic approach and astounding intelligence. The true purpose of Confessions was to warn readers of the dangers of opium and reveal its evil nature as told from a first-person perspective. But what makes this personal experience with opium so fascinating is the contradictory pleasure De Quincey admits he could obtain only from opium, providing readers with a thought-provoking battle between euphoria and freedom.

    Despite reducing his dependence on the drug, his opium addiction led to many health problems and De Quincey died on 8 December, 1859 in Edinburgh. His literary achievement survived well beyond his time, inspiring many, including Edgar Allan Poe, and this seminal work spawned a genre of ‘addiction literature’ that became popular throughout the West.

    PART 1

    From the London Magazine for September 1821.

    To The Reader

    I here present you, courteous reader, with the record of a remarkable period in my life: according to my application of it, I trust that it will prove not merely an interesting record, but in a considerable degree useful and instructive. In that hope it is that I have drawn it up; and that must be my apology for breaking through that delicate and honourable reserve which, for the most part, restrains us from the public exposure of our own errors and infirmities. Nothing, indeed, is more revolting to English feel­-ings than the spectacle of a human being obtruding on our notice his moral ulcers or scars, and tearing away that ‘decent drapery’ which time or indulgence to human frailty may have drawn over them; accordingly, the greater part of our confessions (that is, spontaneous and extra-judicial confessions) proceed from demireps, adventurers, or swindlers: and for any such acts of gratuitous self-humiliation from those who can be supposed in sympathy with the decent and self-respecting part of society, we must look to French literature, or to that part of the German which is tainted with the spurious and defective sensibility of the French. All this I feel so forcibly, and so nervously am I alive to reproach of this tendency, that I have for many months hesitated about the propriety of allowing this or any part of my narrative to come before the public eye until after my death (when, for many reasons, the whole will be published); and it is not without an anxious review of the reasons for and against this step that I have at last concluded on taking it.

    Guilt and misery shrink, by a natural instinct, from public notice: they court privacy and solitude: and even in their choice of a grave will sometimes sequester themselves from the general population of the churchyard, as if declining to claim fellowship with the great family of man, and wishing (in the affecting language of Mr. Wordsworth)

    Humbly to express

    A penitential loneliness.

    It is well, upon the whole, and for the interest of us all, that it should be so: nor would I willingly in my own person manifest a disregard of such salutary feelings, nor in act or word do anything to weaken them; but, on the one hand, as my self-accusation does not amount to a confession of guilt, so, on the other, it is possible that, if it did, the benefit resulting to others from the record of an experience purchased at so heavy a price might compensate, by a vast overbalance, for any violence done to the feelings I have noticed, and justify a breach of the general rule. Infirmity and misery do not of necessity imply guilt. They approach or recede from shades of that dark alliance, in proportion to the probable motives and prospects of the offender, and the palliations, known or secret, of the offence; in proportion as the temptations to it were potent from the first, and the resistance to it, in act or in effort, was earnest to the last. For my own part, without breach of truth or modesty, I may affirm that my life has been, on the whole, the life of a philosopher: from my birth I was made an intellectual creature, and intellectual in the highest sense my pursuits and pleasures have been, even from my schoolboy days. If opium-eating be a sensual pleasure, and if I am bound to confess that I have indulged in it to an excess not yet recorded¹ of any other man, it is no less true that I have struggled against this fascinating enthralment with a religious zeal, and have at length accomplished what I never yet heard attributed to any other man – have untwisted, almost to its final links, the accursed chain which fettered me. Such a self-conquest may reasonably be set off in counterbalance to any kind or degree of self-indulgence. Not to insist that in my case the self-conquest was unquestionable, the self-indulgence open to doubts of casuistry, according as that name shall be extended to acts aiming at the bare relief of pain, or shall be restricted to such as aim at the excitement of positive pleasure.

    Guilt, therefore, I do not acknowledge; and if I did, it is possible that I might still resolve on the present act of confession in consideration of the service which I may thereby render to the whole class of opium-eaters. But who are they? Reader, I am sorry to say a very numerous class indeed. Of this I became convinced some years ago by computing at that time the number of those in one small class of English society (the class of men distinguished for talents, or of eminent station) who were known to me, directly or indirectly, as opium-eaters; such, for instance, as the eloquent and benevolent —, the late Dean of —, Lord —, Mr. — the philosopher, a late Under-Secretary of State (who described to me the sensation which first drove him to the use of opium in the very same words as the Dean of —, viz., ‘that he felt as though rats were gnawing and abrading the coats of his stomach’), Mr. —, and many others hardly less known, whom it would be tedious to mention. Now, if one class, comparatively so limited, could furnish so many scores of cases (and that within the knowledge of one single inquirer), it was a natural inference that the entire population of England would furnish a proportionable number. The soundness of this inference, however, I doubted, until some facts became known to me which satisfied me that it was not incorrect. I will mention two. (1) Three respectable London druggists, in widely remote quarters of London, from whom I happened lately to be purchasing small quantities of opium, assured me that the number of amateur opium-eaters (as I may term them) was at this time immense; and that the difficulty of distinguishing those persons to whom habit had rendered opium necessary from such as were purchasing it with a view to suicide, occasioned them daily trouble and disputes. This evidence respected London only. But (2) – which will possibly surprise the reader more – some years ago, on passing through Manchester, I was informed by several cotton manufacturers that their workpeople were rapidly getting into the practice of opium-eating; so much so, that on a Saturday afternoon the counters of the druggists were strewed with pills of one, two, or three grains, in preparation for the known demand of the evening. The immediate occasion of this practice was the lowness of wages, which at that time would not allow them to indulge in ale or spirits, and wages rising, it may be thought that this practice would cease; but as I do not readily believe that any man having once tasted the divine luxuries of opium will afterwards descend to the gross and mortal enjoyments of alcohol, I take it for granted,

    That those eat now who never ate before;

    And those who always ate, now eat the more.

    Indeed, the fascinating powers of opium are admitted even by medical writers, who are its greatest enemies. Thus, for instance, Awsiter, apothecary to Greenwich Hospital, in his ‘Essay on the Effects of Opium’ (published in the year 1763), when attempting to explain why Mead had not been sufficiently explicit on the properties, counteragents, &c., of this drug, expresses himself in the following mysterious terms (φωναντα συνετοισι): ‘Perhaps he thought the subject of too delicate a nature to be made common; and as many people might then indiscriminately use it, it would take from that necessary fear and caution which should prevent their experiencing the extensive power of this drug, for there are many properties in it, if universally known, that would habituate the use, and make it more in request with us than with Turks themselves; the result of which knowledge,’ he adds, ‘must prove a general misfortune.’ In the necessity of this conclusion I do not altogether concur; but upon that point I shall have occasion to speak at the close of my confessions, where I shall present the reader with the moral of my narrative.

    1. "Not yet recorded," I say; for there is one celebrated man of the present day, who, if all be true which is reported of him, has greatly exceeded me in quantity.

    Preliminary Confessions

    These preliminary confessions, or introductory narrative of the youthful adventures which laid the foundation of the writer’s habit of opium-eating in after-life, it has been judged proper to premise, for three several reasons:

    1. As forestalling that question, and giving it a satisfactory answer, which else would painfully obtrude itself in the course of the Opium-Confessions – ‘How came any reasonable being to subject himself to such a yoke of misery; voluntarily to incur a captivity so

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