News (Media Awareness Project) - US DC: Book Review: This Magic Mushroom Moment |
Title: | US DC: Book Review: This Magic Mushroom Moment |
Published On: | 2007-04-01 |
Source: | Washington Times (DC) |
Fetched On: | 2008-01-12 09:14:11 |
THIS MAGIC MUSHROOM MOMENT
Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom, By Andy Letcher,
HarperCollins, $25.95, 360 pages
Not long ago, at a party in Amsterdam, I was about to swallow some
psilocybin mushrooms when the host interceded. Dividing the pieces
into two piles, he twirled a small metal ball hanging from a thin
chain above each, dangled the same "dowsing" device over my hand, and
after some contemplation pointed me to the pile that was right for
me. He also predicted, using amazingly precise but unverifiable
numbers, exactly how the mushrooms would affect me along several
different personality dimensions. This ceremony, akin to an
unsolicited palm, aura or astrological chart reading, did not enhance
my mushroom experience.
If you, like me, prefer your shrooms without the New Age baggage,
Andy Letcher's book is for you. In "Shroom: A Cultural History of the
Magic Mushroom," Mr. Letcher, a British writer and musician with a
doctorate in ecology and another in religious/cultural studies, is
careful to separate the truth about his subject from a "fantastical
history . . . dreamed up on the basis of wishful thinking and
overworked evidence."
Without dismissing the potential for mushroom-assisted mystical
experiences (a phenomenon explored in a government-funded study by
researchers at Johns Hopkins University that made headlines last
year), Mr. Letcher rejects the idea that psychoactive fungi
inevitably lead people in a specific spiritual or ideological
direction. At the same time, he scolds politicians for overreacting
to a practice that poses minimal risks and brings much-needed
"enchantment" to quotidian life.
Mr. Letcher emphasizes that the significance of mushrooming, like
that of other drug experiences, is "culturally contingent." In the
1960s, Americans and Europeans began to seek an experience they had
until then equated with poisoning, reinterpreting effects that were
once treated as signs of insanity or imminent death as an opportunity
to explore inner worlds and see the outer one in a new light. Mr.
Letcher's witty, entertaining and surprising book tells the story of
how this happened, chronicling the contributions of explorers,
naturalists, mycologists, philosophers, authors, charlatans, rock
musicians and psychedelic visionaries.
Some of the facts Mr. Letcher confirms are at least as strange as the
legends he debunks. Siberians, for instance, really do have a history
of consuming fly-agaric mushrooms not only directly but also
"distilled via human kidneys." Mr. Letcher speculates that they
discovered the psychoactive properties of the mushroom itself, and of
the urine excreted by people who have eaten it, by observing the
antics of reindeer. In the winter, the animals supplement their
meager diet of lichen by lapping up human urine, presumably for its
mineral content.
In addition to the Siberian example, which goes back centuries at
least, and there is substantial archeological evidence that
psilocybin mushroom use in Mexico and Central America, observed by
Europeans at the time of the Spanish conquest, has been going on for
thousands of years. Mr. Letcher notes that both the Siberians and the
Aztecs used psychoactive mushrooms recreationally as well as for
healing and prognostication.
But Mr. Letcher finds little or no evidence to support most of the
too-good-to-check claims about the role of intoxicating mushrooms in
human history. Do experiences with the fly-agaric mushroom lie behind
the legend of Santa Claus and his flying reindeer? Did witches,
Druids and whoever built Stonehenge partake? Was a fungus at the
heart of early Christianity, Vedic soma rituals and the Eleusinian
mysteries of ancient Greece? Did prehistoric use of psilocybin
mushrooms give birth to religion? Probably not, Mr. Letcher
concludes, although in many cases the answer is unknowable.
Given the fly-agaric mushroom's unpredictable psychoactivity and its
unpleasant side effects (including nausea and twitching), it is
remarkable that it figures so prominently in speculation of this
sort, not to mention in children's stories such as "Alice's
Adventures in Wonderland" and fantasy writing for adults. Mr. Letcher
suggests the fly-agaric's fictional popularity can be traced largely
to its distinctive appearance: red with white spots in a classic
toadstool shape, perfect for fairy tale illustrations. The more
user-friendly psilocybin mushrooms, which come from several species
and take various shapes, do not have the same iconic form.
The main conclusion Mr. Letcher draws after sorting fact from fancy
is that deliberate use of psychoactive mushrooms by Westerners is a
phenomenon of the last half century. He argues that stories about
ancient and momentous mushroom use can be understood mainly as
attempts to validate a modern practice by giving it deep religious
roots. In reality, he says, now is the magic mushroom moment, not
some vaguely remembered time when a fungus-centered society lived in
harmony with nature because it drew wisdom from a psychoactive sacrament.
It may be true that magic mushrooms have never been more popular, but
they remain a distinctly minority taste. Even in Amsterdam, where
psilocybin mushrooms are available over the counter in "smart shops,"
a 2001 survey found that less than 8 percent of the population had
ever tried them, while only 0.3 percent had used them in the previous
month. The risks this small minority runs, which include bad trips,
accidents and exacerbation of pre-existing psychological problems,
hardly seem to justify the costs of prohibition.
In fact, as Mr. Letcher notes, prohibition tends to increase the
hazards to users by forcing them to rely on the black market,
encouraging potentially deadly amateur mushroom hunting and creating
negative associations that make bad trips more likely. Around the
time Mr. Letcher wrapped up his book, the British government closed a
drug law loophole that had allowed possession and sale of fresh
psilocybin mushrooms, a move he describes as "motivated more by
political concerns than by any sensible assessment of the evidence."
A Labor Party M.P. objected to the hastily imposed ban. "We cannot
make nature illegal," he said. "Magic mushrooms are part of the
natural world. Some might describe them as a gift from God." If that
sentiment sounds naive, how should we describe the attempt to purge
the world of chemicals that produce politically incorrect states of
consciousness, including chemicals contained in mushrooms that
spontaneously pop up on cow patties and rotting wood all over the
world? The mushrooms may not have magical powers, but neither do the
prohibitionists.
Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom, By Andy Letcher,
HarperCollins, $25.95, 360 pages
Not long ago, at a party in Amsterdam, I was about to swallow some
psilocybin mushrooms when the host interceded. Dividing the pieces
into two piles, he twirled a small metal ball hanging from a thin
chain above each, dangled the same "dowsing" device over my hand, and
after some contemplation pointed me to the pile that was right for
me. He also predicted, using amazingly precise but unverifiable
numbers, exactly how the mushrooms would affect me along several
different personality dimensions. This ceremony, akin to an
unsolicited palm, aura or astrological chart reading, did not enhance
my mushroom experience.
If you, like me, prefer your shrooms without the New Age baggage,
Andy Letcher's book is for you. In "Shroom: A Cultural History of the
Magic Mushroom," Mr. Letcher, a British writer and musician with a
doctorate in ecology and another in religious/cultural studies, is
careful to separate the truth about his subject from a "fantastical
history . . . dreamed up on the basis of wishful thinking and
overworked evidence."
Without dismissing the potential for mushroom-assisted mystical
experiences (a phenomenon explored in a government-funded study by
researchers at Johns Hopkins University that made headlines last
year), Mr. Letcher rejects the idea that psychoactive fungi
inevitably lead people in a specific spiritual or ideological
direction. At the same time, he scolds politicians for overreacting
to a practice that poses minimal risks and brings much-needed
"enchantment" to quotidian life.
Mr. Letcher emphasizes that the significance of mushrooming, like
that of other drug experiences, is "culturally contingent." In the
1960s, Americans and Europeans began to seek an experience they had
until then equated with poisoning, reinterpreting effects that were
once treated as signs of insanity or imminent death as an opportunity
to explore inner worlds and see the outer one in a new light. Mr.
Letcher's witty, entertaining and surprising book tells the story of
how this happened, chronicling the contributions of explorers,
naturalists, mycologists, philosophers, authors, charlatans, rock
musicians and psychedelic visionaries.
Some of the facts Mr. Letcher confirms are at least as strange as the
legends he debunks. Siberians, for instance, really do have a history
of consuming fly-agaric mushrooms not only directly but also
"distilled via human kidneys." Mr. Letcher speculates that they
discovered the psychoactive properties of the mushroom itself, and of
the urine excreted by people who have eaten it, by observing the
antics of reindeer. In the winter, the animals supplement their
meager diet of lichen by lapping up human urine, presumably for its
mineral content.
In addition to the Siberian example, which goes back centuries at
least, and there is substantial archeological evidence that
psilocybin mushroom use in Mexico and Central America, observed by
Europeans at the time of the Spanish conquest, has been going on for
thousands of years. Mr. Letcher notes that both the Siberians and the
Aztecs used psychoactive mushrooms recreationally as well as for
healing and prognostication.
But Mr. Letcher finds little or no evidence to support most of the
too-good-to-check claims about the role of intoxicating mushrooms in
human history. Do experiences with the fly-agaric mushroom lie behind
the legend of Santa Claus and his flying reindeer? Did witches,
Druids and whoever built Stonehenge partake? Was a fungus at the
heart of early Christianity, Vedic soma rituals and the Eleusinian
mysteries of ancient Greece? Did prehistoric use of psilocybin
mushrooms give birth to religion? Probably not, Mr. Letcher
concludes, although in many cases the answer is unknowable.
Given the fly-agaric mushroom's unpredictable psychoactivity and its
unpleasant side effects (including nausea and twitching), it is
remarkable that it figures so prominently in speculation of this
sort, not to mention in children's stories such as "Alice's
Adventures in Wonderland" and fantasy writing for adults. Mr. Letcher
suggests the fly-agaric's fictional popularity can be traced largely
to its distinctive appearance: red with white spots in a classic
toadstool shape, perfect for fairy tale illustrations. The more
user-friendly psilocybin mushrooms, which come from several species
and take various shapes, do not have the same iconic form.
The main conclusion Mr. Letcher draws after sorting fact from fancy
is that deliberate use of psychoactive mushrooms by Westerners is a
phenomenon of the last half century. He argues that stories about
ancient and momentous mushroom use can be understood mainly as
attempts to validate a modern practice by giving it deep religious
roots. In reality, he says, now is the magic mushroom moment, not
some vaguely remembered time when a fungus-centered society lived in
harmony with nature because it drew wisdom from a psychoactive sacrament.
It may be true that magic mushrooms have never been more popular, but
they remain a distinctly minority taste. Even in Amsterdam, where
psilocybin mushrooms are available over the counter in "smart shops,"
a 2001 survey found that less than 8 percent of the population had
ever tried them, while only 0.3 percent had used them in the previous
month. The risks this small minority runs, which include bad trips,
accidents and exacerbation of pre-existing psychological problems,
hardly seem to justify the costs of prohibition.
In fact, as Mr. Letcher notes, prohibition tends to increase the
hazards to users by forcing them to rely on the black market,
encouraging potentially deadly amateur mushroom hunting and creating
negative associations that make bad trips more likely. Around the
time Mr. Letcher wrapped up his book, the British government closed a
drug law loophole that had allowed possession and sale of fresh
psilocybin mushrooms, a move he describes as "motivated more by
political concerns than by any sensible assessment of the evidence."
A Labor Party M.P. objected to the hastily imposed ban. "We cannot
make nature illegal," he said. "Magic mushrooms are part of the
natural world. Some might describe them as a gift from God." If that
sentiment sounds naive, how should we describe the attempt to purge
the world of chemicals that produce politically incorrect states of
consciousness, including chemicals contained in mushrooms that
spontaneously pop up on cow patties and rotting wood all over the
world? The mushrooms may not have magical powers, but neither do the
prohibitionists.
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