When I Read About the Evils of Drinking, I Gave Up Reading
Everyday Drinking by Kingsley Amis / Ted Boynton
It is passing rare to find a cultural icon who owns up to a habit of which some might disapprove; even more difficult to find one who embraces potential approbation such that he becomes its standard-bearer through his professional endeavors. Kingsley Amis was an English novelist known primarily for fictional works such as Lucky Jim, as well as his identification with the 1960s British literary movement the Angry Young Men. Less well known is that Amis, over the course of his career, wrote numerous essays and short commentaries about the joys, rituals, and responsibilities of the boozing life. Amis’s works in this area have been collected in the anthology Everyday Drinking, named after one of his monographs on the topic, and the first time these works have been collected in one place.
Over the years I had read snippets of Amis’s musings on booze here and there, but absorbing them together provided a couple of insights. First, Everyday Drinking is simply an essential component of the dedicated drinker’s library. While glossy hipster cocktail manuals and ersatz authoritative guides on “mixology” — ugh, how I detest that word — are almost literally a dime a dozen in bookstore bargain bins, Amis accomplished something much more profound in intent and execution. The life’s work represented in Everyday Drinking signifies an old soul’s embrace of and dedication to a certain lifestyle and philosophy.
Please don’t misunderstand: Amis provides plenty of practical advice and wry commentary about the boozing lifestyle. Yet Everyday Drinking really should be approached more as a Book of Common Prayer for the sobriety-challenged, consisting of three works written by Amis between 1971 and 1984, the most prolific period of his career. Amis’s lynchpin monograph on the subject, titled simply On Drink, leads off, setting forth Amis’s well-considered thoughts on all areas of concern for the dedicated boozehound: correct preparation and storage, proper stocking of one’s home bar, equipment required for a successful boozer, how to deal with hangovers, and recommendations of other essential literature on the subject. Right off the bat, Amis establishes that he’s not fooling around when it comes to evaluating such an important aspect of human existence, positing that one’s philosophy on alcohol must be informed by the fact that conversation, laughter and alcohol are all three found in every human society, with alcohol playing a role in social interactions throughout recorded history. Well played, sir; all this time, I’ve just been telling the neighbors to fuck off.
The middle piece in the book is also the title piece. Everyday Drinking, which is itself a collection of Amis’s columns and short essays written for newspapers and magazines over the years, covers some of the same ground as On Drink, but set forth episodically. While On Drink works well as an extended read, Everyday Drinking is better suited to frequent picking-up and putting-down, not to be wolfed down in linear fashion, since its contents were originally produced as disparate columns for relatively quick consumption, not intended to cohere as an organized whole. The structure of this section of the book is interesting in itself, as one tracks the evolution of Amis’s ideas through writings that were originally spaced significantly apart, and prepared for readers who foot-tappingly awaited the arrival of the regular paper along with the post.
The third segment of Everyday Drinking is likely the least accessible for the modern reader, especially those outside Britain, but offers no obstacle to enjoying the overall enterprise. Amis wrote a series of quizzes for his readers, focusing in great detail on various aspects of brewing, distilling, and vinting during a time when quizzes and trivia challenges unified Britain against a post-Nazi threat: ignorance about anything that might someday show up on “Jeopardy.” The structure of this part of the book requires some patience, as quiz after quiz stacks up, followed by all the answers in another section. The information is intriguing, and if you have a high knowledge of alcohol trivia and a strong sense of self-esteem, knock yourself out. Even a devoted boozehound — ahem — will soon find himself humbled, however, so best to treat this third section as a sort of encyclopedic coda to the wealth of advice and opinion delivered before.
Throughout, Amis approaches his subject matter with a straight face but a keen wit, treating boozing with an appropriate level of gravity while at the same time keeping front and center a good humor about the whole endeavor. Hundreds of millions of people take a drink every day, or damn near, expending large quantities of resources on an activity that relaxes and de-stresses them, rendering them more suitable for interaction with others. Some of the less responsible among us (!) even use the stuff both to enhance entertainment experiences and to assist with artistic appreciation. All of which is to say that Amis properly views his subject as important, but not so important as to over-justify pretension or snootiness about the practice of imbibing in itself. Note, however, that there’s plenty of snootiness to be had here about the overall decline of society’s support mechanisms for the habit, from the introduction of loud music and bad food in pubs to the growing tolerance for outrages such as pina coladas. If you enjoy a good scolding about the decline of Western civilization as symbolized by the desecration of our Holy Church of Hooch, then Amis is your man.
As noted above, Amis comes across as somewhat prim and stuffy at times, a tone that must have been put-on to some degree, given his leftist background. With proper warning, the resulting effect is generally quite pleasing, as if a gruff, learned authority figure on a shared hobby is holding forth with rather more arched-eyebrow seriousness than either of you intends. Amis, the son of a working class clerk, became an Oxford scholar and distinguished himself as a professor, novelist, and poet. More to the point, Amis was a political radical in the 1950s, joining both the Communist Party and the post-War re-definition of British society. Staunchly opposed to the stiff pretention and rigorous classism of traditional English society, Amis’s work often applied a knife-edge of humor to the raw nerve of decomposing British social structure.
Without proper warning, on the other hand, Amis likely would present as the type of stuffed shirt he spent much of his career lampooning. I almost choked on my GiGi while reading Amis’s discussion of the theory that Scots learned to distill whisky from the twelfth-century Irish: “The idea of medieval Irishmen inventing a rather complicated technique like that of distilling, or anything at all for that matter, is hard to credit.” Ah, yes; what could be more progressive than questioning the basic empirical skills of people born a couple of hundred yards northwest? Indeed, one might well be put off by Amis’s routine sniffiness if one were not acquainted with Amis’s penchant for tweaking the knobs of stuffy twits who really, really care whether one’s father was a company clerk as opposed to some obscure, hemophiliac earl from Crotchgrabashire-on-Trousertrout.
It’s only fair to note, however, that the conservative tone of Everyday Drinking is clearly not always a put-on. Amis grew quite conservative during his life, ultimately becoming an informal advisor to Margaret Thatcher. It is difficult to sort out what proportion of his gruff dismissals of lowbrow culture spring from sincere curmudgeony. (I have it on good authority from highly placed sources inside the entirely fictional Ministry of Irish Distillation Initiatives (thanks, Paddy!) that Kingsley Amis was, in all likelihood, a total Thatcherite orc-tool. Ah, well.)
All of that said, viewing Amis’s personality through his ostensibly more frivolous writings provides a remarkable insight into the character of an already remarkable man. Amis was the subject of a well-justified memoir by Zachary Leader, The Life of Kingsley Amis (sneaky title!), including the personal and professional travails that led Amis deeper and deeper into the relief provided by his relaxing muse. Even a rudimentary knowledge of Amis’s life makes Everyday Drinking all the more enjoyable.
Everyday Drinking opens with a luxuriously familiar foreword by Christopher Hitchens which provides the pitch-perfect context to begin reading Amis’s work. As noted by Hitchens, “The plain fact is that [booze] makes other people, and indeed life itself, a good deal less boring.” With that philosophical underpinning, Everyday Drinking is a must-read for any serious drinker who fancies a scholarly approach to the habit and enjoys the holding forth of learned opinion about it.
Ted Boynton is a dedicated sot who would leave his barstool only to stalk Whit Stillman, if anyone could find Whit Stillman. Ted also manages to hold down a job and a wife, three hours each per day, whether they need it or not. Readers may scold, hector, admonish or taunt Ted by e-mailing him at thecarygrantrules@hotmail.com.
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Comments
When I Read About the Evils of Drinking, I Gave Up Reading
I must say Ted, this just may be one of my favorite titles for a post yet. Great review, I'm not sure this would be a book that would interest me, but my love of the liquor compells me to at least give it a try.
Posted by: Julie at July 3, 2008 12:03 PM
Kudos to you Ted! Amazon is slinging this book my way as we speak. Too bad it won't be here in time for a July 4th perusal with a snort of bourbon.
Read English, drink American.
Posted by: W.E.Coyote at July 3, 2008 12:05 PM
Great sugesstion, Ted. This sounds like kind of book that I should buy now but wait to read after I have graduated, faked my death to avoid paying off student loans, and found gainful employment. Then I will be able to fully appreciate the material and be able to apply his lessons to my own boozing, cash wise. And you best believe I am making some GiGi's tonight.
Posted by: jM at July 3, 2008 12:14 PM
As an alcoholic, thank you for reviewing this.
As an archivist, thank you for using the word "monograph" correctly. Truly you are a prince among men.
Posted by: courtney at July 3, 2008 12:17 PM
some obscure, hemophiliac earl from Crotchgrabashire-on-Trousertrout.
Absolutely classic. I will be picking up this tome posthaste and perusing it with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label at my elbow. (I am a pauper and cannot afford Blue.)
Posted by: Nicole at July 3, 2008 12:29 PM
I love the part about the "overall decline of society's support mechanisms for the habit". Back in my salad days behind the bar, I worked Fri-Mon nights. I recall the Sunday/Monday shifts for the sparkling conversation that springs naturally from lubricated smart people. Fridays and Saturdays, on the other hand, were cacophonous messes: sloppy people and near constant exhortations to Turn It Up!!! It was awful.
That said, Ted - Christopher Hitchens is an asshole. Whenever I read him, I think of that great line about people who call into sports talk shows: they're people you change barstools to avoid. I still want this book, and that's a testament to your review. Because typically the presence of Christopher Hitchens on anything makes me run screaming the other way.
Posted by: megbon at July 3, 2008 12:43 PM
I second Julie's love of that title; I may have to use it sometime. Is it from Amis?
I am ordering this book today, it'll be a great gift for my husband (read: great gift to myself with my husband's name on the tag).
Posted by: MO(meaux) at July 3, 2008 12:47 PM
I spotted this book at my local bookseller and promptly bought three copies, one for my favorite couple with whom to indulge, one for myself, and one to have on hand, for future gifting among my favorite tipplers.
Thanks for the review- and for making me so damn thirsty!
"Work is the curse of the drinking class." O.W.
Posted by: Architeuthis at July 3, 2008 12:53 PM
"The plain fact is that [booze] makes other people, and indeed life itself, a good deal less boring."
And yet few things are more boring than "experts" on topics most people know quite enough about to suit themselves....
Posted by: sansho1 at July 3, 2008 12:54 PM
"the growing tolerance for outrages such as pina coladas"- hear, hear.
I'm not quite sure how I ended up with a boyfriend who doesn't drink- there's no problem there, he just doesn't care for alcohol. But I don't mind, and he is a very cheerful designated driver. Works for me.
I just moved, and can't find a thing in my new house (it would probably help if I started unpacking). So far for the holiday I did find a bottle of rum, so I think I may make mojitos.
happy Fourth, everyone.
Posted by: nancy at July 3, 2008 1:24 PM
Does he address the greatest insult to drinking since the pina colada?
I speak, of course, about the alcoholic abortion known as the "appletini" - and any of it's horribly misnomered, non-martini ilk. I am willing to concede that it is a drink (though a fucking horrific one)... but it is NOT A MARTINI.
I'll stop before I'm consumed with rage.
Posted by: TK at July 3, 2008 1:31 PM
Funny thing. A copy of this book MAGICALLY appeared in my mailbox a while back. Hmmmmmmmmm.
I've only had opportunity to skim through it. My personal library has as of late expanded rather quickly, and I've been having a hard time keeping up. But upon skimming it, I felt I had learned quite a bit more about our dear Mr. Ted, peeking into his own soused mind.
Since soon and very soon the White Coat folks will force me into teetotalism, I look forward to living vicariously through this book. After my transplant, everyone should take time to drink one or a half dozen on my behalf.
Posted by: Alabamapink at July 3, 2008 1:31 PM
I've been lurking in these parts for many years now, and this review promted a comment and a tear in my eye. I have had long debates with close friends about whether a proper martini has gin or vodka (gin, else why would the other be called a vodka martini), the merits of single malt versus a blend and whether anything that comes from a blender or is served with tropical fruit can properly be called a drink (of course not). I believe I know where civilized people stand on these issues, but will thoroughly enjoy a new source for debates.
This book will soon be on my nightstand, and will be a gift for a close friend who grew up in London and shares my love of the beautiful rant, particularly when good booze is the topic.
Thank you.
Posted by: Tripp at July 3, 2008 1:38 PM
Hey, I like pina coladas! They taste like pineapple flavored mistakes.
Posted by: Julie at July 3, 2008 1:48 PM
I believe I ranted along with TK on an earlier post in regards to the martini imitators, but it bears repeating again: JUST BECAUSE IT'S IN A MARTINI GLASS DOESN'T MAKE IT A MARTINI. If I happen to have the Pope over for fondue, and the booze cabinet is bare, do I try to class up an otherwise blue-collar PBR by offering it up as a Beertini? FUCK. NO.
More than likely, I'd see if he could channel some of that "water into wine" mojo and if willing, "wine into Bushmills"...
Posted by: Skittimus Maximus at July 3, 2008 1:49 PM
TK, I don't believe in appletini's either. They taste like melted Jolly Ranchers. This is fine if you want to take advantage of a ten year old, but not if you actually want a goddamn alcoholic drink!
Posted by: jM at July 3, 2008 1:54 PM
I agree with you jM, appletinis taste like an alcoholic juice box with a splash of The Sex and City movie. Served in a stiletto.
They do remind me of Scrubs though, which makes me happy. "I'll have an appletini, extra tini."
Posted by: Julie at July 3, 2008 2:02 PM
appletinis taste like an alcoholic juice box with a splash of The Sex and City movie. Served in a stiletto.
HA...ewww...true.
Posted by: jM at July 3, 2008 2:10 PM
Dear Godtopus, I love this place. (and Julie, I've tasted those pineapple-flavored mistakes as well.... shudder).
I toast you all with a deliciously American Kentucky Bourbon (on the rocks - it's summer, dammit, and Ohio is hot as hell) and a wish for all your afternoons to be filled with controlled explosions, less controlled alcohol consumption, and a continued moratorium on procedural cop shows, Paul Haggis, and anything that comes out of Rainbow Killer's gaping maw.
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!
Posted by: Tammy at July 3, 2008 2:19 PM
Yes, I think we were the Three Amigos of "that's not a martini". Peeve of mine. But how can a Pina Colada be considered a mistake? If its origin was then it's a brilliant one.
Incidentally, if you don't have/can't mix the actual mix, just mix rum and pineapple juice. In a pinch it's still grand.
Posted by: Jay at July 3, 2008 2:25 PM
Jay my best friend (whose name is also Jay, how fun) and I are making pina coladas tomorrow, and he always adds a can of chopped pineapple to the blender. It is tasty and delicious, and will fully compliment my pasta salad and taco dip.
Posted by: Julie at July 3, 2008 2:46 PM
Rum and Pineapple juice is fucking delicious, and I'll fight anyone who disagrees.
Pina Coladas, however, taste like sunscreen mixed with gasoline. They are are vile and I don't believe in them.
Posted by: TK at July 3, 2008 4:43 PM
Beertinis: stirred, not shaken.
That's what His Holiness always says.
Posted by: Wednesday at July 3, 2008 8:50 PM
Rum and pineapple juice is delicious. So is chocolate cake. But it's not a drink anymore than PBR in a martini glass is a martini or pouring Mad Dog 20/20 into a crystal bordeaux glass makes one an oenophile. I'm not disparaging PBR, rum and pineapple (I am disparaging Pina Coladas, however, and if you ever order one in a bar it probably was made with mystery fluids in place of alcohol).
In Pajiba terms, you might have fun being silly and watching Get Shorty, but it will never be Goodfellas or The Godfather and it is important to recognize the difference. It appears that Mr. Amis recognizes that difference, as I suspect do right-thinking Pajibans.
Posted by: Tripp at July 3, 2008 9:44 PM
I vote that a capchas (sp?) system be introduced. We were just mass-spammed. I think every comment thread on the front page got hit.
Posted by: the_wakeful at July 3, 2008 11:36 PM
Ah, but this spambot sounds charmingly wistful. ("Is it ture? Are you still there?" ...Delightful.)
Come on, Boynton, don't be modest. Are you really a certified millionaire? Show us those nice photos!
Posted by: MO(meaux) at July 4, 2008 7:24 AM
I heard this news earlier at """""""C e l e b C u p i d.c o m"""""" where celebrities and rich people are talking about this at forum of that site. It's said Charlie Sheen has found his perfect match there at"""""C e l e b C u p i d.c o m""""""
Posted by: Lindsay at July 4, 2008 5:50 PM
Reading this kind of twaddle makes me just a tad misty for days gone by...before I came to the realization that I had used up my full life's drinking credits by age 40 I entertained notions of writing a book not unlike this one. Right up to the end I clung to a Grant-ian and Bogart-ian vision of myself as a boozy, romantic ne'er-do-well who could navigate the wine list with aplomb and whose only use for vermouth was in cooking while sipping a Boodles martini. Damn it, I drank with too much class to wind up like this!
Only there's nothing classy about drowning in cheap soju from the 7-11 in a Tokyo hotel room (7-11 is BIG in Japan) because there isn't enough "good stuff" in the mini-bar, or showing up at rehab reeking from a dozen Mike's Hard Lemonades because that was the most palatable option from the inventory at the corner mini-mart that was within staggering distance of the house. Because seriously, who shows up for rehab sober?
Oh, and thanks for the kind words on the other boozy thread, MO(meaux)!
Posted by: Grover at July 4, 2008 9:01 PM
Keep your pomegranatinis and your penis alottas, thank you. bucdaddy drinks beer. American beer. American microbrewed beer. In bucdaddy's beer fridge: Victory. Dogfish Head. Flying Dog. Stone. Pyramid. Avery. Yuengling. Clipper City.
bucdaddy makes one exception, and one exception only: Jack Daniel's. Old No. 7.
Posted by: bucdaddy at July 5, 2008 7:14 PM
Cheers, Grover; I'm married to a physics guy, so I do have a certain affection for a cool voice of reason!
Heh, and from your comment above, it sounds like you do have some stories to tell, if not exactly what you'd envisioned back in the day....
Posted by: MO(meaux) at July 5, 2008 8:36 PM