Readers of this book will need a strong black coffee by the end. It’s not just the oceanic vats of booze consumed by its subjects that will make your head spin; the cures and pick-me-ups on which they rely are equally alarming. Such as Anthony Burgess’s favorite, Hangman’s Blood: “Into a pint glass doubles of the following are poured: gin, whisky, rum, port and brandy. A small bottle of stout is added and the whole topped up with champagne or champagne-surrogate. It tastes very smooth, induces a somewhat metaphysical elation, and rarely leaves a hangover.”
A similarly omnibibulous approach is taken by Sasha, the fictional alter ego of Jean Rhys in Good Morning, Midnight, who cries: “I’ve had enough of thinking, enough of remembering. Now whisky, rum, gin, sherry, vermouth, wine with the bottles labelled ‘Dum vivimus vivamus’ [‘While we live, let us live’] … Drink, drink, drink … As soon as I sober up I start again.” But when it comes to extreme consumption, even Rhys is eclipsed by Malcolm Lowry, author of Under the Volcano. “He would drink anything,” his wife wrote. “Tequila, mescal, whisky, gin, beer, rubbing alcohol, after-shave lotion and hair tonic.”
