The Hasheesh Eater

What with the recent legalization of marijuana in Colorado and Washington, and the increasing likelihood that other states will do the same, it might be a good time to review a major work on a related topic, dating from the mid 1800s, by Fitz Hugh Ludlow, The Hasheesh Eater (Annotated).   Reading his work gives us a vicarious experience without actually partaking of the drug(s), although filtered through Ludlow, the book itself is somewhat of an experience.   Thus, hopefully my readers will forgive me if I adopt Ludlow’s ponderous prose to address this topic.

Who was this man, Ludlow?   He was an American (1836-1870) who lived in New York state.  He went to Union College in Schenectady, New York (northwest of Albany), wrote their “fight song”, and is still mentioned on their virtual presence.  Judging by his appearance in photographs, were he to be portrayed in a modern film, I would suggest that Jared Leto do the job.  In 1857 he published this book, which chronicles his hashish consumption, habit, withdrawal, etc.   Some experiences take place in Poughkeepsie, some in Schenectady, and some in New York City.  However, the NYC he saw bears more resemblance to the depiction with DiCaprio and Lewis, or the London of Dickens, than that of Douglas & Sheen, or the Seinfeld Quartet. 

I read the book in annotated format, meaning a modern writer, Gross, made little footnotes addressing some esoteric topics which Ludlow and his contemporaries would take for granted, yet those of us in the twenty-first century would draw complete blanks on.  The same writer also compiled a Companion.  This includes Ludlow’s later writings on the topic of opium, to which he became addicted after abandoning hashish – surely, out of the metal skillet into the flame over which it hovers – and de Quincey’s Confessions of an Opium Eater, which served to inspire Ludlow to give us his own story, and both are equally tedious and ponderous with too much explanation of things which have absolutely nothing to do with hashish or opium.

Attempting to avoid the same vice, I share: what did Ludlow experience?  The cannabis adventurer of a Dickensian context and demeanor, describes a vast and deep journey into visions, hallucinations, and dreams.  Fantastic landscapes, exotic locales, plunges into the depths of Hell and ascendency into the skies of Heaven, even disembodied voices of both regions loudly barking either praise or condemnation for his audacity to sample the pleasures out of the ordinary mien of mere mortals.  His own source of inspiration was the literature and stories available to him, obviously including Milton and Dante.   Unfortunately for him, no recorded music existed at that time.  To experience such, a music lover would have to consult sheet music and produce the music himself on an instrument, or attend a classical concert or opera at a major concert hall in a large city.  Nor, of course, were moving pictures even conceived of at that time.

It may not be too ambitious of me to suggest that a contemporary adventurer, equipped with a like amount of hasheesh, could be transported to Middle Earth, Hogwarts, or Westeros, or perhaps travel to Rigel, Tatooine, Degobah, or Arrakis, or maybe a distant future when vicious robots adopting human form vied with humans themselves for control of a post-apocalyptic Earth.  Add to this our vastly improved resources for enjoying a wide variety of music in the privacy our own homes, on equipment of unheard of power and quality.  The possibilities for a modern hasheesh user are of several orders of magnitude vaster than what Ludlow could experience.  We might even weep in sorrow for the poor soul, were it not that he had no idea what he was missing.

There may be those of you wondering how Ludlow was able to experience all this.  If you are familiar with the stories of Mr. Marin and Mr. Chong, or the more recent adventures of the Indian and the Korean questing for meat products in New Jersey in mid-morning hours, or even have personal familiarity with cannabis and its effects, the question is even more acute.  Indeed, his accounts resemble more those of Professor Leary and Dr. Hofmann than these other individuals.  The answer lies in hasheesh itself.

The contemporary maconheiro consumes the cannabis by smoking.  He purchases a quantity for personal consumption most likely in the amount of a quarter of an ounce.  This lasts him for several weekends, perhaps three months, depending on how frequently he consumes and how generous he shares with like-minded companions.  In no event, however, could he possibly consume that quarter ounce quantity at one time (well, he could mix that quantity with a cup of butter and use that to cook “consumables”, but that is another story).

However, the special ingredient which makes cannabis so popular is contained in resins within.  These resins can be extracted and concentrated into a more potent form called hasheesh.   Ludlow speaks of “grains”, and consuming hasheesh orally.  The annotator made careful calculations and estimated that Ludlow’s largest doses at a single session equate to an ounce and a half of smokable cannabis herb.  In other words, a year and a half of smoking – at once.  No wonder his escapades were so dramatic and intense. 

As of now, it appears that hasheesh will be regulated in the same form as cannabis.  Of course, the days of simply stepping into the local apothecary and purchasing hasheesh or opium from the proprietor, without so much as a physician’s recommendation, are long gone.  However, events in Colorado and Washington suggest that a return to Ludlow’s apothecary environment, at least as regards cannabis, may not be so far off, as to require consumption of said products to even imagine the reality.  What lies for us in the future?