➸ [Read] ➳ Confessions of an English Opium-Eater By Thomas de Quincey ➽ – Horse-zine.co.uk

Confessions of an English Opium-Eater pdf Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, ebook Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, epub Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, doc Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, e-pub Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, Confessions of an English Opium-Eater c5bca45055b In This Remarkable Autobiography, Thomas De Quincey Hauntingly Describes The Surreal Visions Hallucinatory Nocturnal Wanderings He Took Thru London The Nightmares, Despair Paranoia To Which He Became Prey Under The Influence Of The Then Legal Painkiller Laudanum Forging A Link Between Artistic Self Expression Addiction, Confessions Seamlessly Weaves The Effects Of Drugs The Nature Of Dreams, Memory Imagination First Published In , It Paved The Way For Later Generations Of Literary Drug Users, From Baudelaire To Burroughs, Anticipated Psychoanalysis With Its Insights Into The Unconscious

10 thoughts on “Confessions of an English Opium-Eater

  1. says:

    The Opium Eaters, a comedy, based on the sleeping habits of Thomas de Quincey and Marcel Proust.Characters Marcel ProustThomas de QuinceyThe curtain goes up on a bedroom scene Two of the walls are cork lined, the third is a bare stone wall roughly coated with Roman cement In the angle of the two cork lined walls is a narrow wrought iron bedstead covered with an eiderdown quilt and beside it, a night table on which lie books, papers, and a little brass bell Against the stone wall there is a brass bedstead piled high with blankets, and beside it a night table on which lie books, papers, and a little gold bottle There is someone lying on each of the beds.Marcel Proust Longtemps, je me suis couch de bonne heure Propping himself on his elbow, he becomes aware of the audience and immediately reaches for the bell which he rings impatiently while calling out for his servant to come and close the curtains Fran oise, Fran oise, il faut fermer les rideaux il y a une foule immense devant la fen tre Thomas de Quincey, sitting up in his bed angrily My dear sir, desist immediately from your tintinnabulous propensities These velvet drapes will be closed at the end of the scene and not before, so you are wasting your breath, which I see you have little enough of, in calling for it to be done ahead of time And indeed your feeble efforts are doubly futile since the character you call for is not even in the play, and the people you speak of are only the audience, such a harmless group that is in no way to be feared, unlike the horrible hoards who people my own dreams and can I caution you, dear sir, for I perceive you to be something of a valetudinarian, against becoming a confirmed heautontimourousmenosMarcel Proust, rubbing his eyes Bougre Qui est ce qui me lance des propos incompr hensibles plein de mots int rminables et de phrases imp n trables T de Q, swinging his legs over the side of the bed Ah, you wonder who addresses you in such elaborately constructed language Allow me to introduce myself He walks to the centre of the stage I am Thomas de Quincey and you and I are characters in a play, and please note, my dear sir, that this play is in English, and therefore oblige us by refraining from any outbursts la fran aise henceforth I might remind you also that this play is being staged in the year of our Lord, 2013 to mark the bicentenary of the events contained in one of the chapters of the most famous of my works, the essay with the much disputed title among my peers of Confessions , yes, my dear sir, not a sensational Diary of an Addict , but the humble Confessions of an English Opium Eater, and a work further in which my contemporaries believed I was being too confidential and too communicative..MP, rising from his bed to look at a calendar hanging on the wall But if this is indeed the year 2013, then this play is surely meant to mark the centenary of the publication of my most famous work, my Recherche , that single work on which I devoted the labour of my whole life, and had dedicated my intellect, blossoms and fruits, to the slow and elaborate toil of constructing itT de Q, holding up a document I think that you are on the wrong page of the script, my dear sir, those are in fact my lines, taken directly from page 175 of the Confessions , referring to my own life s work, begun upon too great a scale for the resources of the architect alas, and which because of the very subject of this play, was likely to stand as a memorial of hopes defeated, of baffled efforts, of materials uselessly accumulated of foundations laid that were never to support a super structure, of the grief and the ruin of the architect.MP, moving towards the front of the stage and speaking directly to the audience Strange how these words of his recall my own fears and doubts concerning the completion and future acclaim of the Recherche , although I always subscribed to the belief that true works of art are slow to receive their full recognition, and must wait for a period when the author himself will have crumpled to dust This centenary celebration, and your devoted presence proves me right He nibbles on the corner of his moustache and mumbles to himself Where are the Bergottes and the Blochs All gone and forgotten while I alone have survived to become the keystone of modern literatureT de Q, lying down again upon his bed But alas, opium had a palsying effect on my intellectual facultiesMP, walking across to T s bedside table, picking up the gold bottle and sniffing its contents I too have often reflected on the kinds of sleep induced by the multiple extracts of ether, of valerian, of opiumT de Q, closing his eyes I must now pass to what is the main subject of these confessions, to the history of what took place in my dreams At night, when I lay in my bed, vast processions passed along in mournful pomp friezes of never ending stories, that to my feelings were as sad and as solemn as if they were stories drawn from times before Oedipus or Priam, before Tyre, before Memphis. MP, massaging his temples I feel something quiver in me, shift, try to rise, the glimmer of a visual memory, the elusive eddying of stirred up coloursa magic lantern full of impalpable iridescences, multicoloured apparitions where legends are depicted as in a wavering, momentary stained glass windowT de Q, in a dreamy voice A theatre seemed suddenly opened and lighted up within my brain, which presented nightly spectacles of than earthly splendour As the creative state of the eye increased, a sympathy seemed to arise between the waking and the dreaming states of the brain in one point, that whatsoever I happened to call up and to trace by a voluntary act upon the darkness was very apt to transfer itself to my dreamsMP, going back to sit on the side of his bed Yes, what one has meant to do during the day, one accomplishes only in one s dreams, that is to say after it has been distorted by sleep into following another line than one would have chosen when awake The same story branches off and has a different ending.T de Q All this and other changes in my dreams were accompanied by deep seated anxiety and gloomy melancholy, such as wholly incommunicable by wordsMP, lying down But my sadness was only increased by those multi coloured apparitions of the lantern..T de Q The sense of space, and in the end the sense of time, were both powerfully affected Buildings, landscapes, c., were exhibited in proportions so vastly as the bodily eye is not fitted to receive.MP, closing his eyes In Combray, I moved through the churcha space with, so to speak, four dimensions the fourth being Time extending over the centuriesT de Q The minutist incidents of childhood, or forgotten scenes of later years, were often revivedMP I have many pictures preserved by my memory of what Combray was during my childhood..T de Q The following dreama Sunday morning in MayEaster Sunday..right before me lay the scene which could really be commanded from that situation, but exalted, as was usual, and solemnised by the power of dreamsthe hedges were rich with white rosesMP It was at Easterin the month of May that I rememberin the church..little branches of buds of a dazzling whiteness...T de Q I find it impossible to banish the thought of death when I am walking alone in the endless days of summerMP That summer day seemed as dead, as immemorially ancient asa mummy T de Q Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..MP ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzAudience ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzReaders Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

  2. says:

    If there is reincarnation I want them to put a hold on mine until humanity has invented drugs that don t have a down side to them No tiresome side effects, like early death And they ll be cheap And you ll still be able to fire up your jet pack and get to the office and do your job and impress your team leader And no skin blemishes O drugs of the future, I salute you and your friendliness and complete lack of ill effects Because you see opium, for one, as Thomas de Quincey demonstrates in this famous but I think not much read book, has seriously deleterious effects upon the user s syntax It goes all to hell Thomas can start sentences but finds it really..likehard to finish them, so he adds in piles of clausy digressiony blah blah blah uninteresting detail in exactly the same way that drugged up people think that talking about their tattoos or their dealer for hours could possibly be interesting even for a halfnanosecond to their undrugged locutors. When people in the future take their drugs of no down side, they will converse graciously about matters of interest to all And plus, they will never sit down heavily on their girlfriend s little cute dog and squash it flat, like Christopher Moltisanti did in The Sopranos He didn t even realise he d done it until she came in and asked him where her little darling was In the future, that will never happen O Cosette

  3. says:

    3.5 stars One can see why Confessions was such a favorite among the drug addled youngsters of the 60s and 70s The title is catchy but surprise its not primarily a book about drug experiences Only the last 20 or so pages plumb that It s about suffering, homelessness, and penury There were passages that reminded me of 1993 s Travels with Lizbeth Three Years on the Road and on the Streets by Lars Eighner, a wonderfully written book about homelessness The class system of Britain, thank God it s dying, systemically prevented true eleemosynary activity Anyone deemed to be a victim of their own excess was not considered worthy of care As de Quincey states The stream of London charity flows in a channel which, though deep and mighty, is yet noiseless and underground not obvious or readily accessible to poor houseless wanderers and it cannot be denied that the outside air and framework of London society is harsh, cruel, and repulsive It took me ten pages to acclimate to the slightly archaic diction, but once I did the reading was enjoyable There s a guardedness about certain episodes in the author s life which evoked wonder and curiosity in this reader He focuses on opium addiction almost to the utter exclusion of everything else The focus is laser like Who the man himself might actually be, remains a mystery Recommended.

  4. says:

    If I published under my own name a book that was this bad, I d fall through the floor for shame With fewer than 20 pages drearily sketching the use of opium, what s left is a mind numbing autobiography of atrocious prose in service to pathological vanity How does this writer get away with it The structure is a disaster A footnote on one page tells about the family name Quincey that footnote refers readers to an appendix that appendix has yet footnotes, all devoted to the name Other footnotes take up over a page, and I couldn t turn even three pages without running into a footnote of some length Similar discontinuity sends readers down many blind alleys The chapter titles have nothing to do with the content, and the text in places is indexed with numbers which even break down into Roman numerals all to make inconsequential points.De Quincey mounts a defense in the first pages against the poet Coleridge A fellow opium addict, Coleridge had apparently attacked De Quincey s use of opium as being improper This lively dustup gives the book some historical cachet, but it also reminds me of two alcoholics arguing over who s drunk After that, the opaque perspective yields no clue what the author was actually like.Thickly overwritten prose flummoxes readers The author brandishes verbose, circuitous sentences studded with Latin and Greek, the latter in its own alphabet So esoteric is his writing that at times I simply had no idea what the author was getting at at other times I had no idea what he just said.More grating still is the silly affectation The author in places addresses people and things in the second person using thee and thou, as if his puerile personal cares call for poetic license In other places, his prodigious recollections pass off ersatz sentiment as something authentic The tedious, self absorbed content ultimately goes on to chronicle every aching hangnail this crazy fool ever had.De Quincey s main goal seems to be to twist language into a pretzel It s a matter of indifference to him whether he actually communicates anything to his readers I consider as a result that readers should treat this book with a similar indifference.

  5. says:

    Tedious, he uses a word viz about 10,000 times Obscure and rambling, but it was written a long, long time ago.

  6. says:

    This is as much a treat for the prose style as it is for the hallucinatory detail.The edition I received from the library dating from the 1890s is in two parts The first is the Confessions as shown in the title, and is split into three further parts a biographical sketch of the author s life, and The Pleasures and Pains of Opium, respectively His descriptions are long winded and evocative Time and space slow down, and he felt lifted up to a supreme pleasure, where all pain was gone.Then once the drug wears off, you spend all night wishing you want to die and your body rebels against you But I ll let de Quincey describe that better The second part of the book is called Suspiria de Profundis, or Sighs from the Depths This is a fragmentary, yet brilliant series of descriptions on the hallucinations he saw and heard while under the influence Roman goddesses, sunken cities, German mountaintops, human memory, and so forth A dark fragmented phantasm.Don t do drugs kids Opium was perfectly legal when the author took it, and all of its cousins like heroin are still too dangerous Unless you re Vollmann, who can shrug off cocaine like the rest of us drink coffee so I hear But you re not Seriously, don t do it I beg you It ll wreck us lesser mortals and shatter our minds and mortal bodies Don t even do it for the chance that you ll produce some real neat art for it It s not worth it The good creativity and emotion will fade away into a broken memory soon enough and all that s left of you is dying.

  7. says:

    First published in 1821, it paved the way for later generations of literary drug users, from Baudelaire to Burroughs Whee While this is maybe not indispensable, it s also not than 100 pages, so it gets five stars based on its ratio of awesomeness vs time commitment And it is pretty awesome De Quincey is funny and weird and literate, and the roots of all kinds of drug stories from those quoted above to Trainspotting and, oh, A Million Little Pieces are clearly visible.In one of those proud yet crushing moments where you realize that thought you were so psyched about of has, as Public Enemy said, been thought before I ve always thought that people get honest when they drink, so if that nice new friend of yours gets weirdly mean and creepy when he s drunk, you might want to think twice about inviting him to your wedding And here s de Quincey Most men are disguised by sobriety and it is when they are drinking that men display themselves in their true complexion of character That s from page 46, in the middle of an absolutely glorious comparison of the effects of wine and opium One of my favorite passages because, unlike opium, I m quite familiar with the effects of wine The pleasure of wine is always mounting, and tending to a crisis, after which it declines Really, there s no sense quoting of it the whole two pages is great.If you re interested in drugs, or wine, or the idea of a counter culture, or pretty writing, or the history of opium and its significant effect on the world, this is worth an afternoon.

  8. says:

    Thomas de Quincey started taking opium in the form of laudanum conveniently available over the counter from all good chemists in early 19th century Britain as pain relief At no time was he taking his opium directly either by smoking or even eating, the title is indicative of his interest in finding the right phrase or most striking turn of words rather than the most accurate description The downside of this search of his for the best turn of phrase is that in the second edition of his book he freely expanded sections and in doing so crossed the line from the florid to the overwritten.He attempts to set out the positives and the negatives of his experiences with laudanum My lasting impression was that it was overall horrific, the positive side didn t really come over terribly well The fact of his addiction has to speak for itself De Quincey wrote that his opium dreams where full of vivid memories of what he had read, his classical education meant that gigantic and threatening Roman armies loomed up and marched unrelentingly through his imagination He imagines the agricultural labourer, laudanum was not just widely available at the time but also cheap, being overwhelmed by dreams of cows Worse to imagine the dreams of the industrial labourer with their daily grind magnified in their imaginations.The oddity of the book for me is that the drug visions sit alongside the ideal of Victorian domesticity As expressed by de Quincey as the wife serving tea to the gathered family from a silver teapot This is a comfortable, manageable, middle class addiction It s a long way from the world of The Corner.

  9. says:

    The boy speaks Greek I am not overly impressed underwhelmed may indeed be the word by this romantic tale of the orphaned but highly intelligent boy who fell on hard times.It is a typical piece of Confessional Writing though it also bares a certain lack of self awareness paired with some megalomania.And yes, opium eating is a nasty habit and you can invent all kind of excuses for it if you like but still it is an addiction.TdQ is often mentioned as a forefather and source of inspiration for William S Burroughs Burroughs, drugged out of this world did however manage to write quite a few memorable novels.Once again, literary duty done.

  10. says:

    I finally finished this I have started reading it several times, and just couldn t get into it But today I finished it Hooray As you can tell, I did not like it.One example of a very long rambling sentence I do not often weep for not only do my thoughts on subjects connected with the chief interests of man daily, nay hourly, descend a thousand fathoms too deep for tears not only does the sternness of my habits of thought present an antagonism to the feelings which prompt tears wanting of necessity to those who, being protected usually by their levity from any tendency to meditative sorrow, would by that same levity be made incapable of resisting it on any casual access of such feelings but also, I believe that all minds which have contemplated such objects as deeply as I have done, must, for their own protection from utter despondency, have early encouraged and cherished some tranquillising belief as to the future balances and the hieroglyphic meanings of human sufferings I do realise it was published in 1821, and written in that period s style No excuse Mary Shelley published Frankenstein in 1823, and it is very readable.I also realise that the author wrote while using opium No excuse Charles Dickens used opium, and he was still able to write things that made sense.The only entertaining bit was where he tells about the dreams nightmares he had as a result of opium, and you have to get to the end of the book to read those.If you re a fan of Thomas de Quincey, I suppose you d enjoy this book.If you love reading run on sentences, you d probably like this book.If you re looking for a first hand report of the pain pleasure of opium addiction written in a readable style, this is probably not the book you re looking for.1 Star Yuck I wish I hadn t wasted my time reading it.

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