The Poison Review

Neuroskeptic has a nice post about Absinthe Fact and Fiction.

Speaking of absinthe and fiction, here’s a beautiful passage from Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls describing the interior monologue as Robert Jordan — fighting in the Spanish Civil War — recalls Paris as he contemplates a shot of  ”la fée verte“:

It was a milky yellow now with the water and he hoped the gypsy would not take more than a swallow. One cap of it took the place of the evening papers, of all the old evenings in cafes, of all chestnut trees that would be in bloom now in this month, of the great slow horses of the outer boulevards, of book shops, of kiosks, and of galleries, of the Parc Montsouris, of the Stade Buffalo, and of the Butte Chaumont, of the Guaranty Trust Company and the Ille de la Cite, of Foyot’s old hotel, and of being able to read and relax in the evening; of all the things he had enjoyed and forgotten and that came back to him when he tasted that opaque, bitter, tongue-numbing, brain-warming, stomach-warming, idea changing liquid alchemy.