Social drinking can be a lot of fun. It can also be a major source of stress and anxiety, and a gateway to problem drinking. Not good.
As I mentioned in my first post, the end of book one in The Art of Drinking discusses responsible drinking at social functions, while the entirety of book two is devoted to excess drinking. (I’ll discuss that in tomorrow’s post.)
That structure suggests Obsopoeus was especially alert to the gateway aspect of social drinking, and that may explain why he devotes so much attention to the topic. He knew that work parties, holidays and weddings could be make-it-or-break-it events.
Amazingly, Obsopoeus' advice for those occasions seems as wise and useful today as it was 500 years ago. Let me share some examples.
He starts by stressing the importance of etiquette, beginning the moment you walk through the door. First and foremost, he says, keep it light – even if you're upset about something:
If some hidden worry does happen to be gnawing at you, then lay your cross down the moment you step through the door or dispel it ASAP with a drink of wine—there’s no surer remedy for worries than alcohol.
You'd be hard pressed to find a textbook offering advice like that today, but Obsopoeus is sure it's sensible. In his experience, a single glass of wine – if necessary – won't inevitably send you down an irreversible path.
He then offers a long series of dos and don’ts, elaborating on each point. For example,
- Do Follow the Conversation. No other interest, no pet hobby or topic that you bring up on your own, should force people to follow your inappropriate digression if they aren’t into it. No, you follow them. Surrender your ego to your group of friends. That’s how you avoid antagonizing people and the fallout that comes with it.
- Do Say Nothing Rather than Something Stupid. Nothing exposes the inferiority of a subpar intellect faster than a tongue droning on unthinkingly. Many win a reputation for wisdom through their silence and then lose it through their stupidity.
Ever met someone like that at a party?
Some of this may come instinctively to you. Unfortunately, it doesn't come instinctively to everyone. If you find yourself scratching your head at any of these next points, I encourage you to read his elaboration of each one:
- Don’t Try to Win Arguments
- Don’t Try to Impress People with Your Intelligence
- Do Be Careful with Your Jokes
- Don’t Use Foul Language
- Don’t Make Jokes at Other People’s Expense
- Do Keep Your Bodily Functions under Control
One of the best pieces of advice he offers is how to give a proper toast – and how to politely deflect peer pressure to join in if you're not into drinking. Here’s what you should say, he says:
“My fine friend, don’t you know how the Homeric warlords drank wine? They’d drink as much as each one’s heart desired. Everyone should down drinks as they please! I don’t know of any of those heroes ever acting like you were and telling someone, ‘Match that drinking!’ I grant I’m no epic hero, but what’s stopping us from following the heroic code?”
The heroes of the Iliad and Odyssey are shown drinking wine on many occasions, but never in any kind of competitive way. So, if those tough-as-nails guys — guys like Achilles and Agamemnon and Ajax — if those guys didn’t feel compelled to pound drinks, then you shouldn’t either. Brilliant! (And all the better if your host doesn't know who Homer was, because the last thing he or she will do is ask.)
Obsopoeus also offers some actionable advice about how best to refuse a drink when you're not into it:
Still, to avoid offending someone by refusing their offer of wine, do have a single drink if they’re pressuring you.
This is not the advice contemporary programs would offer today, but Obsopoeus has a point:
And that’s why—to avoid hurt feelings—I’m frequently drinking: it’s not because I’m thirsty, but so I won’t be a sober killjoy.
That said, he immediately admonishes us to never pressure other people to drink:
Forcing someone against their will is as serious a crime as chasing them away from flowing water when they’re thirsty. The sweetest glass is a drink that’s downed by choice, whereas forcing hurts the drinker and the wine alike. Wine makes friends and breaks friends; being forced to drink wine isn’t universally liked.
Obsopoeus finally sums up his advice with a golden rule borrowed from Ovid's treatise on sex education:
- Moderation must forever be your guiding principle.
- Everything needs to be kept within finite limits; and
- Consent to memorize the same thing Ovid taught his young man in love:
“I’m going to give you a specific drinking limit: Your mind and feet should both be doing their job.”
Again and again Obsopoeus comes back to that point, that moderation is the key to lasting sobriety, and if you're having trouble talking or walking, then you're past your limit. Time to head home.
I’ll talk about what happens when you don't in tomorrow’s post. In the meantime, I’d like to end this post with a liminary poem I didn’t have space to include in How to Drink.
When you wrote a book back in the Renaissance, it was customary to hit your friends up to write short poems—called “liminary” poems—to celebrate the publication. They were blurbs, basically, and the best of them enlighten and enhance the book that follows.
In How to Drink, I reprinted a liminary poem in Latin by Joachim Camerarius, a famous scholar of the German Renaissance. I didn’t have room for a second one Camerarius wrote in ancient Greek, and I’m pleased to share it here.
The conceit is that wine can be a bucking bronco, and art — and specifically, Obsopoeus’ "Art" of Drinking — will give you the confidence you need to "ride" it. (The conceit goes back to ancient Greek comedy and gets picked up elsewhere in the Renaissance; see footnote nine here):
Get set, all you wine enthusiasts out there!
If your heart is willing but
your puny body lacks the strength,
then smile and say hello to wine’s intoxication!
Vincent has devised the therapies in this Art for you
so that you can drink wine without fear.
You little fellas don’t have to fear a big, tough guy anymore,
because look, with art, even a kid can ride a mighty horse.
Here’s the Greek for those who can read it. (The phrase I translate “wine enthusiasts” literally means “suffering from the gentleman’s disease,” and it’s a recherché allusion to Aristophanes’ comedy Wasps, line 80.)
Θαρσεῖθ’ ὅσσ’ ἀγαθῶν ἀνδρῶν νούσῳ κατέχεσθε,
οἰνώδη θ’ ἱλαραῖς φρεσσὶ φιλεῖτε μέθην,
εἰ μὲν θυμὸς ἔνι στήθει πρόφρων, δύναμις δέ
λείπετ’ ἐν ἀβληχρῷ σώματι δαμναμὲνη·
τοίης Νικήτης τέχνης τάδε φάρμακα πᾶσιν
θῆκεν ὑμῖν ἀδεῶς οἰνοποταζέμεναι.
μή τινα νῦν δείσητε μέγαν μικροὶ ἄνδρα θρασύν τε.
τέχνῃ παῖς ἵππον πόσσον ὁποῖος ἑλᾷ;
Eric Berne MD, "Alcoholic: A Life Game from Games People Play
Posted by: Rich | April 14, 2020 at 08:01 AM
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Very interesting, thank you! To judge from
this link, Berne thought much along the same lines as Dr. Thomas Szasz. I’ll look into his work.
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Posted by: Mike Fontaine | April 14, 2020 at 09:53 AM
Another fine piece from the tour d'ivresse. The differences between "drunk" and "alcoholic" -- and let's throw in "rummy," too -- are interesting, and so is the fact that we have so many words for the state of being drunk, plastered, tipsy, high, smashed, blotto. Wish you would identify the very well-chosen illustrations. Many thanks in any case for these stimulating meditations on a matter close to my heart. -- DL
Posted by: The Best American Poetry | April 14, 2020 at 01:23 PM
Thank you! As for the pictures, all you need to do is click on ‘em. Each is hyperlinked to a Wikipedia page that identifies and contextualizes them.
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Posted by: Mike Fontaine | April 14, 2020 at 02:40 PM
Pleased to read!!!
Posted by: Visit us | October 11, 2024 at 07:50 AM